The two women sipped their drinks. Lexie eyed her cautiously over the rim of her glass. Charlotte eyed her right back. The streak of animosity sliding back and forth between them was unmistakable.
And then, just as she’d expected, the claws came out.
“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Lexie said in a low voice.
Charlotte bristled. “Oh really? Last I checked, I was still born and raised here, just like you.”
“Your mother’s gone. Your house is gone. There’s nothing here for you anymore.”
Anger swirled around in the pit of her stomach. Of all the mean-spirited, presumptuous things—the anger suddenly faded into pure, unadulterated shock.
Nate Bishop had just appeared in the crowd.
Her surroundings dissolved in an abrupt swoosh. Lexie was gone, the music went silent, her former classmates disappeared.
All she saw was Nate.
Her breath jammed in her throat as she realized he was no longer the gorgeous teenager she remembered.
He was so much more.
His body had filled out, transforming from lanky to deliciously big. His casual black blazer stretched over a set of broad shoulders, the blue button-down beneath it doing nothing to hide the rippled muscles of his chest. His waist was trim, legs hugged by a pair of black trousers, and his hair was longer, dark strands falling onto a proud forehead and curling under his ears.
He was walking toward her.
Charlotte’s pulse took off in a frenzied gallop. Her gaze locked with a pair of familiar gray eyes. His face was as handsome as she remembered, save for a few new lines around his mouth and eyes, which only made him all the more distinguished.
The closer he got, the faster her heart pounded, and by the time he approached, she couldn’t hear a thing over the drumming in her ears.
“Charlotte.”
The husky voice she remembered so clearly seared right through the silky material of her dress and heated every inch of her skin.
She found her voice but it still came out raspy. “Nate.”
He shifted, looking big and awkward and so unbelievably sexy. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” she murmured.
Silence fell over them. She was suddenly aware of Lexie beside her, of Lexie’s blue eyes slowly moving from Charlotte to Nate.
Across the square, the band changed its tempo, the singer belting out a slow Sinatra classic.
Charlotte took a breath and met Nate’s eyes. “Would you like to dance?”
Pure torture. Nate’s entire body was tight as a drum, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs as he drew Charlotte into his arms and finally laid his hands on the woman who had haunted him for more than a decade.
She was spectacular. Far more beautiful than those album covers and live concerts portrayed her to be. Charlotte in person was a fucking wet dream. His cock throbbed against his zipper just from the sight of her.
She was still tiny, barely over five feet. Still curvy, the hills and valleys of her figure hugged by a green dress with a deep vee neckline and a filmy skirt that seductively swirled around her knees. Her bright red hair was tied up in a twist, with wavy wisps framing her heart-shaped face and contrasting wildly with her pale, almost lime-green eyes. Her cupid’s bow of a mouth made his own mouth tingle, and the way she pressed her body into his had him battling the impulse to throw her down on the floor and devour her.
“You look good,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Nate rested his palms on her waist, fighting the urge to tug her even closer and rub his aching dick against the juncture of her thighs. “You look good too.”
Good? Talk about the understatement of the year.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
They moved to the music in a slow, sensual rhythm. From the corner of his eye, Nate saw Lexie watching them in disapproval. He spun Charlotte around so he wouldn’t have to see Lexie anymore. Charlotte was back. Charlotte was in his arms. Right now, that was all that mattered.
“I’ve been following your career,” he said gruffly. “You’ve done really well for yourself, Charlie.”
She hissed in a breath.
His hand froze on her slender hip. “What?”
“It’s just…nobody’s called me that in years.” Uneasiness flickered across her face. “Actually, you’re the only one who ever did.”
Nate’s chest squeezed as he absorbed the expression in her eyes. She was thinking about the past. More specifically, their past. Even more specific—the night he’d broken her heart.
He drew in a ragged breath. He’d always known that eventually he’d have to explain himself. To tell Charlotte why he’d done what he did.
“I’m glad you came home,” he said in a quiet voice. “After you left, I wanted so badly to—”
A red manicured finger pressed against his lips. “I don’t want to talk about why I left.”
Surprise jolted through him. “No?”
She shook her head. “It’s in the past, Nate. I’m over it.”
Relief and doubt warred in his body. “You are?”
A tiny smile tugged on the corner of her lush mouth. “We were kids. I know you probably didn’t even mean half of what you said.”