My face most assuredly hiked up in the same coloring as my chest earlier.
Completely crazy, I passed that off too, shy in front of this guy like I was a young girl in front of a boy. My mouth moved a little. “So, you were at the wedding, too. Bride or groom’s side?”
Evasion the easiest thing instead of paying attention to my heated cheeks, or other things that tingled and woke up just at a mere flash of that dashing grin or a wink of his brown eyes. This guy was as readily charming as he was handsome, dangerous. I didn’t trust myself with handsome. I didn’t trust myself with charming. Both made a girl stupid and turn a blind eye to things she probably shouldn’t.
At least, when it came to me.
“I was in the bridal party actually,” Ramses stated, which explained his suit. It’d been similar to the groom’s when I’d seen his. Soft laughter hit his chest as he laced his fingers across it. “I was the man of honor.” He opened his hands. “So, I guess I was there for the bride.”
Shock silenced me, surprise more than anything else. I suppose that was becoming more and more common, though. A woman choosing a man as her lead attendant. I grinned. “You two must be close. You and the bride?”
His fingers formed around his glass. “I suppose you could say that.”
She’d been lovely, the bride. Well, what I’d seen of her. I’d been sitting in the back of a room filled with at least five hundred people, the reception completely luxurious.
It’d even snowed.
Like inside, snow. It hadn’t been real, of course, more a lighting affect than actual flakes. Those had been there too. I recalled brushing them off in the bathroom. “How long have you two known each other?”
“Since high school.” I noticed it took him a moment, his index finger weaving along the condensation of his glass. Eventually, his eyes lifted in my direction. “She was, uh, the first girl I ever really loved if you can believe that.”
Choke, like a legitimate choke since I’d taken a drink. Had I heard him, correctly? I patted my chest. “You’re serious?”
Yeah, nothing funny about what he’d said there, his finger scratching the side of his neck. “As a heart attack.”
Wow.
Super intrigued now, I leaned forward. “Alright.”
“I mean, it was a long time ago, but yeah.” His chuckle a bit dry on the end there, he sat back, his hands tucked under his arms. “It’s there. A history there.”
Well, hell. My lips parted. “And that’s alright? I mean, the groom was okay with that?”
Obviously, since the pair exchanged nuptials and Ramses had said this was in the past, but still.
Legitimate humor touched his eyes now. He angled his head back and forth. “Prinze, her husband, and I have a history too. And it was rough back then when it was all going down. Not going to lie.”
“And now?”
“He tolerates me.” Light returned to his eyes, and I was glad for it. I found I didn’t quite like him too serious. If anything, I appreciated how laid-back he was, not so easy for most people, me. His head tilted. “He’s definitely softened to me over the years, though. We aren’t best bros or anything, but we’re far from the days of him wanting to kick my ass.”
“My God, had it gotten that bad?”
“We may or may not have thrown down in the hallway in high school.”
Jesus, I thought, but he grinned.
“But like I said, that’s in the past.” He pushed his glass away. “Obviously. They got married, and that makes me happy since she is. Prinze is good to her, there for her. He loves her, and how could I want anything other than that for her? She deserves that.”
How very mature of him. Even still, I could imagine that would be hard. “Are you happy?”
Maybe a too personal question, and definitely one I had no right to ask.
I lifted a hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” But I noticed he wouldn’t allow me to go away, pinning me to the creaky booth where I sat with his gaze. That easy grin returned to his lips, his fingers pushing away those brown curls. “But you can’t ask me that without giving me some of your dirty laundry.”
Well, would you look at him? Thinking, he could go there with me. I tapped my glass with my nail. “You’re being cocky again.”
“Am I?” And when his fingers eased against mine, my breath stalled, my tummy tight. A flourish of heat ghosted over my knuckles when he touched them, his boyish expression teasing once again. “How about this?”
How about this, his thumb brushing the center of my palm. It was such a subtle touch but drenched my entire core in hot lava. I felt like I flooded my panties.
What the hell?
Absolute panic on my end, and a man of his age definitely shouldn’t have this much game. “How old are you?”
It was like I needed to know, that it mattered for some reason. Like this was anything other than just a shared pizza between two strangers.
“How old are you, Bri?” His cockiness showed once again. “Only fair if you tell me too.”
Only fair, but since I wasn’t going to admit that, I stayed silent.
He got me, goddamn him, his chuckle light when he sat back. I noticed he didn’t let go of my hand, his lengthy digits still playing across my knuckles. “I’m in my twenties, if that matters.”
“Well, I’m in my thirties.” I shrugged. “If that matters.”
“It doesn’t.” No lie in his eyes, and when he leaned forward, that entire hard chest of his hit the table. At least, it appeared to be hard.
God, did I want to touch it.
I wanted him to touch me. What the hell? “And I’m divorced.”
“Doesn’t matter.” His smile slow on his lips. “You’re not married now?”
“No.”
His nod touched the air, his hair a perfect wave of ebony dark curls. “Can I ask you something else?”
In that moment, I felt like he could ask me anything short of spreading out on the table for him, completely not me. Again. What. The. Hell? “Depends on what it is.”
He played with my fingers as he looped them together, forcing my palm to face the light. He drew soft circles over my flesh, like he was trying to read my palm but simply teasing me instead. “Would you tell me why you were going to jump tonight?”
I froze, and where I might have pulled away, I only breathed harder. “I never said I was going to jump.”
He threaded our fingers, completely taking my hand. He tugged me closer, and I tasted his air, tasted him, a hot combination of male and confidence. Both of which he exuded in spades. He swallowed. “I never said I wasn’t happy.”
I hadn’t assumed he wasn’t. But maybe, he wasn’t.
And maybe I was going to jump.
Maybe I wasn’t happy either, two not happy people together. Maybe I’d been at the wedding tonight when I didn’t want to be, and maybe he was forced to stand idle while another man married his first love. Maybe we were both two freaking losers and who were being losers together.
“Want to get out of here?” I asked, my breath heavy. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I didn’t do this, anything like this.