Page 56 of The Wildest One
“Turn around before he sees you and it’s too late—” Her voice cut off when he glanced in my direction and zoomed right in on me. “Fuck. He’s spotted you.”
I tried to swallow the anxiety—a layer much thicker than I had been feeling minutes ago—but I couldn’t. It was there. Building. And getting worse by the second.
“What do I do?”
I couldn’t think, never mind try to make a decision.
“There’s nothing you can do. He’s headed toward you right now.”
THIRTEEN
Beck
Iwas lifting a glass of bourbon to my lips when I saw Jolie. She was near the balcony that overlooked the dance floor, her back facing me, but she had glanced over her shoulder, and we connected eyes.
Those beautiful light-blue eyes and that wild red hair.
She was as stunning as the first time I had seen her—even more so. But it was like seeing a fucking ghost.
One that continued to haunt me, even to this day.
Fuck.
Why was my dick instantly hard?
Fuck.
Why was my heart screaming, like I’d just finished over a hundred suicide drills, and I couldn’t catch my breath?
Fuck.
Why did my body react so quickly to her?
Fuck.
My hand had frozen midair, halfway to my mouth, but I felt it lower to my side, and my feet were moving toward her, only stopping when I reached her.
Whether this was the right moment to speak to her or whether I should wait a few minutes to get my thoughts straight—it didn’t matter. My body had made that decision for me.
“Jolie …” As the word left my lips, I smelled her.
Vanilla amber.
A unique twist on a traditional scent that I’d only ever smelled on her.
And an aroma that brought back the most vivid memories of the three hottest nights.
“Beck …” Her hands were empty, and one went into her hair, holding a chunk of locks, her fingers lost within them. “Hi.”
I leaned toward her, and at first, I was just going to give her a one-armed hug, a greeting that felt appropriate, given our past. But as I neared her face, I found not only my arm wrapped around her, but I was kissing her cheek too.
I hadn’t been prepared for the softness that hit my lips.
Or the intensity of her scent now that I was this close.
Or the way her eyes closed as my mouth stayed on her skin, breathing her in.
How had I gone so long without speaking to her?
