The first time I met Calen Bryn was at my best friend Laurel's birthday party.

Meeting him was like waking from a long dream. Every sense sharpened to sweet painful precision. Every moment that came before a pale gray memory.

Perhaps I should have stayed home that night.

___________

Laurel and Phil's swanky loft in the North Loop part of downtown could in no way ever be considered small. 

At over 4,000 square feet, it was a stylish industrial design with twenty feet tall ceilings, dark glossy gray cement floors and huge glass windows providing a stunning nighttime view of downtown.

Yet I could feel the familiar cloying sense of claustrophobia circling around me, as certain as it was annoying. Perhaps it was the stifling amount of people in the room. Or the avalanche of shiny champagne rose gold decorations cascading down the walls. Even the loud music blasting from speakers had begun to feel a cage closing me in with its heavy thumping bass bars.

I clenched my hand around my water bottle. The crackling plastic felt as brittle as my composure. Tonight was Laurel's birthday party and she was my best friend. If it had been anyone else, I would have already been curling into a ball in the corner, hyperventilating, and rocking back and forth.

I'm fine. I'm completely fine.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on loosening my white-knuckled death grip from my poor water bottle. Sternly, I told my brain there was no reason to panic. The walls were not shrinking in on me.

It seemed to work for a bit. Hoping for the best, I took a swig of the water and stared past the crowd of dancing people out to the wide open glittering skyline beyond the windows.

Despite my efforts, another wave of nausea surged over me. My vision grew dark and fuzzy at the edges, just enough to make me wobble. Hopefully anyone who saw me would assume I was just drunk.

My eyes snagged upon the patio doors just as a fine mist of sweat broke out upon my brow. It was time to make a quick escape and hide out until the claustrophobia subsided. The last thing I needed was to make a scene on Laurel's birthday.

Before things got worse, I left my perch at the kitchen island and headed toward the patio doors. It felt like trying to complete an impossibly complex and long obstacle course, navigating around gyrating groups of drunk dancing people and far too many large gold and pink confetti-filled balloons with streamers fluttering everywhere.

I shuddered in relief when I reached the patio doors. Quickly, I slipped outside and shut them behind me. Tilting my head back, I gulped in the cool late summer air. The open night sky above me eased back the sensation of walls closing in. Thankfully, the fuzzy edges of my vision began to dissipate along with the nausea.

For a moment, I simply enjoyed the feeling of openness and space. Their condo was on the penthouse level and one of the perks was having this huge gorgeous patio that was nearly the same size as most other people's apartments. Even better, their patio had a set of private access stairs leading up a level to the most amazing rooftop terrace in all of downtown Minneapolis.

Once I felt better, I glanced back through the patio doors at the happy scene inside, trying to weigh the pros and cons of going back to the party right away. One one hand, I didn't want to miss Laurel's birthday party completely. On the other hand, I also didn't want to have another attack. And though it had subsided enough for me to feel almost normal again, there were still lingering echoes of claustrophobia lurking in the corners of my mind.

A loud burst of obnoxious laughter from a group of men inside, one in particular, made my eyes twitch. Going back inside suddenly seemed like the worst possible idea.

Spinning around, I headed for stairs leading to the roof terrace. At that moment, even the patio seemed too small right now. I needed to be somewhere else; somewhere without walls and nothing but endless sky above me.

I climbed the dark stairs and stepped onto the rooftop terrace. The night sky opened around me, as wide and vast as the universe, and the last trace of anxiety faded from my veins.

Now that I could finally think clearly again, I felt a trickle of guilt that I wasn't at my best friend's party and instead was hiding out like some kind of loser. Debating, I glanced at my cell phone to check the time. Phil had told me that he was bringing the birthday cake around midnight. Since it was barely eleven o'clock, there was plenty of time to hide out and make sure I was fully recovered before returning to sing her birthday song.

Dropping onto one of the loungers scattered across the terrace, I leaned back with a sigh and stared up at the clear night sky. Something tightly knotted inside my chest seemed to ease at the sight of the endless expanse of darkness. It shone like a black crystal ocean, radiant with bright shimmering stars.

Drowsiness settling over me, I slipped off my shoes and closed my eyes.

