No.
Absolutely, no.
The moment I turned to face him, everything came rushing back. The memory of our night together, and everything that happened afterwards. I’m not quite sure how he found me or why he wants to talk to me, but this can’t be how my night is really going to end.
I mean… Why is he here? What is his motive? How has he not aged a day? Shit… he looks amazing… and he smells so damn good. The scent of red cedar and ash wafts towards me with every step he takes, invading my senses and trying to force me to comply. Every part of me wants to jump into his arms and hug him while the other part of me wants to slap him.
Is he here with his wife?
Why does that thought feel like betrayal? He owes me nothing. I need to get over that night; it’s been seventeen years. “So can we?"
That voice still sends a shiver through my body. His face is a mask, other than the smirk on his lips. The same smirk that drove me mental so many years ago and pisses me off at the same time.