Unlike Minh, Gali didn’t hesitate to curse out loud—whenever and wherever she felt like it. Though Minh couldn’t blame her for doing it just now.
“It’s a smaller world than I’d thought, I guess.” He came forward, his hand outstretched, and Gali managed to regain enough composure to take it.
“Chris Reichert. I’m Daria’s brother.”
Gali’s eyes were still wide, but she came forward to introduce herself. Within seconds, she and Daria fell into chatter about the décor, and any awkwardness eased. After another minute, Gali and Daria headed on a brief tour of the place, leaving Minh and Chris standing in silence.
Next to her, she felt him shift, even though he didn’t move an inch. Why was she hyper aware of this guy?
Because you’re still ridiculously attracted to him
Maybe he was looking exceptionally hot in his funky outfit today, his fedora now clasped in one hand as he stood in her living room and looked around. And maybe she couldn’t help but think how he was even more attractive in person than he’d been in her dreams. But none of that mattered. He was all wrong.
She tried ignoring him, but he seemed intent on talking to her.
“So…crazy coincidence, eh?”
She couldn’t help bristling, trying to protect herself in the suddenly too-intimate space of her own living room. She crossed her arms and turned to face him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Is it?” She knew she was being too aggressive, but it was the only response she could handle right now.
For a second, he just gaped at her, but then he took a step forward, tightening the space between them. “You think I’ve been stalking you or something?”
Oh, God. Had she really implied such a horrible thing? Just like that, she deflated, all her posturing collapsing in on itself.
“No! I’m sorry, I—” Her hand fluttered up and came to rest on his chest. It was meant to be a gesture of peace, but her palm landed on muscle hard enough that she could feel the firmness even through his shirt and suit jacket.
The muscle jumped at her touch, and her fingers flexed in response, pushing even harder against his body. Almost grabbing him.
What are you doing?
She gasped and started to pull her hand away, but he reached up and circled his fingers around her wrist, slowly lowering it for her, as though he didn’t quite trust her next move.
She couldn’t blame him.
“It’s cool.” His voice held no reproach. It had dropped, low and gruff, and she realized that they were standing much closer than was polite.
She jumped back. He let go of her wrist as she moved away, but otherwise he was motionless, just staring at her with those burning blue eyes.
What—what was it about him? Why couldn’t she seem to act properly whenever she was around him? Five minutes in his presence and she’d already managed to accuse him of something heinous, touch him too familiarly, and then stare at him in silence like a total loser.
God. She was losing her mind. All those rejections and that horrible date…that must be what was happening.
You used that excuse last night, and it was just as weak then as it is now.
She scrambled for something to say, but he spoke first, thankfully changing the subject. “Who was playing that music right before Daria and I showed up? It sounded like a violin, but it was amped up.”
He didn’t look away from her, and she had to take a deep breath before she answered. Why did even just talking to him feel so…charged? “I was playing. Electric violin, so…yes. It was plugged into an amplifier.”
She had to turn her head so that she couldn’t see his eyes. Even saying those simple words to him felt too intimate.
“It was good stuff. Who’s it by?” He sounded genuinely interested, and for a second, the wrong part of her—the part that composed songs with no rules—responded with so much intensity that she had to fist her hands tightly at her sides, nails biting into the skin of her palms, to keep from touching him again. Just to feel connected to him and whatever energy kept pulling them together.
“Uh, you mean, who wrote the music?”
She forced herself to look back at him, and he nodded, genuinely interested.
That wild feeling returned.
No one but Gali knew about the kind of brash, risky stuff she wrote in private. Growing up, she’d learned early on that being too different was a disadvantage. She’d ignored those lessons when she was with Richard, and she’d paid the price.
And when it came to different, Chris was definitely not someone she should involve herself with, despite the heated desire he called forth in her. She wasn’t about to add fuel to the fire by sharing something so personal with him.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Coward.