In fact, it might be a good idea to grab a few chips and pretzels, something to soak up the alcohol before any more of it goes to my head. And if I slip outside onto the deck, I can cut around to the other side of the apartment to the snack table without setting foot on the dance floor. I’m having fun, but no way am I ready to get any closer to that unholy territory.
Kitty’s still deep in conversation, so I ease around a group of guys discussing the last Falcons’ game, and head for the glass door leading out onto the deck.
The apartment isn’t huge, and Kitty will be able to find me if she needs me.
I step outside and pause, pulling in a deep breath of cold, head-clearing air, before turning and plowing face-first into a brick wall.
No, not a brick wall, I realize as I stumble backward.
A guy built like a brick wall.
A guy with a pretty nice face to match all those muscles, too.
Hmm…things might be looking up on the New Year’s kissing front.
Chapter Three
Faith
The man’s heavily-muscled chest completely fills my vision, blocking my view of the people behind him.
“Sorry.” I tilt my head back to get a better look at the wall’s head.
It’s a decent head, with blue eyes, a strong jaw, and several eyebrow piercings.
Or is that several eyebrows?
I squint, relieved to find the man possesses the normal number of eyebrows—two—and a mere three piercings.
Good. I’m not that tipsy.
“No worries, I’m Trent.” He extends a hand.
I let my eyes roam a little more as we shake. His arms are covered in tattoos that wind around and around his forearms before disappearing beneath the pushed-up sleeves of his black sweater. He’s definitely a gym rat—you don’t get muscles that defined without a lot of work—and somehow manages to exude swagger, even while standing still.
In other words, he’s exactly the type of guy I’m looking for.
Our chance meeting should make me happy. Instead, my stomach sinks and my throat clenches. Which is ridiculous.
Trent is perfectly good-looking. He has a great smile, seems polite, and even smells nice. But upon closer inspection, something about him turns me off.
Probably the fact that he’s not Mick Whitehouse.
“I’m Faith.” I tighten my grip on his hand and force a smile, determined not to think about names that start with “M.” I’ve done enough of that the past two weeks. The whole point in coming to this party was to move on and quit obsessing, for God’s sake.
“Faith. That sounds familiar. Have we met before?” He holds my hand a few seconds too long before releasing my fingers, signaling he might think I have a nice smile and smell good, too. “Maybe at the gym?”
“I don’t think so.” I try to be pleased about this mutual interest, but still feel primarily…queasy. “I work out at my job.”
“Maybe Touchdowns? I meet my brother there Sunday afternoons sometimes when I’m in town.”
I wrinkle my nose. “No, sorry. I’ve never been there. I don’t get out much.”
Way to sound interesting, lame ass.
Trent grins. “Me, either. I spend most of my life at the gym or work. I run a bike shop just outside Atlanta.”
“Cool.” I take another sip of my drink, stalling as I try to think of something else to say. “Bikes with spokes or bikes with motors?”
“Spokes,” he says. “But I own a chopper. You ride?”
“I’d like to, but I’ve seen too many motorcycle accidents. I’m with the Bliss River Fire Department and we assist on a lot of those calls. The ones where the person in the car doesn’t see the person on the bike and…bad things ensue?”
He bares his teeth as he sucks in a breath. “Yeah, that’s a problem. I ride mostly in the country, though, and try to be careful. So, you’re an EMT?”
“I’m certified, but primarily I’m a firefighter,” I say, bristling the way I always do when people automatically assume I’m something other than a firewoman. “I carry heavy equipment, hack things apart with axes, throw people over my shoulders when I have to. That sort of thing.”
“Nice,” Trent says, shifting closer. “And hot.”
“Yep. It does get hot sometimes,” I say, masking my nerves with another drink.
He laughs. “No, I mean it’s hot that you do that kind of work. That’s brave and bravery is pretty sexy, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say, wishing I was into this guy because he actually seems cool. Why, oh why, can’t my stupid brain stop thinking about stupid Mick?
Trent advances another step. “Are you here with someone?”
“Um, no?” The words emerge as a question and I wince a little, but Trent doesn’t seem to notice.
“Me, either.” He reaches out, bracing his arm on the wall above my head, the same way Mick did before he kissed me in the gazebo.