Well, it wasn't really Adam.

There was no way this was Adam. I told myself this even as my feet were moving closer to him. The man's back was to me, but I'd recognize that posture anywhere.

Who else could be the embodiment of a starchy shirt?

Out of every rich, rigidly trained young master I've ever met, only Adam stood like that. His dark chocolate hair was always slicked back like that. That dark green suit was the same one he wore when he returned to me all those years ago.

It was Adam.

It had been years since I'd seen him, but there was no way I'd ever forget him. My heart pounded with fear and pain that I was dreaming.

It would hurt worse to be wrong.

I could feel the rest of the room disappear as I locked in on him. Was this that elusive feeling I'd been chasing for all this time? Adam was in this world, too?

My hands shook as I grabbed his arm and pulled him to look at me. "Adam!" I said, unaware of the tone in which it escaped my lips. I could barely breathe, yet I managed to say his name.

The man spun to look down at me, and I gasped. Oh shitballs. It's not him.

The image of Adam that overlapped with the man vanished, and someone completely different stood in its place. Golden blonde hair, while slicked back, was not Adam's darker locks. The warm, dark eyes I wanted to see were instead a set of shocking golden orbs. This man was also built differently than the slim young master that was Adam. His thick arm flexed its muscles as I held on. My grip became tighter as if it was my last anchor to this reality. This arm had seen labor and obviously toiled at the gym. Adam's face was chiseled elegance on a platter. This man's face was a hardened beauty that looked as fierce as his body.

How could I have mistaken the two when they were night and day of each other?

"What is your problem?" A shrill feminine voice snapped me out of my daze. I was so locked unto him that I didn't see that he was with a crowd of people. The illusion my eyes created was instantly shattered as I was brought back into the present. The glaring silence that had dimmed was returned with shocking clarity.

"I'm so sorry." I stammered as I could feel my cheeks flush hot with a mixed cocktail of pain, shame, and loss. "I thought you were someone I knew." The man silently appraised me among the annoying laughter from those around us. His intense scan of me gave away none of his thoughts on this matter. He slowly looked me up and down, and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. There was something about his gaze that made me feel like running. Contrary to that notion, I could feel my feet lock in place and stiffen like prey on display.

Finally, his gaze landed on my right hand, still holding his arm. I dropped it and backed away, fumbling to come up with something to say. I couldn't for the life of me speak again as my throat tightened painfully. Luckily, my eyes didn't water, but my knees buckled.

I'm losing my sense of reality. Will I ever be rid of this pain?

My joyous escape backstage was not as satisfying as I previously imagined. Sure, I had my books and my tarts to frolic around with. The books were boring, and the tarts were tasteless. How could I study when it hurt to breathe? The little ground I had steadily created beneath my feet was swept clean by an earthquake of memories.

I casually tossed the books and all but one of the tarts back into my space. I wasn't going to get anything done until I cleared my head.

I rubbed my chest and did my best to soothe my painfully beating heart. The ache in my stomach reminded me of how empty that part of me was. I wrapped an arm around my midsection, but as expected, it didn't help.

Clearly, time was not a factor in my healing. It had been almost two decades since I lost Adam, and yet I was still looking for him.

Tonight was just another painful reminder that I would fail when doing so. At least I didn't curl up into a ball at that man's feet. A small victory but one nonetheless.

I tried to distract myself with left-out tart, but it didn't work. My face scrunched in pain at the realization that it would be a long time before I could enjoy these so-called world-famous tarts. The chewed-up mush stuck to my mouth, and I winced as I tried to swallow it. Without looking, I carelessly tossed the uneaten half of the tart into my space.

I needed to find another way to wash away the pain. Or did I just need more time? Time was supposed to heal all wounds, wasn't it? Another ten years, and maybe I could ease the pain of losing him. Fuck that is a long time to go with this kind of crutch.

Footsteps drew my attention, and I looked up, expecting to see Clara, the expert tracker. Instead, it was the man from before, and I dumbly gulped my bite of the tasteless world-famous tart.

Why had he followed me back here? Surely a decent-looking guy like him didn't need to listen to the ravings of a heartbroken woman?

"Are you okay?" He said.

I could feel that little hope of him being Adam dying with those three words. His voice wasn't bad, but it wasn't Adam's. I knew Adam's rich voice better than my own.

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How could I still hope that it was him? What was wrong with me? Yet, as he stood there casually taking up space, I could see Adam in his movements. I watched, fascinated, as he strode a few steps closer. I lowered my lashes to hide the suffering in my eyes.

I nodded and expected him to leave, but unexpectedly, he moved closer until he stood right before me. "I'm called Leo. What's your name?" Leo said.

I made a face, recalling how Dolyn was a lazy play on my real name, Gwendolyn. "Dolyn," I said. Like him, I didn't say my surname.

I didn't dare look up but kept my lashes down. It was hard to look at Leo. Every gesture and even how he stood made me think of Adam. Time passed, and Leo spoke just when I was brave enough to look up.

"Was this Adam supposed to be at the party?" My heart jerked at Adam's name, and I shook my head no.

I wet my lips and opened my mouth, praying my voice would come out. "No. I mistook you for him, which is silly considering how little you resemble one another." I said. I tried to keep my voice aloof and amiable. Grief laced my voice, and I was breathless with it. I fiddled with the rose ring on my finger, unable to maintain eye contact. Touching it gave me strength, and I could feel my shoulders relax.

"How did you mistake me for him?" His question was soft, and the deep rasp cajoled me into looking up and meeting his gaze.

The answer slipped out before I could stop myself: "Your posture. It was like I was seeing him again." My lips thinned at that admission, and I looked down at my lap. That sounded even worse out loud than it did in my head.

