I’m not sure why I agreed to come to this engagement party. It feels like a bad call now, and painfully obvious that I’m probably the only person who attended such an elegant event without a plus one. The bride-to-be is a new friend, someone I only met a few months ago through my mother’s nonprofit foundation, but my parents know her family through their respective circles. We hit it off so well that when she invited me to her engagement party, I had to say yes. Something also told me it would be a nice change from the everyday, getting out of the house, spending time rubbing shoulders with New York City’s wealthiest families in a decadently formal ballroom that’s decorated in ornate finishes and accents.

Not that those things have ever mattered to me. They haven’t. But it’s a welcome change from the everyday, especially considering that my day to day routine involves keeping myself cooped up indoors for months and months at a time, other than going to work five days a week.

At least I thought it was a welcome change. Getting out of the house and meeting new people outside of work sounded good at the time, but since I walked in through these impressive ballroom doors, I haven’t found anyone I know personally. But maybe I’m wrong. I’m still hoping that if I could just find one friendly face, this night out won’t be a complete waste.

Although, with every passing minute, I feel less and less interested in being here.

What I should’ve done was find an excuse to turn her down nicely. Other than the bride-to be, I don’t personally know a soul here. I checked and double checked. Sure, there are one or two familiar faces around. Most of them are contributors to Mom’s nonprofit. A couple are backers of my father, the Senator of this fine state. None of them are what I’d call wingperson-worthy. Except for the bride-to-be, and of course she’s surrounded by hundreds of guests all wanting to wish her well for her engagement to her fiancé. And rightly so. This party is for her.

Aware that the next hour or so will be incredibly awkward, I busy myself with ordering a drink. Then another. And a third and a fourth. The least I can do is get a buzz going with all this free top shelf booze before I head out for a cab home. That fourth drink does me in, though. I’m right at the point where my haziness can quickly turn to nausea, lowered inhibitions and bad, bad decisions.

Thankfully, I have just enough of my faculties to decide I’ll put a timeframe on my exit before I do anything I might regret. Having a politician as a parent has always meant that I have to mind my manners and keep a tight rein on what I do and say when people are around. Which is why I’ve become such a homebody. There’s no point tempting fate by allowing myself to be in the public eye, with my actions placed under a microscope the second I step outside my home.

As I wander through the thick crowd, counting down the time I’ll hang around before making my getaway, I’m acutely aware of myself. Shyness is my default setting, so being here alone only makes it worse. It took years of working on myself to break through my comfort zone when I agreed to take such a client-oriented job with my mother. Personally, I’d prefer to be hiding out in a back room reading. If I could do that for a living, I would. I like being alone.

But right now, all the effort to step outside my shell seems wasted. The shy little girl I used to be starts to push through to the forefront all of a sudden. I awkwardly drop my arms to my sides, unsure what to do with my hands, how to stand, and find myself looking away whenever anyone makes eye contact. The more I think about how weird this all feels, the harder it becomes to act natural.

When I’m halfway through my allotted time to stick around, I throw in the towel. It’s pointless being here. I decide to have one last drink, say a few words to the happy bride-to-be so she knows I honored my promise to show up, then I can leave. Maybe it isn’t the best attitude to have at a party, but then again, I’ve never been one for socializing at the best of times, so no amount of time, pasted-on smiles, or alcohol will help me get any closer to enjoying this event.

Know thyself.

That should have been my mantra before I stepped into these basic four-inch pumps, threw on this red, sparkly knee-length cocktail dress that Mom bought me, and applied a bit of barely there makeup before coming out. Even at college, letting loose wasn’t something I did. I kept my head down and worked hard because it was easier than facing the discomfort of getting to know new people. Of course, it paid off when I graduated with honors, so it’s not all bad. Mind you, I’m still figuring out what I want to do with said education. Somewhere between burying myself in text books and avoiding people, I forgot to firm up my life plan along the way. But working at my mother’s nonprofit is enough of a challenge, and reasonably rewarding. It’s okay for now.

