Page 262 of Time Stops With You

I hike my purse higher on my shoulder and, as I turn toward the parking lot, I see a tall, familiar form in the distance. A surge of wistful longing unfurls in my chest. My heart plucks like a vibrating guitar string, the echo of it reverberating through my entire body.

I’d know that towering build, broad shoulders and silver eyes anywhere.

It’s Cullen.

He whirls around as if caught and hurries in the opposite direction.

I strike out after him, but Fate conspires against me. People are pouring out of the nearby subway station, heading home after work. I push through the throng of bodies desperately. My heart tugs me forward and every inch of my skin buzzes.

“Cullen!” I yell.

A truck roars by, swallowing my voice.

I push forward, desperation lengthening my stride. If he turns the bend, I’ll lose him.

“Cullen!”

The man in the beanie stops.

I surge ahead just as a bunch of bicycles fill the lane next to the sidewalk. I bite down on my bottom lip in frustration as one almost knocks into me. The offending biker yells a harried apology.

I scowl at him and then twist around, looking in Cullen’s direction.

But Cullen’s gone.

My chest heaves. I run straight ahead, hoping that he’s just around the bend. The crowd thins out as they’re heading for the crosswalk instead of this abandoned alley.

Empty.

He’s not here.

I place my hand against the side of the brick building, leaning over slightly to catch my breath.

This makes no sense.

I scrub my forehead, more confused than ever. Why did he run away from me? Why didn’t he face me?

Fighting back the massive disappointment, I spin around and jolt in surprise.

A man stands before me.

My eyes slide up to the thin nasal tubes fitted in his nostrils and finally to the silver eyes I fell in love with.

“Cullen.” His name tumbles from my lips like shattered glass.

He steps closer, looking at me with such sweet longing that tears spring to my eyes.

“Hello, Nardi.”

CULLEN

Nardi’s anger is palpable, like a raging bonfire. The flames roar up as she stomps forward.

I hold steady, waiting for her to get to me. My eyes never leave her. She’s stunning. Beautiful. The white top and short, flirty skirt she’s wearing threatens to tear my heart out of my chest. I want to hold her so badly that my hands physically ache.

Yet this isn’t a sweet reunion.

The heat of her gaze threatens to singe straight through my flesh to my soul. If she glares any harder, lasers might come bursting out of her eyes.

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