Destiny's Delta - Becca Jameson Page 0,1

but he looked just the same. Tall, broad, built. His muscles bulged under his white T-shirt. The shirt could stand to be at least a size larger, but maybe he liked it tight. It certainly attracted attention. The bottom half of his tattoo peeked out beneath a short sleeve. She’d seen it many times. As far as Destiny knew, that was the only tattoo he had. Unless he’d added some ink since she’d last seen his naked chest.

She groaned at the thought of that vision, shook her head again, and reached for another shot. If her friends weren’t going to join her, she’d drink them herself. She tipped that one back and slammed the glass down on the table a bit harder than necessary.

“Des? Maybe you should slow down a bit,” Libby suggested. “We could go back to the hotel. Hang out, just the five of us. It would be quieter, anyway. We could order pizza and watch an old movie.”

Destiny smiled at the friend to her left. Libby tucked a thick lock of dark, wavy hair behind her ear and forced a smile. Her flawless dark skin, a result of her Guatemalan heritage, made all of them envious. She was currently holding Destiny’s gaze without flinching.

Destiny pursed her lips and inhaled through her nose. After a few seconds, she released the breath through her mouth. “Nope. I’m good.”

Shayla nudged Destiny playfully from her other side, her pin-straight, black hair swaying over both their shoulders. “He’s probably not half as amazing as your mind has turned him into over the years, anyway. After all, you said you haven’t had a full conversation with him in over ten years. Maybe he’s an asshole. Maybe he’s slept with a woman in every port.”

“He’s not in the Navy,” Christa teased. She rolled her eyes at Shayla and giggled, the dimples on her pale cheeks showing. She was the lightest of the five of them. No. That was an understatement. Her skin was so pale that she burned just thinking about the sun. Her blond hair was natural and almost white, her eyes a pale blue.

“Every desert then,” Shayla joked. “Whatever. That’s not the point.”

Destiny tipped back a third shot and tuned her friends out, her gaze wandering toward Trent’s back again. She didn’t believe it. There was no way he had turned into some womanizing dick. It wasn’t in his blood. No matter what life had tossed at him, Destiny knew he would remain the same guy she’d known most of her life. Kind. Funny. Laughing. Light. The fun guy. Always saw the best in people. An extrovert.

God, she missed him.

She missed the way he’d teased her, even when they were in Kindergarten. She missed the way he said her name. He was the first person to give her the nickname Des long before anyone else started calling her that, and no one had ever said it quite the way he did. Like a long syllable. Softly spoken. Even when they were kids, he would hold her gaze as he whispered her name. More so in high school, up until she started dating his twin, Sean.

Destiny shuddered at the memory. Those days were long gone. In the past. Another lifetime.

Suddenly, as if he sensed someone staring at him, Trent turned around. His gaze quickly scanned the area until it landed on hers.

She should have glanced away before he caught her looking, but she couldn’t. She was drawn to him like a magnet, unable to move or breathe as the clock ticked but time stood still. She wasn’t sure how long they stared at each other, but finally, he smiled, whispered something to the guy next to him, and headed her direction.

“Shit.” Destiny gripped the table again. The room was swaying a bit. She should not have done that many shots.

Her friends glanced back and forth between her and Trent, murmuring under their collective breaths. “Uh-oh,” one of them whispered.

“This is not going to go well,” Libby stated.

When Trent finally reached their booth, he seemed even larger than she remembered, looming over the five of them. Broader. More muscular. He probably was. Hell, he probably worked out ten hours a day.

“Des.”

She shivered at the sound of his voice, the way he spoke her name just as he always had. Reverently. As if she were royalty or something. Her body responded to his tone also, her nipples stiffening, her pussy clenching.

This—this reaction to just her name from his lips—this was why she’d chosen to avoid