Page 2 of The Déjà Glitch

Heat flushed her body anew. From the distance, a good fifteen feet, she could not make out any of the features Lila had listed, except for the fact that he was very good-looking.

Had she said he was good-looking?

Gemma couldn’t remember, but she did remember the last item on the list.

“What’s the best quality a girl could ask for?” Her words came out sounding like she was in a trance. She suddenly felt as if gravity had shifted, and something was pulling her toward the stranger at the end of the bar.

Lila circled around to stand behind her so that they both faced the man. She propped her chin on Gemma’s shoulder and spoke right beside her ear. “That even with everyone in here, he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room.”

Gemma heard the smile in her friend’s voice and felt a rush of affection that Lila,look at meLila, would still play wingwoman at her own birthday party.

Not that Gemma wanted a wingwoman. She did not currently have space in her life for a brooding stranger making eyes at her from the shadows. Not even one with the kind of tousled hair that did the wind favors by letting it blow it around and eyes that seemed to shine in the dark.

Nope. No room for that.

But Lila appeared to be making room whether Gemma wanted it or not.

She poked Gemma in the ribs and nudged her forward. “Go.”

Gemma stumbled a hesitant step, feeling that gravitational pull tug her forward at the same time her feet stubbornly refused to leave the ground. The opposing forces did not mesh well.

“Consider it your birthday present to me,” Lila said.

“I already gave you a present.”

“Well, then go get yourself one.Go.”

Lila’s interest in her love life had increased exponentially during the year since Gemma’s last breakup. While Gemma found solace in solitude, an ease about caring for herself and her geriatric mutt Rex and no one else, Lila encouraged her to join the dating race at every turn.

You’re a catch, Gem. I don’t know what you’re waiting for.

In truth, Gemma didn’t know either, if she was waiting for anything at all. But with pink bubbles bursting in her brain and the sudden, inexplicable shift in the earth’s tilt, she wondered if all she had been waiting for was the guy in the corner staring at her like she was the only girl in the room.

“Atta girl,” Lila quietly cheered when Gemma took a purposeful step forward.

Warm bodies pushed against her as she fought her way like a fish swimming upstream to the other end of the bar. The room was hot and thick with indecent desires. A fug of perfumes and heavy air squeezed in from all sides and reminded her why she preferred books and blankets to a night out.

But then she arrived on the other end of it all, and the intriguing stranger gently smiled at her. She instantly forgot her distaste for the whole scene. She made note that Lila had been right about everything: clean, no ring, same age.Despite the shine in his blue eyes, he did look a little tired, but Gemma was tired too. Perhaps he was worn out for the same occupation-related reasons.

The expectant look on his handsome face told her that she had exceeded the amount of time that was reasonable for walking up to someone and not saying anything.

“Hi,” she said, and sounded even to herself like a rusty old tool that hadn’t been out of the box in ages. “My friend sent me over. It’s her birthday.” She cringed as his eyebrows rose. It sounded like she had been sent over on Lila’s behalf.

The fact that he didn’t immediately look over her shoulder for the curvy brunette in question won him a point. Everyone in the bar knew it was Lila’s birthday thanks to the tiara and intermittent cheering with every round of drinks.

“Happy birthday to your friend.”

“Thank you. I mean, thank you for her.” She cringed again. In her defense, she didn’t spend too much time talking to other people, not at her job in the production booth at a radio show, and especially not to attractive ones with secrets in their eyes. Other than the nights Lila succeeded in dragging her along, she didn’t go out much.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about him. A flicker of familiarity like a scent tied to a memory that couldn’t quite be placed.

“Not really your scene?” he asked without a hint of judgment.

She quietly laughed, feeling exposed for being so obvious. “No, not at all.”

“Mine either.”

“Then what are you doing here?” The words slipped out more in surprise than anything. He was obviously alone,not even avoiding a party like she was. She hoped she didn’t sound harsh.

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