Chapter Eight
Inwardly wincing at my loud, brash question, my body tenses.
Stupid.
I am a total fuck-up.
Never should’ve left my apartment.
Izzy Ross is here. In Crescent Lake. In the place I ran to so I could escape.
She’s even more beautiful than I dared to remember, with those soft gray eyes, that straight and flowing onyx hair, and her lemon blossom scent.
I was so preoccupied, I didn’t catch her scent. I don’t know how that’s possible when it’s so insanely potent right now.
So very…
The room begins to spin, my heart races in my chest, those familiar invisible hands close around my neck, and I can’t breathe.
Everything in me screams I’m going to pass out, despite my brain reminding me it won’t happen. There’s nothing physically wrong with me. It’s all in my head. All in...
Panic.
Stumbling three steps forward, I grab the back of the nearest chair and hold the cold, solid wood in my hands. I breathe in through my nose, smell the coffee brewing, the scent of lemon blossoms.
Then, my gaze falls on Izzy, the woman I once loved. Still do.
Always will.
But the concern in those stormy eyes strangles my heart.
This… is what I never wanted to see. What I never wanted her to see.
She rises from her seat and hesitantly approaches, wordlessly takes my arm, and steers me back to my table and laptop, where I drop into the chair. Then Izzy walks to the cooler, grabs a bottle of water, brings it to me, and twists off the cap. “Drink,” she commands, gaze stern.
She waits for me to sip the freezing cold liquid before turning to the counter in time for the barista to return with my order. She converses briefly with her, gestures to me, then taps her credit card to pay.
Her next moves are quick, placing my Americano on the table before returning to where she’d been sitting, grabbing her mug, and coming back to my table to sit across from me.
Izzy is quiet a moment, sips her coffee, then leans back in her chair. “I got fired.”
A jolt shoots through my body. “What?”
She frowns, gaze casting downward. “Yep. Happy Fucking Holidays, am I right?”
“They can’t fire you.” Rage boils in my blood. Izzy is an amazing talent, the best character designer I’ve ever seen in 3D Engineering, and she’s one of the only women who worked at that developer. They can’t just—
“Well, they did.” Her tone is flat. “So, I decided to take a vacation.”
I blink at her. This conversation redirected my spiraling thoughts. I can’t tell if she did it on purpose, but knowing Iz, she did.
I take another sip of my water. “What about your annual family gathering?”
Her laugh is humorless. “I didn’t want to face their scrutiny. It’s easier to lie over the phone than to their faces.”
I wince again. Isn’t that the truth?
She knocks back the rest of her coffee and sets the mug down, giving me a level look as I watch the wheels turn in her head. “Feeling better?”
Blinking a few times, I nod at her. “Yeah. I think I am.”
Her head bobs before she rises, brings her mug to the drop-off. When she comes back, she gestures to the table with her hand. “I’ll let you get to what you came here for.”
Her voice is devoid of warmth, although I wouldn’t call it cold, not exactly. At least, not as cold as the air that swishes into the cafe when she passes through the door and leaves me alone.