* * *

I wasn't sure how much time had passed. It seemed that I had barely closed my eyes when some sixth sense alerted me that I was no longer alone. From somewhere behind me, I heard the quiet tread of footsteps

Groggily, I squinted up at the sky and saw that clouds had crept in while I was sleeping. The few stars remaining were much fainter than I remembered, almost nonexistent. How much time had passed?

A voice came out of the darkness, causing me to turn around sharply.

"Am I intruding?" The words were innocuous, normal for the situation. Yet the low rich masculine tenor tone made my senses prickle.

When I didn't respond, the stranger added, "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"It's fine, I was just leaving." I said stiffly, pasting a polite smile on my face although it was too dim to make out anything more than a faint silhouette.

"Please don't leave on my account." This time, there was a thin line of amusement running through his velvety voice like a taut silken thread.

"Really, it's okay. I should get going." I said and squinted, trying to make out the stranger's face. Was he laughing at me? Not that I cared.

Though I couldn't see his face, his figure grew more distinct. Lean and broad shouldered, his tall shadowy form moved with sinuous grace as he drew closer to me.

Feeling far too vulnerable in my half reclined position on the lounger, I stood up, shifting my shoulders to relieve the stiffness in those muscles.

Sooner than I expected, he was suddenly only a few feet away. I fought the urge to take a step back, unsure why his presence was making me feel so off kilter.

"I'm Calen." He made the introduction smoothly, seemingly unaware of my agitation. For which I was grateful because I couldn't explain what it was that I was feeling. Etiquette demanded that I offer my own name in response but I was reluctant to do so.

As the seconds passed, a soft breeze stirred, brushing up against me like a curious kitten. Before it became too awkward, I forced myself to respond.

"Nice to meet you Calen, I'm--" I stopped, the words catching in my throat as an incredible scent suddenly inundated me.

All around me, the crisp night was suddenly a sensory feast, delicious and sensuous, redolent with an intoxicating blend of rich expensive cigars, exotic sandalwood and bergamot.

A vicious flush of heat suddenly surged in my blood, taking me by surprise. The response was wholly unexpected and unwelcome. Even before I had married Luke, it was rare that my mind or body strayed very far from the neat and tidy path set before it.

Staying silent, I struggled grimly to regain my composure.

He came closer, entangling me deeper in the warmth of his cologne and scent. The heat inside me rose in tandem, making it hard to think.

"Are you okay?" His low musical voice only served to heighten my already exposed nerves. My stomach tightened with an odd helpless feeling, fluttering like a moth fascinated by the same flame drawing it to its death.

"I'm fine!" The words came out more forcefully than I had intended. I breathed slowly, trying to calm my hammering heart. "Just a little chilled. I really need to get back to Laurel's birthday party."

"Ah, I see." His voice became thoughtful. "You're Emma, Laurel's friend."

I nodded, sparing a brief moment to wonder how he had known my name. As if he could read my mind, he answered.

"Phil and Laurel asked me to come find you. It's time for the birthday cake. They were worried because you hadn't responded to any of their texts."

Reality came crashing down on me, knocking me free of the strange thrall that the stranger had cast over me. In panic, I glanced at my phone and groaned silently when I saw it was five minutes past midnight.

"Oh god, I'm late! So late!" I whispered.

Fumbling to get my shoes on, I started to run towards the stairs. In darkness and in my haste, I forgot that the lounger I had been laying on was directly in front of me.

With a resounding crash, I ran right into it. I probably would have caused myself serious injury except that in one smooth motion, Calen was there to catch me.

As neatly as you pleased, he plucked me out of my freefall, an immovable rock bracing me securely despite my flailing limbs. Instinctively I grasped his arms, trying to stay upright. Beneath my fingertips I could feel soft cashmere and powerful muscles moving like malleable steel underneath the luxurious material.

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

"I'm fine." I lied. "Except maybe for my pride. That was embarrassingly clumsy of me."

"Did you know that is what the white Rabbit says when he meets Alice for the first time?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion, temporarily distracted from the realization that he was still holding me. And that this close, the delicious scent of his cologne was even more provocative.

