ALEX'S POV

The realization hits me like a freight train, knocking the air out of me.

"Jake would know who held the opening" I mutter, feeling like a damn idiot.

Jake is my business partner. We met in college, and became friends before opening our firm. People hire us to find rare, expensive art for them to buy. Jake handles the business side, paying the bills, procuring clients, and I find the art. He found the opening and told me it might be a good idea. I went, but saw no potential. I was leaving when I spotted her.

Obviously annoyed at the belated realization, Blaze cuts narrowed eyes in my direction, and the move alone would probably scare most grown men, but I ignore him completely as I dial Jake's number and hit send. I know Blaze. I know that he's a good person and I know that he uses his 'scary' appearance to keep people from getting close to him. I know because he uses his sheer size and I use my demeanor. My silence. His energy is threatening, mine is more 'Don't fuck with me, don't talk to me, hell don't even look at me'. I like it like that. I've worked hard to make it seem like I don't give a fuck. Except with her. She caught me off guard and I let her in without even meaning to. But the second I realized she was in I panicked.

"Yeah?" Jake's distracted voice brings me back to the present.

"It's Alex" I mutter, blinking a few times, but hurt grey eyes still haunt my vision.

"Hey man, I thought you were taking a personal day" he greets, giving me all of his attention.

"I am, I'm just calling to ask who held the opening last night."

He pauses, probably confused, but when I stay silent, not offering anymore information, I hear shuffling on his end.

"Uh.. It looks like it was a joint thing. Held by an art supply company and a woman who teaches art classes."

I plug the address for the art supply company into the GPS, and twenty minutes later we're walking across the large, empty lobby, stopping at the reception desk. The woman behind it looks up, unconsciously leaning back.

"Can I.. can I help you?" She stammers.

"We'd like to see mr. Douglas" I request politely enough, but we all knows it's not really a request.

She looks like she's about to argue, but the presence of the large man beside me has her scrambling for the phone as she keep her wide eyes bouncing between us.

"M-mr. Douglas, two gentlemen are here to see you... That's not really an option... Yes sir" she hangs up. "Go down the hall to your left, third door on your right."

I mumble a quiet thank you before we follow her directions, walking in without knocking, making the guy behind the desk lurch to his feet.

"Can I help you?" He asks with the same hesitation as his receptionist, though he makes more of an effort to hide it.

"I need a list of all the people you invited to the opening last night" I get right to the point, once again not asking.

"What is it with that list?" He mumbles to himself, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Blaze and I share a look.

She's been here.

"Why did she want the list?" I ask back. I know the answer, but I want to know what she told him. I'm getting the impression she's sneakier than she looks.

"She said she went to the opening and spilt champagne on a woman's jacket. She had the jacket dry cleaned, but didn't have the woman's full name." He doesn't seem to completely believes the explanation, but he also doesn't look like he regrets giving her the list.

Blaze smiles, and I can practically hear the thought 'typical Nat' in his head.

"I need a copy" I repeat, wanting to slam my fist into Blaze's face more than a little.

He nods, pressing a button on his phone.

"Please print out a copy of last nights guest list."

The intercom buzzes.

"Of course sir."

"Um.. you do know I co hosted it right?" He offers reluctantly.

"Does she know?" I counter, frustration simmering just below the surface.

"Yeah. I gave her the name of the co host and the caterer."

I bite back a curse, not liking how smart she's being about this. Is she a private contractor like Blaze? The thought burns my throat like acid. Blaze is always putting himself in dangerous situations, and everything in me wants her safe. I would find it more of a foreign concept if she wasn't steps ahead of us.

We go to leave, but Blaze stops just outside of the door, turning back to mr. Douglas.

"How much did she buy?" He asks knowingly.

"A couple thousand dollars worth."

His eyes turn soft in a way i've never seen them before. Blaze seems like a machine most of the time, his emotions few and far between. I don't know if they're nonexistent or just locked down tight, but most of the time if he's expressing emotions it's because he's taken on a case. Even then it's almost always anger. Anger that someone is being mistreated or that someone comes after him. It's his best emotion, and it fuels him. But since Nat came up..? He seems almost.. human and that's not a good fucking sign. She's mine. She's only allowed to make me feel human.

I force myself from my alarming thoughts when I hear Blaze mumble a distracted thank you and motion towards the door, telling me we're leaving, but they linger in the back of my mind like a deadly grey cloud.

