Finding You, an all-new second chance romance from debut author Lena Hendrix is available now!!
The moment she walked in, I felt it. Static electricity crackled in the air. My head whipped up to see her pushing the entrance to the door open, scanning for an empty table.
Maybe she won’t see me. Make an excuse to Colin and just leave. You can’t trust yourself around her.
The way her hair billowed from the breeze outside as the door closed had my pulse galloping. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.
There was a decent crowd to eat and enjoy the band, but not a few steps into the bar, she saw me. Joanna stopped abruptly. Something flickered over her face, and she looked down, but then suddenly back up and stared directly at me.
With purposeful strides, she walked straight to my small table. Fuck.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Ignore the tightness in your chest. Breathe. “That’s small-town life for you. Not a lot of options on a weeknight.” I couldn’t seem to look at her.
“Apparently.” At that, she smiled. “I was just popping in to get a bite. Can you keep me company?” she asked, already pulling the chair from under the table.
I just looked at the chair, and she paused. Don’t be a dick.
“Of course. I already ate but you can have the table.” I shifted to stand.
“Please, don’t go because of me,” she said, looking down. “If I make you that uncomfortable, I can eat somewhere else.”
I recovered from the citrus scent of her hair long enough to realize how much of an asshole I was still being. Clearly, she was trying to make things less awkward and I wasn’t letting her.
“No,” I said, sighing. “Of course not. It’s fine.”
Joanna sat, looking around and tapping her finger on the scarred wood top of the table. The corner section was tight, forcing us to sit side by side, knees nearly touching. I stared at the beer between my hands and focused on breathing rather than how soft her hair looked as pieces of it fell from her bun.
As the silence stretched, she added, “I’m sorry if I made things uncomfortable on the trip.”
“Oh.” I turned to finally look at her. Her eyes were cast down, picking at an imaginary something on the wood. “No, it’s fine. It was . . .” I didn’t know how to do this.
“Well, I thought about it and I think we should just let this be . . .” she waved a hand in the air, “whatever it was. Friends?” She reached out her hand to me.
I looked down at her slim hand. It looked so small compared to mine, and I couldn’t help but remember how it felt when it had run up the muscles of my back as I drove into her.
Pushing the thought from my mind, I slid my hand into hers, and she pumped it once and nodded her head.
“Friends,” she confirmed.
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