Page 8 of The HalloQueen

“I just got back from France. I’ve been there for most of the year.”

“Really?” Shannon wasn’t buying it. I didn’t tell her everything, but I did tell her enough that me not talking about fucking a French model would be odd, even if I was her boss.

“Oui. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s been far too long since I’ve had my hands on this beautiful woman,” he gave them the briefest of nods before he dragged me to the dance floor, turned me swiftly, and placed my hand behind his neck before moving my other up as well. He then placed his hands firmly on my hips and pulled me into him.

“Do you have any idea how lovely you smell, Annabel?”

I laughed, confused, “I don’t think I told you that I’d dance with you.”

He gave me an inconsequential wave of his hand and a smirk, “But we’ve been dating for a while, and I thought you wanted me to get you out of there.”

“I did. God, I wasn’t expecting him to be here…”

“Yes, I didn’t get the feeling that you wanted to explain to your friend that you’d fucked her boyfriend.”

My eyes widened, “what?! How do you-”

He shrugged, “I have a unique ability that allows me to understand the connection between people and the ability to differentiate between complicated emotions. Not to mention the shock on your face, and the way he was undressing you with his eyes made it kind of obvious. I didn’t think you wanted Shannon to notice.”

“Shit,” I hissed, “Thank you for the out. But for the record, when I fucked him he definitely wasn’t her boyfriend,” I justified, peeking around him to find her leaning against Trae with her broken heel in her hand. “How did you know I was here?” I asked and looked into his eyes again, feeling inexplicably drawn to look at him instead of turning around and dancing back to front like most of the other people in the brewery’s club.

“I didn’t. Remember? I was dropping off fliers. Or I’ve just returned from France and we stumbled into each other and are now desperate to head into a weekend of devouring each other to reconnect. Whichever story lets me keep my hands on you like this.”

I shook my head, blinking longly, entirely captivated by his eyes and took a full breath, “What? Jesus. Of course, you had said you were dropping off shit. Sorry, I spaced for a minute.”

“I’ll try harder to keep your attention.” He dug his fingers into the rolls that sat just above my apron, barely long enough to sting, and then rubbed the spot softly to soothe it.

Pulling back so I could look into his dark eyes, I smiled, “You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“Would you prefer I was? It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

The song changed and the tempo slowed down, allowing us to shift closer together, “how long?”

“Pardon?”

I rolled my eyes, “how long has it been since you’ve fondled a strange woman on a dance floor?”

“Ah, that. Never.”

“Never?” I laughed, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Non, my last relationship…” He paused, seemingly to check his wording, “we started long enough ago that we weren’t going out to places like this. She enjoyed it, but I never joined in.”

“Hmmm…” I took a moment to weigh his words, “And how long ago did you break up?”

“She left last Christmas. I’ve mostly been in Paris since.”

“Oh, so that wasn’t a lie?”

“Non, mon coeur, the best lies are the ones laced with truth, yes?”

“Is your family still there? How long ago did you move to Boston?”

“Non, my family isn’t there but I still have business dealings in the area. I also thought I might be able to find her if I went to France.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Non, but France is a very big place.”

---