Lindsey offers me the guest list, probably deciding I'm the least threatening.

Blaze's chest rumbles in a mixture of disapproval and impatience as he reaches for the list, but I ignore him as my eyes franticly scan the page, finding no Nat or name starting with Nat.

I curse under my breath as I try to push past the disappointment, failing miserably.

Guess we have to go to the art studio.

The ride is quiet, and we walk in without a word, finding the building mostly empty, only a few people left finishing paintings by the setting sun.

The woman situated at the head of the room goes to answer the phone in the corner before we can approach.

"Hello... Wednesday... You'd have to pay for it now to book it." She reaches over the desk, turning the computer towards her, typing into it. "Credit card number?... Ok. Wednesday at 3.... Yes I will. I instruct the classes... You're welcome" she hangs up, catching site of us. "Can I help you?" She asks, glancing between the two of us.

"Are you Olivia Bushwick?"

"Yes."

"I need a list of people you invited to the opening last night" I monotone in an attempt to hide my exhaustion, but I'm not sure it works.

"Can I ask why you want it?" She asks in obvious confusion as she rounds the desk and rummages through a stack of papers, handing me the list once she finds it.

"Thank you for your time" I ignore the question, heading for the door, not even checking if Blaze is following. I know he is.

Neither of us say a word until we're back in the car, then we just sit there awhile, full of both dread and hope. Such a dangerous emotion.

Soon though, the fantasy of the best case scenario isn't enough and we're reading the list as fast as we can. No Nat or name starting with Nat.

Dammit. How in the hell are we going to find her?

"What next?" I rumble tiredly.

"Nothing. Today" he clarifies at my dark look. "The sun is setting and we've run out of leads. I'll make some calls and put some feelers out. See what I can come up with" he assures as he starts the car.

Sure he will.

"How do you know her, and what aren't you telling me?" I demand, finally giving in, fed up with feeling like he knows her better than I do. She's mine. Only. Mine.

"Am I riding solo tomorrow?" He asks instead of answering, pulling into the parking lot of my office, parking next to my car.

"I'm coming" I mutter, getting out, stopping just short of closing the door. "Do not look for her without me" I warn lowly, slamming the door shut before he can respond, though I hear the low rumble that for Blaze constitutes as a chuckle.

The thirty minute drive home evaporates most of the annoyance, leaving me tired and confused about just about every-goddamn-thing. Except the overwhelming need for her. That's real fucking apparent.

The quiet envelops me, easing my racing thoughts, but it makes me ache for her in my arms impossibly more as I fight to loosen my tie with a sound of frustration that has nothing to do with the fabric and everything to do with me. Once I finally get the damn thing off, I shrug off my jacket and remove my cufflinks so I can unbutton my sleeves, then my shirt. Dialing from memory, I order my usual, grabbing a beer before settling in front of the TV, flipping through channels, barely seeing the screen. Black and white movie. Hallmark Chanel. Cooking show. Infomercial. News story about a shooting involving a civilian casualty on the corner of Jackson and Day. Superhero movie. Documentary. History channel.

Already over it, I stop flipping when I find a baseball game. I can't seem to concentrate on the screen though, because her sweet scent lingers on my skin, letting me know with every breath that she's real. Not a figment of my imagination or a dream. I held her, felt her laugh in every part of my heart, looked into grey eyes that showed a longing I know is mirrored in my own. She's real and she's mine.

The doorbell rings, dragging me from my thoughts.

I stand, swiping my wallet off the couch next to me, grabbing a fifty before tossing it onto the kitchen table as I pass.

The guy offers the bag with a nice enough smile, but his dreams obviously aren't to trek up three flights of stairs, smelling like Chinese food.

I thank him, handing him the money, taking the food, heading back to the game after grabbing a fork.

I finish my beer, food and three more innings before I give up, leaving the trash where it is, turning off the tv, heading towards my room.

Stripping out of my shirt, pants and socks, I slip under my expensive ass sheets that have never felt so cold as I stare at the ceiling fan, just fucking knowing that sleeps going to be more elusive than normal tonight.

God I was so stupid. Why didn't I kiss her? Why did I leave?

I know the answer, I just don't like it. I'm broken. How could someone love pieces?

I close my eyes, haunted by grey ones, just like every time i've closed them since the moment I left her. Hell, I see her every time I fucking blink.

My sigh echoes in the suffocating silence as I vow to get information out of Blaze tomorrow, and to find her.