The Perfect Man (2 page)

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Authors: Amanda K. Byrne

BOOK: The Perfect Man
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I kept laughing. I laughed because if I didn’t, I’d start bawling, and Jonah didn’t deserve my tears. I laughed until my stomach ached with it. My laughter subsided, leaving me with the hiccups and a stranger holding my hands like I’d break at the slightest provocation. The concern in his eyes was hard to take, so I glanced around the room. Coats lined the walls, the lighting as dim as the rest of the place. “Another -
hic
- closet, huh?” I smirked. “R. Kelly would be proud.”

He burst out laughing, and my smirk widened to a grin. “Probably. But at least we’re not on the fifth floor.” He squeezed my hands. “So you’re Hannah? Alex.”

Alex. Simple. One syllable. “Hi -
hic
- Alex.” He stroked a finger over the back of my hand, and I drew in a breath. “Thanks for -
hic
- everything. You know.” I shrugged and lowered my gaze.

There was a commotion on the other side of the counter, and we both glanced over. Jonah stood on the other side, surprise written all over his face. “Hannah?
Hannah
.” He darted through the door and practically knocked Alex over in his haste to get to me. “Baby, are you okay?”

Alex sidled up and dropped a hand on my shoulder, and I wondered how I’d managed to earn so many good karma points, that a gorgeous man I barely knew had my back, with nothing in it for him. I reached up and fisted a hand in the front of his shirt. “Hey.”
Hic
. “Could you get me some water? Please?”

He regarded me steadily, carefully, then nodded once. After he left, I turned to Jonah. “What -
hic
- do you want?”

Jonah knelt in front of me, and the gesture was discomfortingly similar to how he’d proposed. “To see how you’re doing. You didn’t look too good a moment ago.”

And here I’d thought I’d handled it quite well. “How was Germany?”
Hic
.

For the first time since he walked through the front door, he looked uncomfortable. “Fine. Look—”

I held up a hand. “No.”
Hic
. “We’re not going to pretend everything’s all well -
hic
- and good between us. You left, decided you didn’t want to come back, and -
hic
- you didn’t want me there. It fucking hurt. A lot. I got over it.” Mostly. I was firmly in the kicking myself and regretting him stage. “Our story’s over -
hic
- and I wish you the best with whatever, and whomever, you want. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to -
hic
- sit here and listen to you.” Alex appeared in the doorway, holding a glass, and I almost wept with relief. I wasn’t lying; there was nothing left to say to Jonah. I held out a hand for the glass, and Alex stepped forward, pushing it into my hand.

I drank it in one, long gulp, then stood, locking my knees to keep from stumbling. “‘Night, Jonah.” I placed the glass on the chair, flipped through the coats until I found mine, and walked out of the tiny room.

“Hannah. You can’t just
leave
.” Jonah’s voice followed me. “We need to talk.”

I turned around. If Jonah wanted to do this here, we would. “There’s nothing to talk
about
. You ripped my heart out, you motherfucker. Any claim you might have had to me ended when you said, and I quote,
you were never going to marry me
.” The old wound broke open, bleeding sluggishly, and I bit the inside of my cheek to distract myself. “I have a life. You are not a part of it, and I have no desire to make room for you.”

If I didn’t leave soon, I’d start bawling or screaming. Possibly both. I hurried for the door, concentrating on my breathing, willing the tears to recede. Lucy or no Lucy, I was going home and enacting my original plan for the night. Though maybe I’d be daring and order Thai food instead of stuffing myself with popcorn.

I took a moment to loop my scarf around my neck and tug on my gloves—walking outside unbundled was asking for trouble—and Alex appeared at my side. “Please don’t leave me to the wolves,” he murmured, a teasing light in his eyes.

He wanted…what? Was that not a show? He stepped closer, his gaze lowering to my mouth, then meeting my eyes again. The space between us was tiny. Someone pushed into him from behind, and he jerked forward, the domino effect sending me stumbling backward. He caught me around the waist before I could twist my ankle. I gave him a rueful grin. “I suppose you can walk out with me.” He pushed open the door and we ducked into the cold.

Snow fell in fat, lazy flakes, piling onto the already tall mounds of snow, obliterating the drive. He took my hand and tucked it into his pocket, his own curved around mine, and we headed down the circular drive. “What now?” he asked.