All of a sudden, a weird prickle starts to crawl up my back to the base of my neck as I head to the bar near the front entrance of the massive ballroom. The hairs there stand on end. Goosebumps run up and down my arms. I have the sudden overwhelming sensation that someone in the crowd is watching me. It could be my imagination but the feeling is so intense I start to look around, needing to know who it is if I’m right.

As I make a half turn, a strange excitement comes over me. It’s as if my body is already expecting something epic and monumental to happen. And my weird one-time premonition is immediately confirmed the moment I find myself tumbling into the brilliant blue gaze that can only come from one face. A face I haven’t seen in a long time, and quite frankly one I never expected to lay eyes on ever again.

Especially not up close like this.

Knox Steele.

My heart pounds with a bit of fear, a smidgen of elation, and more anticipation than I thought possible. Knox is a blast from the past. He was my childhood best friend, someone I trusted with all my secrets, and the guy I always thought would be in my life so we could be there for each other.

Until he left for college.

We went from everything to nothing in five seconds flat. It still hurts that he’s not been in my life. And I still don’t know why. From where I was standing, nothing had ended on bad terms, and we didn’t have any bad blood between us. But he cut all ties with me and I never could figure out what I did to cause it. During the first couple of years, I assumed I must have slipped up somehow. Later on, I came to terms with the idea that he outgrew our friendship. Which was tragic for me because I have very few friends. I forced myself to move on. Forced myself to let him go.

And here he is, standing in front of me with what are now sinfully sexy eyes full of broody darkness, that hard, sharp yet handsome face with the scar that adds a heaping dose of mystery and danger to him, and this broad, chiseled, muscular body that ripples with every movement under his tux. How is he here at this event? I thought I’d seen everyone but clearly, I missed one. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to bump into here.

“Isabelle.” Knox knits together his eyebrows as though just seeing my face is confusing to him. That’s fair, because I feel the exact same way about finding him here. “It’s been…a while. I almost can’t believe it’s you.”

My body’s fight-or-flight response is on overdrive. My legs desperately want to turn and run at a million miles an hour, and my fingertips tingle with an unbelievable urge to either slap him in the face or punch him hard in the jaw. But my limbs have gone numb. I can’t move.

“Knox,” I eventually reply, and hear my surprise dripping off my tongue. “Same here. It’s been, well years.”

“It has,” he says quietly. Knox cocks his head to one side as he examines me closely, inspecting me from head to toe, snaking his gaze down my body so slowly that it may as well be his hands. It feels all kinds of wrong because he’s never looked at me this way. I can almost feel his eyes as it meets every inch of me.

“How have you been?” I ask, hoping to direct his eyes back to my face so I can regain the use of my limbs.

“Good. We should catch up soon, if you’d like.”

My eyes narrow. Catch up? I don’t want to catch up. I want to confront him. I want to know why he threw out our friendship like it was yesterday’s trash. I want to hurt him like he hurt me back then when he left without a goodbye and cut me out of his life. I want his heart to hurt, to burn, to crumble, to break into a million pieces with no chance of ever being whole again. Like mine is.

But more than anything, as much as I hate to admit it, I miss him. I miss us. Desperately. I want what we used to have. I want my best friend back. Sure, he was an animal. A cruel beast. But he was my beast.

“I don’t know if you’ll like what happens if we sit down to talk, but sure, I’m game.”

He points back at the bar. “How about a drink?”

“I was just about to leave, but…” I start to explain and hear my voice trailing off. How is it that I neglected to mention I actually was on my way to the bar for my last drink of the night anyway? But I’ve never been a smooth talker, so in spite of no longer wanting to bail on this engagement party, something stops me from adding that last part. Still, this could be one of those once-in-a-lifetime second chances to reconnect. For all I know, after I leave this party tonight, we’ll go back to never crossing paths and our friendship may stay dead. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to walk away from him just yet. “Yes, okay, a drink sounds nice. Thanks.”