"Alice in Wonderland." He gave a light laugh. Then, without missing a beat, he quoted, "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say hello goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"

"I am late." I shook my head. "Which is why this conversation is really very weird and I should get going."

"Weird conversations are the best, don't you think? No?" Amusement danced in his voice. "You know, if you're the white rabbit, that would make me Alice in this version of the story."

"Well, the white rabbit is late and needs to get going." I tapped his arm briskly, reminding him that he was still holding me.

"So it seems." He slowly released me, making sure I was steady before completely letting go.

Feeling more like myself now that he was no longer touching me, I straightened my clothes. 

"Thank you for helping me." I told him. Then, lips twitching despite myself, I added, "And though I do probably resemble a frazzled white rabbit right now, I highly doubt you'd ever pass for an Alice."

"Why not?" He murmured, sounding distracted. "Though my night vision isn't bad, it's too dark for you to properly see me. For all you know, I could very well indeed look just like a girl."

"Doubtful." I finally allowed myself to laugh, glad that the tension of the last few minutes was finally dissipating. "But if your night vision is better than mine, do you mind leading the way back to the stairs so that I don't accidentally get killed by another chair? I think Laurel would appreciate the chance to kill me herself for being so late."

He didn't respond. Wondering if he was annoyed at my request for help, I looked up to see if I could discern anything from his expression.

In that moment, the damn moon finally chose to break free of the clouds. A pale silvery light spun over his features, bringing them to sudden brilliant clarity.

Calen was beautiful. Heartbreakingly, unbelievably so.

Bathed in cool pale moonlight, those elegantly sculpted features  held an almost Fae cast, as if he were not quite of this world. High masculine cheekbones cut sharp intriguing shadows in the hollows below. Slashing raven brows, thick silky ebony hair, the soft lushness a stark contrast against the hard curve of his jaw.

As the silence stretched, the corners of his lips slowly curled into a faint smile, drawing my eyes. His mouth was that of a fallen angel, sumptuous, sullen and wicked. A flush of heat darted deep and low in my body, so swiftly that I couldn't hide my reaction.

That, more than anything, horrified me enough that I was able to finally yank my attention away from his lips and meet his eyes in an attempt to pull myself together. That turned out to be a mistake. The moment I stared into his eyes, I felt something shatter and break inside of me.

It wasn't just that his eyes were just as divinely beautiful as his face. Or that they were a true cerulean blue, vivid as the Aegean Sea. If anything, they were too frighteningly knowing, gazing at me with a cool, hungry, and capricious intelligence; a stark contrast to the lush decadent blue depths. Yet something within them drew me regardless; the promise of complex layers and secrets, inviting me to sink into those mysteries as seductively as a siren song.

A strange kind of madness came over me then and as inappropriate as it was, I did not stop staring. Eyes narrowing, he stared back, tilting his head as if I were a curious object that he was trying to figure out.  A hard hungry edge widening his smile, he raised a brown as if in challenge.

Throwing caution to the wind, I met the challenge with mindless abandon. Lifting a trembling hand, I touched his clenched jaw. The rough hint of stubble rasped deliciously against my palm. When he didn't stop me, I grew bolder, using my fingers to trace a path path over to his lips. There I paused, the blood in my veins a roaring inferno now as I felt the sullen curves of that wicked smile under my fingertips.

Eyes darkening, he suddenly reached up and caught my fingers. He held them for a breathless second, before gently pulling them away from his lips.

"What are you doing?" He asked, voice like silk over gravel.

I stared at him, uncomprehendingly, knowing only that my fingertips ached to return to the satiny heat of his lips.

He gave a short sigh, releasing my hands. He turned his head away from me, lips curling into a dark mirthless smirk.

"Well, now that you've seen my face, little rabbit, has your opinion of me changed?"

"My opinion?" I asked blankly.

"Do I look like an Alice after all?"

Confused by the odd question, I shook my head. Finally, the fog lifted from my brain and reality rushed back in.

"Oh my god." I breathed in quiet horror. "I'm so sorry! Oh my god. I didn't mean to touch your—your mouth."

His eyes flickered back over to me but I quickly averted mine. Not only because I was embarrassed beyond words, but also because I didn't trust my ability to resist them at the moment.

