"Not that old chestnut." Sinclair smirks.
"Speak for yourself, married motherfucker." I scowl.
"Married and soon to be a father," Sinclair declares.
There’s silence, then Damian slaps him on the back.
Weston grips his shoulder. "Congratulations, bro!”
A hot sensation stabs in my chest. What the hell? Why am I jealous of what he has? I made a choice, remember? Besides, I’d never be safe with any woman. Remember what happened just last night?
I reach forward, hold out my hand and Sinclair shakes it. "Congratulations," I mutter. "I am happy for you."
Sinclair grins, and that throws me. Jesus, in all the time I’ve known him since the incident, he’s never seemed this happy. Is that what being married to the right woman does to you? Makes you more human?
Can I afford to be more human? Can I allow myself to feel the gamut of emotions that comes with being with the right woman? Hell, I know the answer to that. I may have found her, but I am not right for her. I can’t jeopardize her safety any more than I already have. I need to stick to my promise, ensure that she is okay, keep her safe until Edward returns.
I turn, head for the shower. "Give me five minutes."
"It’s not that I’m a social recluse and never had any friends. And it's true that sometimes I prefer staying home on a Friday night with a good book and a hot chocolate; that doesn’t mean that the only reason that I had imaginary friends was because I felt lonely..."
-From Ava's Diary
Ava
"So, you’re a dancer?"
The man on the other side of the table leans forward. His gaze takes me in and his eyes light up appreciatively.
"Uh, yeah. I am a dance instructor and I also have set pieces I perform at events, and on stage."
"Unusual profession."
"Nothing wrong with being a dancer," I say stiffly.
"Of course, not." He holds up his hands. "It was just a comment. I am sorry if I offended you."
I blow out a breath.Come on, you can try to be civil. It’s not his fault that he’s not Baron…or Edward.I shake my head, tip up my chin.
"And you?" I frown into his muddy brown eyes. "What do you do again, Calvin?"
"It’s Kevin." He frowns.
"Kevin," I correct myself, "sorry. You said you work in an office, right?" Not that I remember, but what are the chances he doesn’t.
"Actually, I am a fireman."
"A fireman?" I glance at him closely. His dark hair is pushed back from his face, his eyes are intelligent, his chin shaved, and he’s wearing a shirt, that outlines the breadth of his shoulders which, although not as impressive as Baron’s (or Edward’s),are decent enough to indicate that he does not, in fact, spend all of his time behind a desk.
"So, you fight fires?" I murmur.
"That’s what firemen are known to do, yes." He grins and his eyes twinkle. Actually, they are not a muddy brown as much as a gray brown. Nowhere near the amber of another man. A man whom I had met and lost in such a short period of time that I am beginning to wonder if he’d been a figment of my imagination. Then I look at Baron and I know he isn’t. Baron’s a reminder of the Seven, and that includes Edward…
So yeah, he’d definitely been real. I only have to tune into my body to remember how he’d possessed me. How he’d taken me and imprinted himself into every cell of my body in such a short period of time. I squeeze my finger around the stem of my wine glass so hard that the ruby red liquid spills out. The stain blots the white table cloth and I swallow. Tears prick the backs of my eyes. Damn it, what is wrong with me, that such a small incident is pushing me over the edge? Bloody Baron. It’s all his fault that I am strung so tight. It’s because of him that I am here, faking interest in a man—who, to be honest, isn’t all that bad looking, or boring, coming to think of it. He isn’t Edward or Baron, though.
"You okay?" His voice cuts through my thoughts.
I glance up at him and shake my head. "Yeah, sorry, been a long few days."