I follow behind Knox, allowing my eyes to travel down the length of his body. As I look at him through my adult eyes, there’s fluttering in the pit of my stomach that comes from out of nowhere. Now that he’s in front of me after all this time, all kinds of girlish fantasies come flooding in. Thoughts I’d never entertained before come over me.

I can see now why no one believed we weren’t an item back in high school. Knox Steele is all kinds of sexy and completely irresistible. How I managed to not take a bite out of this apple back then is beyond me. The popular high school girls all adored him, and he was whispered about in the hallways more than any of the other boys. But during all that time we were friends, his bad boy allure never affected me in a sensual way. God knows why. I was either naïve, filtering out these juicy bits of his sex appeal, or just plain blind. Though I must admit I was thoroughly content to be his close friend. He shared a side of himself with me that none of the other girls ever saw.

He gave me his trust.

He shared his secrets.

He let me see all his flaws.

He showed me the real Knox.

His girlfriends and groupies and bed warmers would come and go, but I was his true friend. Knox confided in me in ways he never would with them, and that made me feel like I was more special to him. Maybe I put too much weight in the fact that I knew Knox better than anyone else. Thinking back, I might’ve been smug and self-righteous about it too.

Now I can’t help but wonder if I should’ve been jumping his bones the entire time. Maybe I made a mistake being “just friends” with this ruggedly gorgeous creature.

“What’s your poison?” His lips graze my earlobe as he asks me the question in a sultry baritone voice at the bar. A voice that travels straight to my core and makes my knees weak enough to buckle.

“Sparkling white wine, thank you.”

As he turns back to give the bartender our order, I flick my eyes over the rest of the party, really looking at them now that I’ll stay a while longer. Back at home, when I threw on this dress, I was feeling pretty good about my look. But now, looking around, I feel infinitely more self-assured with Knox beside me. He’s always had that effect on me, although he’d also say that I’m too gorgeous to be shy, just like he always used to. I never saw what he saw in me that made him believe I was that great-looking. I guess it goes to show that beauty really is in the eyes of the beholder. What I see when I look in the mirror is a plain girl with odd hazel eyes and facial features that are a little more elongated than they should be. I’ve never been the girl that turns heads, which is fine with me because of my shyness. Blending into the background is quite all right with me.

But Knox sees something else.

Knox gazes intently at me as he hands me my drink. “So, beautiful, what have you been up to in the last... what, decade? Give or take.”

“Oh, you know, this and that.” I nervously tuck my clutch purse into the crook of my inner elbow. He still knows how to bring the color to my cheeks with just words. There was a time when we knew each other inside and out, and now, with a gap of close to ten years of not seeing each other, some of that closeness returns as though it never left. But the truth is we know nothing about each other today. We could be two completely different people. How did he let so much time pass?

“I heard you stayed in town for college. How was it?”

“Good. I didn’t study business or politics, or anything super-marketable as my parents like to say, but I enjoyed majoring in English.”

“And you’re helping out your mom, right? I believe I saw something in her last charity gala invite.”

“Yes. It pays the bills.” I nod and let out a nervous laugh. Deep down, I’m relieved that he kept up with what I’ve been doing. I take it to mean that he cares. Lord knows I need to believe he still does.

“Knowing you, you’re probably running the charity from behind the scenes. You were always modest to a fault.” He grins, reminding me that he does still know me even if it doesn’t feel like it anymore.

“Not quite running it, but I know my way around the operation. Mom’s stance has always been that she’s preparing me as her successor. She was hoping my sister would eventually take interest, but reality has set in, I think.”

“Yes, I remember. Bethany was…different…cut from a different cloth from the rest of your family. How’s she doing?”

“Great,” I answer to keep it short because every detail of Bethany’s life is a long, long story. “And what about you?”

His face darkens for a split second, and I hope my question doesn’t cause him to relive his family tragedy.

“I’m good. Helping out Pops with the business,” he eventually replies without an ounce of enthusiasm and my chest tightens at the thought.