We were mostly out of sight of the entrance, away from Jonah and Lucy and god knew who else who cared about who left with whom. But I left my hand in his, wrapped up and warm, bumping against him as we walked toward the street.

“My grand plan for the evening was sweats, a movie, and a giant bowl of popcorn.” I squinted up at him, snowflakes catching on my eyelashes.

“I like your plan. Think I could buy you a drink before I leave you to it?”

Could he? I did owe him. He’d been nothing but kind to me. If anything, I should buy
him
a drink. “No.” His smile faltered. “But I’ll buy you one.”

His bark of laughter was gun-shot loud in the snow-quieted night, yet it fit right in. “Scared me there.” His hand tightened around mine, and he nodded down the street. “Come on. Let’s get inside before you freeze.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He wasn’t going to ask about Jonah. “
I
freeze? What about you? Or are you too macho to freeze?” The heel of my boot slipped over a patch of ice, and I flailed, catching myself before I landed on my ass. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to catch my breath, waiting for my heart to return to its usual spot in my chest. “Um. No offense, but maybe I should have my hand free. These boots aren’t exactly made for walking in the snow.” The knee-high leather kept my legs warm. The three and a half inch heel was pure vanity. I loved heels, and the boots went with the dress.

He studied my feet. “They’re definitely made for something else,” he said, voice rough. His eyes flashed up to meet mine, and the heat there rooted me to the spot. An image popped into my head, the two of us naked, clothes strewn around us as he braced me against the wall, fucking me slow and deep.

And as my legs wrapped around his waist, I saw my boots, the heels digging into his ass, spurring him on.

I wasn’t cold anymore. In fact, I was very, very warm.

A snowflake landed on the tip of my nose, and he brushed it off, his hand trembling as he did. His smile was a little ragged around the edges. “How ‘bout that drink?”

Still in a daze, I nodded, and somehow my brain managed to tell my feet to get moving. We remained silent, taking each other’s measure as we picked our way down the sidewalk. I was hallucinating. Alex could not have possibly been looking at me like he wanted to devour me.
No one
had. Not even Jonah. And even if I wasn’t, I didn’t know if I could handle what it meant. If I could let go of my residual anger at myself and the fear of being hurt again.

If I could handle a one night stand.

I’d never had one before. It wasn’t my style. Sex was too closely tied to emotion for me to just…indulge.

I was
so
getting ahead of myself. A polite and friendly conversation did not a one-night stand make.

He paused in front of a cafe, the warm glow of low lights beckoning us in. “This okay?”

We stepped inside, warmth rushing forward to envelop us. I scanned the room. It was smaller than the club we’d left, more intimate. Little round tables for two dotted the floor, and most of them were full. There were a few booths along the back wall, cloaked in shadows.

We found a table toward the back and shrugged out of our coats, unwinding scarves, tucking away gloves. Alex rested his elbows on the table, his gaze on my hair. “I like it. Reminds me of Saffron.”

It was a little scary that he’d identified the inspiration for my hair color without me having to give so much as a hint. “The lead singer of Republica? You’ve heard of them? Pretty much no one has.”

He smiled. “‘Ready To Go’ was an awesome song.” It had been, but the mid-nineties had been full of awesome songs. “I liked Sneaker Pimps better, though. Kelli Dayton’s voice was less annoying.”

I rubbed my hands over my arms, debated slipping my coat back on. Warm as the cafe was, the cold had penetrated deep in the short time we’d been outside. “Saffron does have a bit of a whine going on, doesn’t she?” I glanced up at the waiter, hovering next to our table. “Hot chocolate, please.”

“Cold?” I shrugged, then nodded. Alex frowned, concern in his dark eyes. “I should have let you go home. It’s too cold out to be walking around.” To the waiter, he said, “Chai tea.”

I waved it off. “No, I’m fine. Frankly, sitting here with you gives me something to tell Lucy when she asks where I disappeared to.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how horrible they sounded. My teeth clicked together as my jaw snapped shut, fire burning up my neck to the tips of my ears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I—”

He held up a hand to stop me, mouth quirked in a half smile. “Don’t worry about it.” The half smile faded. “Why were you there, anyway? Like I said earlier, you don’t look like the kind of woman who would attend something like that.”

