Feels Like the First Time. Tawny Weber

reflected in those bottle-green depths. And right now the reflection was an interesting mix of irritation and intrigue. He’d like to think the intrigue was a little sexual, a hint of interest in him. But even though he’d made a fortune with his imagination, Dex wasn’t the kind of guy who lied to himself.

      More likely, she was trying to figure out why the hell, at his age, he was apparently still working at his parents’ hotel. Dex winced. This wasn’t how he’d planned to greet her for the first time. He’d hoped to make it a surprise. Preferably when she was alone instead of surrounded by a gaggle of giggling women who reminded him of overaged teenagers. Maybe when he was dressed decently, and not, he grimaced with a glance at his jeans, like one of those overaged teens himself.

      Regardless of timing, Dex couldn’t stop his grin. All he’d been able to think about for the past couple weeks was seeing Zoe again. And there she was. While he’d have recognized her trademark dimple and sassy head tilt anywhere, the rest of her was a delicious surprise.

      Sleek and sexy, she wasn’t Goth anymore, but her rebellious individuality was still apparent. No longer short, spiky and pitch-black, her hair hit her shoulders in a cacophony of curls and chunky streaks of color. Red, blond and, yeah, he was happy to see, still some black. She’d lost the roundness that ten years ago she’d lamented and he’d secretly loved. Her black top fell in a straight line to her thighs, but didn’t disguise the swell of her breasts or the indention of her waist. A stack of thick silver bangles clanged on her wrist every time she moved her arm, matching metal glinting from her ears.

      Just as Dex raised his hand to wave to her, she gave him one last, long glance. Then she turned away. He frowned. What was up with that? He caught his own reflection in the large mirror behind the registration desk and realized that as much as she’d changed, so had he.

      Ten years ago, he’d been a foot shorter, built like a noodle and worn glasses. Laser eye surgery, a good workout program and the discovery of protein had definitely had their effects on his body.

      Cool. He could still surprise her. With that in mind, Dex worked his way around the lobby. He positioned himself between the clucking clutch of women and Zoe’s probable escape route so he could step out and greet her once she headed for her room. He kicked back against one of the rosewood columns, crossed his ankles and arms and let loose a grin. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw him.

      A year younger that Zoe, Dex had taken a lot of advanced classes with her. Brainiacs like them tended to band together. But she’d never seen him as more than a sidekick. A younger buddy. Funny, safe and sexless. Emasculating, yes, but still better than the rest of his schoolmates, who usually saw him only as a wallet or the keys to the best party house in town.

      After Zoe had graduated and left town, Dex had lost all interest in Central High and had counted the days until his own graduation. A scholarship to MIT had been his ticket away from the memories of his unrequited crush and out from under his father’s ever-unfulfilled demands. College, life and a little bit of luck had healed his bruised heart. But he’d never forgotten Zoe. And now was his chance to reconnect, hopefully on equal footing this round.

      He heard one of the ditzy chicks ask, “So, who are you looking forward to seeing again, Zoe?”

      His ears, among other things, perked up. He’d love to hear her say his name. Crazy wish, since he wasn’t even a member of her graduating class and she’d have no reason to expect him here. But the seventeen-year-old in his heart still wished just a little.

      “Oh, you know, everyone,” Zoe hedged. Dex snickered. He knew better than anyone what a lie that was. They’d spent hours on end holed up here at the hotel, raiding the kitchen and lamenting the nastiness of their peers.

      “C’mon, there must be someone you’re looking forward to seeing again,” one of the women nudged. “Maybe Brad?”

      Dex shot upright, peering around the column to frown at Zoe’s face. Brad? Brad Young? That ass? With an ugly surge of jealousy, Dex remembered Zoe’s crush on the blond jock. Unlike the typical jock, Brad hadn’t been an idiot. Just a jerk. He and Dex had gone head to head in all things science. And usually, Dex remembered with a snicker, he’d won.

      “Maybe,” Zoe said with a shrug. Resentment momentarily forgotten, Dex watched the way the soft black fabric of her top moved. Touchably soft, the material emphasized her round breasts. He’d spent years dreaming about those breasts. Lusting as only a callow, teenage boy could. And she’d been lusting after Brad the cad.

      Dex ground his teeth. If her questions were anything to go by, she still was.

      “Actually, it sounds like Brad’s done really well for himself,” she said in the offhand tone that people used to pretend they don’t care. “But Julie mentioned nobody’s sure how. Sounds like a mystery. Anybody have a clue?”

      She asked the question with the enthusiasm and verve that’d always inspired him to crazy acts. Like TPing the science hall, letting the air out of the tires of the entire track team’s vehicles and rigging the microphones so everybody on the debate team had sounded like Donald Duck.

      “I hear it was the stock market. He pulled out just before Wall Street tanked last year,” one of the redheads said.

      “Are you sure?” the one who looked just like her asked. “I heard he’s doing something creative with his degree in computer science. Writing or something like that.”

      “No, no, no,” interrupted the third woman. “He inherited a pile of money from his great-granddad.”

      The three women compared gossip sources while Zoe watched, transfixed, as if the answer to Brad’s success meant world peace and calorie-free chocolate.

      Dex shoved his fists in his pockets and kicked at the pillar. After all these years, all the crap the guy had done to her, she still wanted to see Brad? Didn’t she ever learn?

      Hell, didn’t he? When his mom had told him Zoe’s class was holding its reunion at the hotel, he’d been intrigued. When she’d mentioned Zoe had booked a room, he hadn’t been able to resist a trip home. Even if it meant facing his dad’s nagging that, instead of starting his own business, he invest all his savings in the Drake, and his mom’s lamenting that he was ruining his life by quitting his well-paying job as a video-game designer and going out on his own. Using one of his hard-learned lessons from high school, he’d dealt with their negativity by throwing money toward a fancy vacation for them and sending them packing with the assurance that he’d take care of the hotel while they were away.

      Anything for a chance to hang out with his best friend again. And yeah, he admitted to himself, a chance to nurture that tiny hope that he and Zoe might be a little more than friends this time. He imagined the two of them, cuddled up in the tree house back behind the inn property where they’d planned so many teenage escapades. In his imagination, Zoe’s sweet body was naked as she poised over him calling him big boy and urging him to new heights of pleasure.

      Who said you couldn’t go back in time? Dex grinned. Five minutes in her presence and he was already fantasizing like a seventeen-year-old again.

      “I was surprised that careers and bios weren’t listed in the reunion program,” Zoe said, pulling his attention back to the giggling group. “I mean, isn’t everyone here to catch up on what everyone else has done? I’d think Brad’s success would be the talk of the reunion.”

      His hope—among other things—shriveled at her words.

      “I’m on the reunion committee,” the blond lady said importantly. “We wanted to make this fun, involve everyone in a game or two. You know, like ‘guess the careers.’ That’s why we decided to kick things off tonight with the costume party. It’s all a part of the theme. Didn’t you read your welcome package? You’re supposed to give hints, but keep your actual career a secret. On Wednesday, we’ll play the match game and everyone can share then.”

      “Lovely,” Zoe said tonelessly, her smile strained. “Was that supposed to tie in somehow to our costume? The whole career angle?”