It’s no surprise to me. The idea of working in the airplane industry must bring him daily torture after losing his parents in a plane crash. No one can fault him for being so disinterested in the family business. I don’t want or need to ask him to elaborate. I can tell that such an unfortunate irony still keeps a solid barrier between him and his corporate legacy.

“So, it sounds like we both ended up where we were expected to,” I comment idly. “Not too surprising.”

“Yeah and next thing we know, you and I will end up together.” Knox half smirks through his offhand remark.

I stiffen up and feel the anger rise. Heat floods my cheeks and my fingers tighten around my wine glass. “That would be…strange… you know, considering that ten years went by without us so much as saying one word to each other.”

“True. Pops and your parents were rooting for us to hit it off at one point. Remember?”

“I try not to.”

“Well, well.” A guy I’d recognize anywhere bounds over to Knox’s side and throws and arm over his shoulder. He has a beautiful woman with gorgeous red hair on his other arm and a beaming grin on his face. “Isabelle! What a nice surprise. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Hi Foster. Yes, it has.”

“We need to get the band back together,” he jokes, but I’m not laughing. Knox’s departure also took Foster from me. It’s like our friendship was just by extension, a coincidence because we were only connected because of Knox. He looks over at Knox then back at me. “Lilac and I are about to head out. You two want to come with?”

“Uh, where to?” I ask.

“A club. Or a bar or restaurant somewhere. I’m close to overstaying my welcome in this joint. Join us. There’s lots of room in the limo.”

I’m no party girl. I wouldn’t know what to do or how to act on a dance floor if my life depended on it.

Knox glances at me and instantly reads the hesitation on my face. “You go on ahead, buddy. Isabelle and I are sticking around for a drink. Or a few.”

Foster leans over Knox’s shoulder and flashes me a playful, knowing grin. “You two could never fool me back then.”

I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about. Foster championed the rumor that Knox and I were an item back in high school. He never got that a man and woman could be close without getting it on. Of course, I’m thoroughly aware that Knox’s decision to stay behind has nothing to do with hooking up. We’ve never crossed the line and that won’t change. But it’s a strange thrill to have someone assume we’re more than friends. How can I not feel a little giddy about that? Knox Steele is a man wanted by half the women in the room. I can see the looks coming his way since he approached me. They’re ready to line up for him, but right now, he’s with me. That familiar smugness rising up in my chest feels like old times again.

I throw Foster a naughty wink to give him the wrong idea, and take another drink of my wine. It’s nice to be thought of as the sexy temptress, the vixen. Being the good girl all my life didn’t get me very far, and it sure wasn’t nearly as much fun as I’d wanted. Maybe letting loose is exactly what my life is missing. Things have felt one dimensional and so predictable for so long. But now, Knox is back, and with him, a spark of desire ignites within me. Some fun might be just what I need.

Foster grins as he pats Knox on the arm. “You two lovebirds have fun.”

Knox shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line as Foster walks away. I can’t help but wish there was some truth to the notion. After he disappeared from my life, I missed what we had so much that all that yearning led to more. Pretty soon after that, I wanted more than just friendship from him. There have been countless moments like this, where all I fantasized about was Knox. He would show up from out of nowhere and beg me to forgive him for leaving me behind. He’d lean in and claim my lips, then ravage my body. But that’s never going to happen. Not the apology, and not the torrid makeout session. As before, his presence is all I get, and it’ll have to be enough. Only now, it doesn’t quite satisfy me in the same way that it did back then.

“Come with me.” Knox’s tone is firm.

“What? Where to?”

That sweet smile I remember crawls up his face. “Somewhere quiet. I want to hear what you’ve been up to.”

“Okay,” I answer, although my agreement is a moot point, given that he’s already taken my hand and is leading me further into the ballroom.

One-on-one time with Knox sounds more risky and dangerous than fun. I just got him back and if I don’t control myself, I’ll lose him just as quickly. The wine has already relaxed my tongue, so I’m liable to say what I think about him abandoning me, and I’ll end up shutting him down. I just hope I can tamp down the butterflies in my stomach and the heat that’s begun to flood my core.