Page 24 of Entangled

All over, unnecessarily, completely jealous. And fuck, it looked good on him. Like every other goddamn expression he wore, from his indifference to his rage, to his sweetness in the mornings, and the way he looked when he fucked her. It all looked damn good.

She had just spent a little more than an hour with a man who was everything that Gian was not, in certain ways. She hadn’t managed to feel anything for him, not even an ounce of the confusing mess she felt with just a glance at Gian Guzzi.

How was that fair?

She should be over this ridiculous mess by now.

Even Gian had told her that she would be fine—that she was the kind of woman who could fall again and again, yet manage to brush herself off and move on with her life. Yet, there she was, not moving the fuck on.

Frustrated, Cara turned away from Gian, refusing to meet his stare again or acknowledge his presence. She had gone months without running into him in the city, and now, in a matter of just a couple of weeks, she had run into him twice.

Someone from up above was laughing at her. Clearly, she had no guardian angels looking out for her.

She snatched up the glass of ice water when the bartender finally brought her the drink, and took a sip. Maybe, if she just pretended like she hadn’t noticed Gian twenty feet away, he would opt to go the same route she did.

Cara hoped for too much.

Just as she finished her water and slid the glass back across the bar, she felt his presence slip in behind her. It was fucking crazy and stupid and intense how that worked. The very fact that he didn’t even need to speak, or make a noise, and she just knew.

Knew that he was there.

Knew that he was looking at her.

Knew him.

“Are you going to corner me somewhere and make me talk again?” Cara asked without turning around.

“No,” Gian said, his voice a rough murmur.

“Good, because I’m about to leave.”

“Is your date waiting outside?”

“That’s none of your business,” Cara replied.

“Maybe not, but I asked, Cara.”

She turned slowly to face Gian, taking note that he still seemed a hell of lot more tense than he normally did. Even with his hands shoved in his pockets, she could still see his unease in his narrowed gaze and tight jaw.

“You have no business asking anything,” Cara reminded him.

Gian’s jaw ticked. “So you don’t want to answer, then?”

“There’s nothing to tell, and you don’t get to ask.”

“I—”

“Don’t you have a guest at your table?” she interrupted, her annoyance rising fast.

“It was over ten minutes ago, but it took him this long to realize I wasn’t interested in the conversation he was offering. Enough about me, let’s get back to you.”

Cara bristled. “Excuse me?”

“Who was that man?”

“None of your bus—”

“Cara.” The quiet way he said her name, so heavy and thick, made her back straighten as a shiver crawled up her spine. Damn him. Gian took one step closer to Cara, ensuring she couldn’t move, as she was backed into the goddamn bar. “At least tell me who he is, that’s all.”