Page 4 of Stepping Into Tomorrow

Isabella turned away from the couples moving on the dance floor to the man next to her and gasped. Two dark eyes stared at her, fathomless and magnetic. Something akin to sympathy flashed in his gaze before it was gone, hiding behind the shadows of secrets kept in those eclipsed orbs. She recognized the pain though—this man was grieving. That was the weight he carried.

Her lungs strained with the need to breathe. Isabella sucked in a ragged breath, her heart racing.

“I made a deal with my friend that she would do something she’d been too scared to do, and so would I.”

His eyes flashed as he leaned closer. The whiskey scent on his breath wrapped around her like silk ties binding her in place.

“What is it you had to do?” He cocked his head to the side.

“I had to come talk to you.”

He grunted, but still, his attention burned her flesh.

“Why do I scare you?” he asked.

“You don’t. Not like that. Just talking to a man, putting myself out there for the first time.” Heat burned her skin. Good Lord. Does he think I mean I’m a virgin? The liquor loosened her tongue. “First time in a long time, I mean.”

“So why do it at all?” he pressed.

She sighed. “Because sometimes to move forward you have to do something scary and uncomfortable. And I need to do something different. Because what I’ve been doing has led me to a place I don’t want to be in anymore.”

He blinked as if she’d surprised him. Silence passed as the wedding guests laughed and spoke around them. It was as if they were in their own little bubble, separate from everyone else. She was held in the trance of his perceptive gaze.

Maybe it was the mixture of champagne and tequila. Or maybe it was the fact that after today, she’d most likely never see this man again. But for once, her inhibitions were lowered. What did she have to lose?

“I’m ready to get out of here.” She left the invitation hanging in the air, hoping he’d make a move.

His jaw tensed, his eyes clouding over as if fighting a war with himself—to accept her invitation or not.

She was already committed to this—what was one more step? One last try?

If she’d learned anything during the last twelve years, it was that her pride could take a hit and she’d survive. Still, her stomach tipped and her hands grew clammy with sweat as she readied herself to ask the question. Here goes nothing. “You want to join me?”

2

ISABELLA

Several emotions flitted through those midnight pools. Desire. Fear. Guilt. And finally, resolve. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.” His voice was raw, like he’d swallowed a bucket of saltwater—his rejection just as bitter.

“Oh. Okay.” She tried to not react to the sting. Here she was, offering a night of no-strings fun, and she’d been turned down. Wasn’t that what most guys wanted?

Just not with her apparently.

Stop. I am good enough. There is someone out there for me. And I’ll find him someday.

“Well, you have a good night.” She spun off the seat and moved towards the restrooms once more, hoping to hide the burn of her humiliation. She rushed inside, heading straight for the sink to run her hands under the cold water once more. She peeked at the mirror. Her tan cheeks were flushed from a mixture of tequila and embarrassment.

The door opened and a young woman rushed in, barely giving Isabella a second glance before she rushed to one of the stalls.

Isabella gave one last look at her reflection, brushing back her dark hair and the curls that Tessa had helped her do. She pulled out the red lipstick from her clutch and applied a fresh coat, finishing up as the young woman sidled up to the counter near her to wash her hands.

Isabella smoothed her hand down her stomach self-consciously, as if she could hide some of her cellulite that way.

“I love that dress,” the young woman next to her said.

Isabella smiled, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Thank you.” Familiarity prickled at the base of her skull. “Nova?”

Nova dried her hands on a paper towel. “Yes?”

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