"Is he your ex?" Leo's voice seemed to persist, and I looked up again.

His words, though, gave me pause. Adam was my best friend, and he was my lover. Undoubtedly, his love for... My unspoken thoughts connected like a knife to my heart as I stopped myself from thinking her name.

He was never meant to be mine, and even now, I couldn't bring myself to claim him.

Yet I couldn't say no. Acknowledging that we weren't really together was tantamount to closing the door of what we were and could have been. It was spitting on all that we lost.

I stood up and moved to brush past Leo and his strange persistence. Forget the party; I need to crawl into bed and cry a million more tears.

Leo grabbed my arm and spun me to look at him. I gasped at the abrupt action, and my eyes flashed up to see his golden orbs. His face leaned down until his breath fanned over me. I found myself blinking stupidly at the scent of his cologne. The woodsy scent reminded me of Adam. No, it was exactly like Adam. I gave him bottles of my personal mix. I would know what he wore! But it was more than just that woodsy cologne. There was an undeniable combination of fine silk and Adam's personal aroma. Was I losing it again? Only this time through my sense of scent, not sight? Regardless of the madness I exhibited, I found myself drawn to the good memories that scent brought me. My hands grabbed the front of his shirt as I attempted to bring that scent even closer.

"You remind me of someone as well." Leo's words stopped my spiral narration that was driving me mad. Before I could ask who Leo's lips were on mine.

I stiffened at the invasion of his hot tongue, yet I didn't resist. He didn't explore or waste time, and there was something so natural about how we connected. I closed my eyes and relied on Adam's scent filling my lungs.

Adam.

Only with more of his plundering tongue, the less effort I put into imagining him as Adam. The way he kissed me and touched me was as if Adam were doing it. How many kisses had we shared? Adam learned all of my buttons, and likewise, I knew his. The way he used his tongue on me and his hands to cup my face was like how Adam would.

I dug my hands into his hair like I'd done a thousand times and mussed it up as our heavy panting grew more ragged.

He made a happy noise, and I bit his lip playfully. He used one powerful arm to hold me tightly as his lips found my neck and gave me a kiss right before my right ear.

His scorching touch brought happiness, but I could feel fear growing. Was I lost in a fantasy? Was this something brought upon by my witchy powers? Maybe I missed Adam so much I found a way to make an extra subconscious?

The hand that cupped my face moved to squeeze the back of my neck. That simple action brought me back to the moment. I gasped as his warm, calloused palm stroked me. The tears I had won the battle over before came to my eyes at the familiar kneading of my neck.

So, for the first time in a long time, I turned off my brain and let my body do the talking. I clung to him and grabbed whatever I could to make this moment last longer. I inhaled his scent until I felt dizzy and imprinted his warmth onto me as much as possible. I could feel how hard he'd grown, and in response, I grew wet. His long, calloused fingers slipped under my dress, and pleasure shot through me when he found my clit.

He nibbled on my neck, and I could feel these sharp kisses move down towards my breasts.

The piercing ringtone of my phone sharply ended the fantasy. That ring was for Wyatt, and he was watching Darius for me. I pulled away to fish my phone from my bra. "Hey, it's me, I just wanted to tell you that Darius woke up, and he's looking for you." Wyatt's voice cut through the sexual fog, and I looked up to see Leo's unreadable gaze. He could clearly hear Wyatt, but he said nothing. Leon's body, however, tensed, and his arms locked me to him firmly.

"I'm on my way," I said. I was breathless, and my voice was thick with emotion. I hung up and elbowed Leo in his hard stomach. Does he have abs? Focus, woman, I scolded myself as I took advantage of his loosened grip to shimmy out of his hold.

I could see Leo fully again, and disappointment shot through my heart. He's really not Adam. How could so many things click into place for it not to be him? Joy and desire pulsed, making it hard for me to feel the pain I commonly endured. I was cocooned in Adam's scent, and Leo's touch imprinted itself on me. I didn't want to leave, but I really needed to.

Leo grabbed my right hand as I took a step back to leave. I watched as his long fingers traced my space ring and scar. The silence stretched, and I wet my lips: "I have to go; my baby brother needs me." I don't know why I filled in that fact when I left it particularly vague for everyone else. I shouldn't care if he misunderstood or heard rumors about me, but I found myself caring.

Leo's eyes didn't look up at my words. He was intently studying my hand, and I could feel myself panicking to fill in the silence. "He doesn't have his mother, and our father has left him to me to raise." Still nothing, and I reluctantly snatched my hand free and took a step backward. Leo looked up at this action but still said nothing. It felt strange for the previously intrusive man to be so quiet.

The look in his eyes was demanding, possessive. There was something else, but it swirled in his golden eyes as elusive as his voice. I gulped as I ran towards the curtains to escape.

"Dolyn." His husky voice caressed my back, and I paused. I rotated to meet his scrutiny. He advanced until he was again only a few inches away. I was too busy sucking in his scent to think it was strange. He acted so familiar with me, and I should be suspicious. Or was I that much of a sucker for Adam's scent?

"Leo." I sounded way more breathless than I anticipated.

"Are you in love with Adam?" He said. His blunt words were as straightforward as his gaze and connected just as deeply.

I gasped as my throat tightened and my eyebrows twisted. It felt like a chokehold, and my eyes were flooded with memories of before it. Much later, I would wonder why this man who stuck his tongue down my throat would ask such a question. Instead, I used a hand to knead my throat, but nothing would aid the constriction of air. I did the only thing I could do: I fled and didn't look back.

I wish I could silence the voice in my head that answered him.