Page 85 of The First Spark

“It’s not like you asked me on a date, Ash. You and your friends will party until the wee hours of the morning. Sorry I don’t find that appealing. Besides, you really think you’d have a good time if you were stuck entertaining me all evening instead of … hanging out with them?”

“Didn’t answer my question.” Not that it matters. She’s given me the blow-off. I should let it lie and walk away, knowing Ori and I are a terrible idea.

But I can’t do that. Not yet anyway.

Because I was in that closet with her, and I felt her heart racing as I held her close. Tasted the desire on her skin as my mouth claimed her.

You can’t fake that. And webothfelt it.

I can’t be wrong again. Not about this.

That thought careens my brain back to Lucille once more, and the way she played me for a fool. The way she walked away without bothering to ask if I could survive without her.

Most days, those memories remain safely under lock and key, but Ori’s sudden one-eighty has brought them all to the forefront—along with a bevy of emotions I swore I’d never endure again.

Ori’s voice cuts into my thoughts, only a tinge softer than before. “I’m not sure what question you think I’m avoiding.”

“If you’re not spending time with me, whatareyou doing tonight?”

“Nothing special.”

Oh, this conversation is swiftly moving from bad to worse.

“You’re skipping out on hanging out with me to do nothing special? That’s pretty messed up, no?”

Ori sighs into the phone. “That’s not how I meant it. I’m exhausted and I would be a terrible addition to a party. Trust me, you’ll have much more fun without me.”

This keeps getting better and better.

Now, she’s covering her tracks in a desperate attempt to soften the blow. But I learned ten years ago to leave any place—or person—where I’m not wanted, and it’s apparent Oriana Thorne just joined that list.

Proof positive that falling for someone, inanycapacity, is a horrible idea.

And now, my ego is the only thing I’m concerned with saving. “Trust me, Iwillhave fun. Don’t you worry about that. It will be a night to remember.”

Do I sound like a pompous asshole? Absolutely, but I have every right. The woman I was planning to blow everyone else off for just blew me off—to do nothing special.

I rate below nothing special on her scale and I’m going to make damn sure she never rates onanyscale of mine again.

Damn it, I hate this feeling. I swore I’d never come back here and now, here I stand, neck deep in it. Questioning what I said or did, or didn’t say or do, that turned Ori from my late-night dessert into a desert of feelings.

Screw this shit.

I’m moving on, starting now.

With a grunt, I toss Mina’s phone onto the counter and storm from the shop. Time for some liquid amber to soothe my frazzled nerves and pride, and I know just where Ori stashed that bottle of single malt.

Sue me, now Ireallyneed a drink. I’ll buy the woman a fresh bottle.

My boots echo against the basement stairs as I beeline for the whiskey. Then I take a swig and settle on the edge of the couch, my eyes perusing the dingy interior.

Hard to believe in a few months, this place will morph into my decades long dream—a little slice of the glitzy ’20s right here in Sparkwood.

I should be thrilled, right? This is what I’ve always wanted and here it is, within reach.

But everything is different now, ever since that fateful night with Ori.

A night she doesn’t care to remember and one I can’t seem to forget.

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