"Are you saying that you touched my lips by accident?" The hint of mockery in his beautiful voice made me cringe even more. My face heated in shame.

"I need to go." I said roughly, avoiding his question.

"You're avoiding my question." He said, echoing my thoughts.

"I don't care." I said and began walking as fast as I dared across the rooftop terrace.

The moon had partially disappeared behind some clouds again but there was enough light for me to safely avoid the dark shapes of the furniture scattered about.

Before I had gone more than two steps, he spoke. "Wait."

I shook my head and limped faster. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he was standing before me and holding something out in one hand. I paused, about to protest, then saw that it was my cell phone.

I grabbed it out of his hand. "Thank you." My voice was stiff. "Again, I'm sorry for...earlier. Like I said, it was an accident."

"I don't accept the apology." His voice grew silky, dangerous. "Especially one based on a half-assed lie."

Unable to stop myself, I turned to look at him in disbelief.

"I've apologized twice now." I said tersely. "What else do you want from me?"

He tilted his head, features shadowed and eyes gleaming like a cat's in the moonlight. Again, that tingling sensation of caution came over me. With an effort, I wrenched my gaze away and started walking again.

"Are you here with someone?" His voice was soft, yet there was a strange tension to the words. As if he was asking for something else much more complex than what his words implied.

"Yes." I said, raising my chin, glad that he couldn't see how red my face was in the dimness. "I'm here with Luke. My husband."

He stilled. "You're married." It could have been my imagination, but his voice was colder, flat.

"Yes, I could introduce you once we get back if you'd like." I said shortly, knowing I was being a jerk. Unable to stand myself any longer, I turned and continued to the stairs. 

I couldn't hear him following, but when I reached the patio doors again, he was right next to me. Silently, he reached out to open them, then paused, eyes flickering over to me. I stared back, waiting.

"Emma." He said my name contemplatively.

I stared back, waiting. A self-deprecating glint in his eyes, he inclined his head.

"Maybe we started off on the wrong foot. Would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow?"

There was no pressure in those words, but it still pushed whatever breath I had left out of me.

"Look Calen. I'm married." I said harshly. "I know I acted inappropriately up there and I wish I could explain what happened, but I can't. All I can tell you is that I have never acted that way before and I don't intend to ever again."

He gave a strained smile. "I didn't mean it like that. Forgive me."

My shoulders slumped. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness."

"Do you think friendship could be possible?" He asked, an indecipherable emotion flickering for a brief moment in those blue depths.

"Why?" I asked roughly. "It doesn't make any sense. We don't even know each other."

"I don't know, Emma. I wish I did." He gave a mocking laugh, but it sounded self directed.

Deep inside, I felt that shattering sensation again. Not trusting myself to speak, I opened the patio doors. Without looking at him, I walked inside.

I found Laurel and apologized profusely to her and blamed my claustrophobia for everything. That wasn't the full truth but it was enough for now. Of course she forgave me because of the kind of friend she was.

After Laurel blew out her birthday candles and made her wish, she started opening gifts.

As for Calen, I kept my distance from him the rest of the night. It wasn't difficult. He had been inundated with admirers the moment he stepped inside. Everyone seemed drawn to him; women watching him with bright avarice filled eyes, men slapping him on his broad shoulders as if he was their best bud. Even Luke seemed to like the guy.

I managed to pretend everything had settled back to normal, at least until Luke and I were leaving. For a brief moment while Luke was saying goodbye to Phil and Laurel, I looked up and saw Calen talking to someone next to them. As if sensing my gaze, he turned slightly, lashes lowering as his eyes flashed in my direction.

He glanced from me to Luke, the muscles in his jaws tightening.  When he looked back at me, something dark and deliberate flickered in his eyes. Numbly, I turned away, returning Laurel's hug and promising her I'd go to lunch with her the next weekend.

I was silent in the car ride home, focused on ignoring the whirling emotions simmering inside of me. Thankfully Luke didn't notice anything. The moment we sat inside the cab, he passed out and started snoring. 

It took me a long time to fall asleep that night. Once I did, my dreams were restless, haunted by visions of endless cerulean oceans that were as beautiful as they were terrifying.