12. Gemma
Across the room, dressed in a crisp black tuxedo, stands my one-night-stand from four months ago. Elijah.
The memory of him makes me clench my thighs together, but it’s the woman clinging to his arm that makes my blood run cold. Esther.
She clings to his arm, her sharp nails digging into his sleeve. A smug look spreads across her collagen-filled lips. She tosses her over-bleached hair and presses against him like he’s her property. My fists clench at the satisfied glint in her eyes.
Elijah’s turned slightly away, his arm looped with Esther’s. His short black hair frames his face perfectly, while his gray eyes hold the same power over me as that night. The tailored Italian suit accentuates his athletic physique and the crisp lines give him an air of sophisticated authority. He adjusts his cufflinks, looking around the room.
“Miltons,” Mary says.
“Who?” I turn to her.
“Elijah and Connor Milton. Very rich and successful—the total package. And, of course, Ms. Whitman has already sunk her claws into the older one. What a surprise…”
Would I be the one if I wouldn’t have been late to the date?
“Seems so.” I pretend not to care about the man who’s haunted my dreams for months.
Who am I kidding? He still does.
“Wait, the left one is Connor Milton? The one you told us about?” Lil asks.
“The one and only,” Mary says.
“Are you okay?” Lil’s head turns to me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Mary and Lil exchange a doubtful glance, clearly unconvinced by my bravado.
I take a long sip of my drink and try to focus on anything other than the magnetic pull of Elijah’s presence. Failing, I can’t tear my eyes away from him. My traitorous body betrays me, every nerve ending screaming for him.
Seeing them together, looking like the perfect couple makes me sick to my stomach. Esther’s hand still grips Elijah’s arm like she owns him. I suck in a breath, willing the ache in my chest to fade, but it only digs deeper.
It’s fine.
It should be fine.
We had fun for a night.
Nothing more.
“No men tonight, and instead, to an unforgettable evening with my best girls.” Mary raises her champagne flute in a mock toast. Her eyes flick between Elijah and me.
“Cheers.” We clink our glasses.
Mary’s expression falters for a second. “Don’t look.”
But of course we do. With a woman on his side, Bash strides toward Elijah, exchanging a handshake.
“Seems like Sebastian is a good friend of his,” Lil says.
“They’ve been doing business together and got pretty close. Best friends,” Mary says.
“How do you know this all?” Amusement dances across Lil’s face.
Mary shrugs. “Well, that’s one advantage of having the queen of gossip as a mother.”
I glance between my friends, each word tightening the knot inside me. My voice is barely more than a whisper when I say, “He’s my one-night-stand from the masquerade.”
Mary chokes on her drink, eyes widening in surprise.
“I guess your mother missed a tiny detail,” Lil says.
“Apparently.” My eyes dart back to my brother and Elijah. “Shit.”
Bash is pointing in our direction and beckons me over with a wave of his hand.
My pulse quickens as Elijah’s eyes find mine, a knowing glint shining in them. I feel naked under his gaze like he can see right through me.
From across the crowded room, Elijah lifts his hand in a casual wave.
Memories flood back of the night we spent together. His hands on my body, his lips whispering filthy promises against my skin, the raw desire in his gaze as he… and the crushing disappointment when I found him dining with Esther instead of waiting for me. It’s too much.
The familiar thrill courses through me mingled with unease. In return, I offer a hesitant nod, clasping my clammy hands behind my back. His eyes remain locked with mine a moment too long before he turns away, leaving me breathless.
“Want to go grab some burgers?” Lil says.
“No, we stay.” I’m grateful for her suggestion, but I won’t leave because of them.
My gaze drifts back to my drink, the condensation on the glass cool against my fingertips. Two can play this game.
Similar to what he did with the glass of water, I catch one of the condensation drops with my finger and bring it to my lips, the coolness tingling against my skin as I lock eyes with Elijah from across the room, gauging his reaction.
His gray eyes darken as he watches me sticking out my tongue to lick up the drop. The hungry look that crosses his face makes my cheeks flush, but I don’t break eye contact.
I can almost feel the heat of his body against mine, his hands and lips exploring every inch of my skin. The image makes me squirm.
Esther notices the shift in his attention and places a hand on his chest, following his line of sight. Her perfectly arched eyebrows knit together when she spots me, lips pursing in displeasure. She leans into him, red lips moving against his ear.