I drop my gaze to the tabletop. “It was a favor for a friend. She’s been worried about me for so long, wanted me to get out and meet someone new, and I felt like I owed her.” I peered at him through my lashes. “What about you? I can’t believe you couldn’t find a date for Valentine’s Day.”

He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally he shrugged, the movement jerky and uncertain. “I work a lot. Meeting new people is hard. I thought it would be different, less of a bar scene. Should have turned right around the minute I stepped inside.”

I arched a brow.

He looked confused, then burst out laughing. “Fuck. Walked right into that, didn’t I? If it helps, the night started getting a hell of a lot better the minute you locked us in that closet.”

The waiter deposited our steaming beverages in front of us, and I curved my hands around the oversized cup, letting the heat seep into my hands. “I’m just thankful you weren’t pointing a Beretta at me.” I lifted the mug and sipped, burning the tip of my tongue. “Ow.”

“Not a fan of guns, and why would I want to point a weapon at a beautiful woman?” I almost bobbled the cup at the offhand compliment, and I shot him a look over the rim of my cup. He was smiling, his hands much like mine, curled around his mug of tea, but his eyes were dead serious. “Plus, where am I going to find
anyone
who appreciates the beauty of
Trapped in the Closet
?”

“I can’t possibly be the only one.” There was a strange fluttering in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Too many coincidences in a short period of time. All of it stupidly inconsequential, but my mind raced with possibilities anyway. A man, an absolutely gorgeous man, was sitting across from me talking 90’s music and bad pseudo-opera, and for all intents and purposes seemed like he was enjoying himself. Maybe I’d broken my bad luck streak.

If I thought about it too much, I’d screw up. I pushed the thoughts aside. “So what do you do that keeps you so busy?” I risked another sip of cocoa.

“I’m an EMT. I usually work swing or night shift. Not real conducive to hanging out, much less dating.” He took a small drink of tea. “You?”

“Grant writer. I work from home.” In a big, comfy chair with a blanket over my legs. Those first months after Jonah it had been a blessing. I didn’t have to leave my apartment for anything. Groceries, work, nothing.

He shook his head. “I don’t think I could do that. No incentive to actually get anything done.”

“Getting paid is usually a pretty big incentive,” I said dryly. “Favorite 90’s one-hit wonder?”

A frown tugged at his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is there a right answer to this question? Lot of pressure. Don’t know if I can take it.” I threw a packet of sugar at him. “‘Medicine.’ Orbit.”

I pointed at him. “Ah, see, that was the right answer. You picked a song I’ve never heard of, which automatically scores you points. Now I have to hear this song.”

My phone rang, and I almost jumped out of my chair. Releasing my cup, I dug into my coat pocket and pulled it out. It was Jonah. He could kiss my ass. I declined the call and leaned my elbows on the table. “What about ‘Novocaine for the Soul?’”

“The Eels? Sorry, I’ve heard of them. Try again.”

I narrowed my eyes, searching my memory for a particularly obscure choice. “‘Female of the Species.’”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. Ran a hand through his hair. “No clue,” he said at last.

I grinned, oddly satisfied I managed to stump him. “Space.”

My phone rang again. Lucy’s number flashed on the screen. I held up the phone. “Do you mind if I take this? It’s the friend I came with. I don’t want her to worry.”

He nodded and lifted his mug, and I hit Accept. “Luce.”

“God, Hannah. I’ve been looking for you
everywhere
. Listen, Jonah showed up. I don’t know how the hell he managed to find the one place you’d be tonight, but he’s here. I’m waiting by the coat check if you want to leave.”

I slid a glance at Alex. “Um. Actually, I already did.” I hunched in my seat, shoulders around my ears as I waited for Lucy to start flipping out.

“What?! Why didn’t you come find me first? I would have given you a ride home! How
did
you get home, anyway?”

I stifled a sigh at her automatic assumption I’d skipped out for home. “I’m actually in a cafe, having some hot chocolate. Probably going home soon. As for how, I’ll walk or take a cab.”

Alex set his cup down and shook his head as Lucy started protesting. “It’s too cold and slick out to walk that far, Han. And there’s no point in wasting money on a cab ride. I’ll come to you, give you a ride home.”

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