Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

“So do you,” I said, taking in her pale pink dress that complemented her blond hair and blue eyes. “Can you believe that? One of them even had on a wedding ring. Seriously? Men can be pigs.”

“Truth,” Melissa said, pulling away from the curb.

“So, where’s your party being held?” I asked, feeling like a complete ass that I just now thought to ask.

“It’s in an old warehouse that they refaced last year. It’s now the happening place to have parties. Rob does business for the owner, so we were able to get it for a steal.”

“That’s awesome,” I said, watching the sights out the window as we drove. It was hard not to think about how much I loved and missed this city. Even though I had thrown a wrench in Rob’s questioning earlier, I had been unable to shake his words. Two years ago, I let something drive me away from the one place that had totally resonated with me.

“What do you think?” Melissa asked, pulling into a dirt lot behind a large industrial warehouse.

“Well, it looks like a warehouse,” I said, climbing from the vehicle.

“Don’t be a baby. The transformation is on the inside.”

“I know,” I laughed. “I’m just kidding. It looks great.”

Melissa nodded, leading me to the oversized door that was standing wide open. We entered the dim space together and I was instantly taken. The interior was rugged and chic at the same time. There was a stage set back in the far corner of the building. A large glazed concrete dance floor sat directly in front of it, bordered with high tables and plush bar stools. The floor surrounding the dance area was a rich dark wood that had been polished to a high shine. The opposite side of the building held low couches grouped together to form intimate seating areas away from the music. The overall feel of the space screamed classy. What drew me in the most were the interior walls. I marveled at the intricate artwork painted across the entire room.

“He’s phenomenal, huh?” Melissa asked, following my gaze along the painted wall. Her question left no doubt that Justin was the artist behind the masterpiece I was viewing.

“He always has been,” I answered, turning as the guys entered through a set of swinging doors that were hidden on the far side of the room.

Rob let out a low whistle when he saw Melissa. “Babe, you look great,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her in for a long kiss.

“So, the grunt labor was worth it while I got beautified?” I heard her murmur as he sealed his lips to hers again.

“You look beautiful,” Justin said to me.

“Thank you,” I answered, feeling my face blush. It had been so long since he looked at me this way, and yet it felt like not a single day had passed. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” I answered, taking in the well-cut suit he was wearing.

“This old thing?” he joked, leading me to the bar, where several cocktail waitresses were making last-minute preparations.

I snorted. “Old, my foot,” I said, looking up at him with a smile that faltered when I saw the pained expression on his face. I immediately regretted dropping my guard. We were forging a tentative friendship, but it seemed we had a long road ahead.

I turned away to gather myself while I asked the bartender for my favorite cocktail, hoping to settle my nerves.

I could hear Justin clearing his throat like he had a tickle before he broke the silence. “Is that dress backless?” he choked out.

Accepting my drink from the bartender, I raised it to my lips, which were curved in a satisfied smile. Any doubts I might have had about the dress were put to rest. “Is that wrong?” I replied, taking another sip of my drink.

“Depends how many guys you’re trying to send to the hospital for heart failure tonight,” he said, ordering a scotch neat.

“It’s really pretty modest,” I pointed out, turning to look at him.

“If that’s what you call modest, I’d love to see your version of pretentious,” he stated, taking a long drink.

“Are you hitting on me?” I asked as the alcohol loosened my tongue. We were both playing with fire, but I didn’t care. The truce we had established the day before seemed to give us the permission to pick up where we left off two years ago, before our relationship had gone to hell.

“Would that be a problem?” he asked, taking my elbow and guiding me toward one of the intimate seating sections.

“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly, lowering myself to one of the sofas. “People will probably think we’re crazy, and my friend Tressa would most likely have serious issues with it.”

“Do you care what they think?” he asked quietly, taking another drink of his scotch.

“They’re just looking out for me. Especially Tressa. She knows how rough these last two years have been.”

He nodded, contemplating my words. I couldn’t help wondering if my candidness would scare him off. For a brief moment, I panicked and wished I could retract what I had said, but rightfully, secrets and misunderstandings had torn us apart before. It was time to put those days behind us and start with honesty.