No doubt trying to mark her territory.
But Elijah doesn’t budge.
I hold his stare, refusing to break first. I run my tongue along my lower lip. A muscle ticks in Elijah’s jaw. Nostrils flaring ever so slightly. I know that look. Desire wars with restraint behind his stormy eyes.
Esther’s grip on him tightens, tugging on his arm, long nails scraping against his skin until he finally meets her gaze. He relents, letting her guide him away through the crowd. But not before his eyes find mine one last time.
A dangerous smirk plays across his lips, and I remember his words.
I knew I was going to have fun with you.
The room closes in on me.
The ache of wanting him, of missing what we could have had, lodges deep.
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Want me to come with you?” Lil asks.
“No, I’m alright.” Already moving away from the table, I look for the toilets. “I need a minute to myself.”
While searching, I steal several glances at Elijah, seeing how he attempts to pull away from Esther’s grasp, who still clings to his arm like ivy on a brick wall.
Once I’m hidden away in the sanctuary of the restroom, I grip the cold marble countertop, staring up at my reflection in the mirror.
What is going on with me?
I turn on the water and splash my flushed cheeks with cold water. Get out of my head, Elijah.
Shit.
The last thing I need is to break down in a public restroom, of all places.
My movements halt at the sound of the door opening, and I straighten up, plastering on a neutral expression while scrambling for a piece of paper to dry my face.
“Love that lipstick, Gemma.” Esther’s voice drips with venom behind me.
My head whips up, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“Oh, and welcome back to civilization.” She gives me a fake smile.
“Thanks.” I throw the piece of paper in the trash.
Esther places her massive engagement ring on the side of the sink before turning on the faucet to wash her hands. “So, how have you been?”
What do you care? Here to see if I want your man? Hers. Right.
“Fine, thanks.” I take out my lipstick.
“Good to hear. I’m so busy with wedding preparations.” No one asked, but she continues. “Thank you for your congratulations, by the way.”
She knows damn well I didn’t. How self-centered can a person be?
“Of course. I wish you both the best.” The best with the man who made me feel like no one else ever managed and probably ever will. How ironic.
Esther laughs, sliding the ring on her finger. “Tell me, are you married? If not, I could hook you up with someone.”
Threatened? Are we?
“Thanks, but I’m focusing on my career right now.” That’s right. I don’t need a man.
“Ah, I see. I guess not everyone is cut out to be a wife.” There’s a cruel glint in her eyes. “How’s this career of yours going?”
“Amazing. I hope you have a good rest of the evening, Esther.” Her name comes out more forced than I wanted.
“Same to you, Gemma.” She scoffs with a winning attitude, sauntering out of the bathroom.
As the door swings shut behind her, I realize I’ve been gripping my lipstick so tightly that I almost crushed it in my hand. I shove it back into my purse and exit the restroom. Time for another drink.
The cloying smell of Esther’s disgusting perfume follows me out of the bathroom, and my stomach churns. I can’t go back there. Can’t watch Esther’s red nails dig into Elijah’s arm as she gazes up at him. Can’t see the smug expression on her face when he laughs at her lame jokes.
My feet carry me down the hall, past the throbbing music and drunken laughter spilling from the main room. I duck into a small side lounge, empty except for the bartender wiping down the counter.
“Whiskey. Neat.” I slump onto a barstool, the leather creaking under me.
The bartender raises an eyebrow but grabs a glass without comment. I drink it, relishing the burn down my throat. Anything to distract from the ache in my chest. From the memories threatening to overwhelm me.
My fingers curl around the chilled glass, condensation dripping onto the bar.
I should have asked how long she and Elijah have been engaged. The lingerie collection I’ve been working on is dedicated to the unforgettable night I spent with him.
Was he engaged when we…?
The whiskey burns going down, but I don’t care. I tilt the glass back further, draining every drop.
“Another?” The bartender asks.
I nod, avoiding his gaze as my fingers tighten around the empty glass, knuckles white. To top everything off, Oliver still won’t sign the damn papers.
The bartender sets another drink in front of me without a word, but the instant I reach out, a strong, veiny hand snatches it away.
“I hope you’re not planning to sneak out again.”