The Heartless Boyfriend
Page 28
“Calliope?” Megan seemed surprised to hear Julian use her full name. No one did that.
“Yes.” Julian beamed a proud smile and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her in against him. His expensive cologne overwhelmed the scents of sage and mountain air. “Calliope and I met in the graduate program at NYU.” He gave her an adoring smile. “I fell in love with her the moment I saw her.”
Gratitude flooded her. She loved his unwavering devotion. But she had to fix things with Megan, so she reached for her friend’s forearm. “Hey, can we talk later? I’d love to catch up with you.”
“Behind you.” Megan gestured to a waiter offering them a tray of flutes.
“Ah, perfect.” Julian lifted two glasses and handed one to Megan and the other to Callie. He took a third one for himself before thanking the waiter. “I’m so pleased to meet Calliope’s friends and family. How long have you two known each other?”
“We met in elementary school.” Callie hadn’t told him anything about her past, so now wasn’t the time to reveal that she’d had no real friends until Megan. An introvert, she’d kept mostly to herself. Well, until she and Fin had gotten together—and then the whole world had split open. “She was my closest friend.”
Megan’s attention roamed the crowd, barely acknowledging her.
She’d try another tactic. “Do you remember that time we—”
“What’s with the hair, wild thing?” The all-too familiar deep, rough voice cracked through her like a thunderclap.
It might have been a while since she’d heard it, but her body responded like a rosebud starved for sunlight. Every cell bloomed and strained in his direction.
Her stomach lurched, and she did not want to turn around. She didn’t want to look at him. With fight or flight kicking in, it took every bit of strength she had not to run like he’d just tossed a lit match at her feet and set her on fire.
“Hey, Fin,” Megan said.
Brushing Callie’s arm as he reached across the small circle they made, Fin met Megan in the middle for a hug. His scent—that hint of sage and clean clothes, the essence of Fin—swirled around her, filling her senses and sending her crashing back in time. She had a matter of seconds to pull herself together and treat him like an acquaintance. Julian didn’t know about him, so she needed to just be normal, but turbulence scrambled her system, and her mind went blank.
And that pissed her off. She’d prepared for this moment. Hell, she’d rehearsed it. But living it, having him right here, she just…dammit. No matter how many nights she’d lain awake scripting this interaction, she couldn’t control her body’s reaction.
Come on. She gave herself an internal shake. He’s just a guy.
But when he pulled back, he turned his full attention on her and…Oh, my God.
For the first time in years, she looked Fin Bowie, in all his six feet two inches of rock-hard muscle, in the eyes. A tremble started from deep within, rising in velocity until her composure shook like a tree in a violent storm. Last time she’d seen him, he’d been a boy. A gorgeous, untamed, mischievous boy who’d kept her on edge for most of her life. His wild, free spirit made him impossible to nail down.
But the boy she’d loved so fiercely had nothing on the man who stood before her. With his overgrown dark hair and bright blue eyes, he was a shock of rugged, raw power next to her lean, elegant boyfriend.
Of course he’d worn jeans to a rehearsal dinner, the white button down shirt the only nod to the dressy occasion. Not like Julian’s pressed shirt, though. No, Fin’s looked like he’d swiped it off a pile of discarded clothes on the floor on his way out of the shower. He’d shoved the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing tanned, muscular forearms.
Julian would have carefully folded the cuff until it fell just below the elbow. And he would’ve spent a minute adjusting it in front of a mirror.
Fin didn’t own a mirror.
“Fin.” The way he tilted his head in confusion made her think she sounded more stuck-up than pleasant. Snap out of it right now. But she couldn’t—not when he looked at her as if he could see straight through her make-up and fancy clothes, right down to the trembling heart of her.
He reached for a lock of her hair and tugged it. “You iron it?”
Julian, always well-mannered, stepped back to include the new addition to the conversation. “Her hair?”
Fin tugged it again. “It’s brown.”
“That’s her natural color.” Julian’s smile remained fixed despite the crinkle on his brow. He reached out his hand. “Julian Reyes.”
“Fin Bowie.” Fin shifted his beer bottle to his other hand so they could shake, and Callie caught the moment Fin noticed the slight sheen on Julian’s manicured fingernails.
Too quickly, Fin let go and turned his attention back to her. He didn’t move closer, but somehow she felt crowded by him. The entire backyard and all its guests faded away until it was just the two of them. She could smell the mountain air on his skin. He was sun-warmed meadows and bracing snow-covered summits. He was tangled sheets and calloused hands. Bone-melting kisses and thrilling gropes in public places.
He was abject heartbreak.
About the Author
Award-winning author Erika Kelly has been spinning romantic tales all her life—she just didn’t know it. Raised on the classics, she didn’t discover romantic fiction until later in life. From that moment on, she’s been devouring the genre and has found her true voice as an author. Over three decades she’s written poems, screenplays, plays, short stories, and all kinds of women’s fiction novels. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she lives in the northeast, drinks a lot of tea, and is always waiting for her cats to get off her keyboard.
https://www.erikakellybooks.com/