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When she arrived at the table, I thought I was seeing a ghost

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When she arrived at the table, I thought I was seeing a ghost. This Cleopatra goddess was the one who got away 19 years ago. My freshman year of college, I had the privilege of deflowering this beauty, and then she ran away. That night was one I will never forget. I just came back from the Croakington house, and there on my bed was she, playing with herself. I should have walked out and closed the door, but once her eyes locked on mine and she continued—I was a goner. I wanted to please her, taste her...

Once I realized she was slightly buzzed, I hesitated and started to put back on my clothes. I wasn't going down for sexual assault. However, little miss goddess had other plans, and that night I fucked her over and over until she was sober—then I fucked her some more. It was the best sex I ever had. No matter how many women I fucked after her, no one compared.

I had football practice early the next morning, so I had to leave, but lord knows I didn't want to. I left a note with my name and number, hoping she would reach out, but that never happened. Nick rarely talked about his friends, and I never pressed the issue because I didn't want to cause problems if he knew what went down that night. I saw that he treated all his female friends as little sisters.

Those problems I didn't want nor need.

The next semester I moved into Croakington, and later on, I found out that she didn't even go here.

"What took you so long?" The guy Jeffery digs his spoon into his dessert.

"I had to check up on something." Damn, even her voice sounds enchanting.

"Well, let me introduce you to my friend, Tristan." Nick introduces me. I turn slightly in my chair. Fucking hell, she is gorgeous.

"Hi, I'm Helena." She extends her hand. I take it bringing it to my lips.

"Nice to meet you, Helena. I'm Tristan."

"Nice to meet you too," She places her hand back on her lap. "So, how is the dessert?" she asks. The table conversation picks back up and I chime in from time to time. I take a few peeks at her side profile, and man, she is gorgeous. I  wonder if she remembers me.

The rest of the evening went well, and I learned something important. Helena was the owner and executive chef of Lena. Every time we would come here to talk business, some guy Henry would be talking to us. No wonder, for the past two years, we were unable to get Lena's to expand. We were talking to the wrong person. What the hell?

As much as I want to flirt with Helena right now, I need to inform Chase and Darren what I found out. We say goodbye to one another and my phone pings.

Chase: Why would he not tell us he wasn't the owner? It would have made the process much easier two years ago.

Darren: Are you sure she is the owner? The guy was very adamant he owned Lena's.

Chase: Right.

Tristan: I'm positive Helena is the owner. I just had dinner with Nick and his friends—she's one of his friends. Small world.

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