Page 2 of One Last Thing Before You Go

He smiles and shakes his head. “If your laugh didn’t make you ten times more beautiful than you already are, I’d be slightly offended.”

My breath catches at the way his words fall over me, the look on his face as his gaze bounces from my eyes to my lips and back again. Not wanting to get caught up in whatever the hell just happened, I look down at my martini and whisper, “That was a terrible pick-up line.”

Normally, I would cringe if a guy I’d just met said something like that to me. But something about the way he carries himself, the way he looks at me, tells me he meant what he said. When our eyes meet once again, I feel as though the air has been sucked out of the bar, and I know he can feel it too. He fidgets in his seat, his smile dropping just enough for me to notice as he stares down at me with surprising affection.

“It wasn’t a line. I’d bet my life that you don’t give those smiles away easily. So thank you for that.”

An unfamiliar tightness builds in my chest as I’m suddenly at a loss for words.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not usually like this, discombobulated and tongue-tied. I mean, it’s not the first time a hot man talks to me, for god’s sake.

We’re quiet for a moment—my eyes on my drink, his eyes on me. We’re not touching, but it’s as if I can feel every inch of his body, the heat of it, all over mine. And I’m not completely sure that I hate it.

Alejandro, misinterpreting my discomfort from the other end of the bar, walks over. “Everything okay over here?” he asks, glaring at the hot stranger before looking back at me.

Ignoring him, I ask the stranger “Can I get you a drink?”

He smiles broadly, sitting up straight. His lopsided grin is heart-melting; it forces me to thank the universe for the barstool beneath me, holding me up despite my weakened knees. “You gonna buy me a drink?”

“No, I mean⁠—”

He laughs softly. “I know what you meant. Yes, I’d love that. Thank you.”

I nod emphatically at Alejandro, who doesn’t look too happy about the flirting going on right under his nose—especially given tonight’s circumstances. He holds my gaze for a moment, frustrated, before rolling his eyes and turning to my new friend. “Well?” he asks, impatient.

The stranger stifles a laugh and orders an IPA, which is delivered promptly with a menacing glare.

“Damn. I don’t think he likes me very much.” We laugh softly as Alejandro walks away.

I take a sip of my martini and shrug. “He’s just protective of me. Brothers can be that way sometimes.”

“Your brother?” A wide grin spreads across his face, somehow delighted by this piece of information.

I nod with a smile. “It’s just been a weird day, and he’s looking out for me.”

“I can see how you’d inspire protective instincts in someone.” He takes a sip from his beer. The stranger’s eyes close briefly as if savoring every second of it that he can, the way someone would after having a long day.

“We don’t even know each other and you’re already making assumptions about me?”

He laughs and nods. “You’re right. So, let’s get to know each other, then.” He leans forward and sticks his hand out, his grin wider still. “The name’s Knox.”

I stare down at his outstretched hand and say nothing.

“This is where you give me your name, Pretty Girl.”

“Pretty Girl?” I snort, but can’t help the goofy grin on my face. The way he smiles, the way his voice wraps around something in my chest, somehow brightens the darkness inside me.

“Carlota. Lottie,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand. The second we make contact, my smile falls and gaze drops to where we’re joined, skin buzzing. I suddenly feel warm and safe, and want to lean into him, inhale the wave of leather and citrus crashing over me. Our hands linger for a moment, relishing in the new comfort. I miss it as soon as we let go.

Through my lashes, I look up at Knox, his eyes widened like he can’t believe what he felt, either.

“Hello, Carlota-Lottie,” he says softly after clearing his throat once. “It’s nice to meet you.”

CHAPTER TWO

KNOX

This girl is amazing.