Then I stopped thinking about what I looked like compared to the random chicks he’d hooked up with—to the woman I knew he was engaged to, because yes, I did know that about him. None of that mattered now, because he was staring at my face, and it struck me that he hadn’t seen me in six years without my face being swollen or bandaged. Other than what my family had to have told him, this was the first time he was seeing me since I wasn’t a fan of pictures. Never had been, but even more so now. Any time he would’ve seen me would’ve been a rare glimpse from a distance.

His eyes were slightly wide as his gaze drifted from the left side to the right side of my face. The way he looked at me, a mixture of surprise and an emotion I didn’t want to see, something that turned the blood in my veins bitter, snapped me out of my stupor.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded sharply.

Brock’s gaze flew to mine. “Like, right now? Well, I was actually out here waiting for you.”

“Outside the ladies’ room?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s . . . that’s next level weird,” I muttered, glancing at the end of the hall. Avery and everyone had to be wondering where I was. “But what I meant is what are you doing in Martinsburg?”

“Having dinner,” he replied, his gaze never straying from mine. He held my eyes with the intensity that I found more than just unnerving. “You look . . . look amazing, Jillian.”

My breath caught at what appeared to be genuine sincerity in his voice, but then I realized that, compared to what he had seen, I looked like a million bucks. “So, you’re randomly in Martinsburg having dinner at the same restaurant I’m having dinner at?”

Brock blinked, obviously surprised by my snappy tone. Couldn’t really blame him for that. Back in the day, I pretty much smiled and nodded at whatever he said, so much so that my middle name could’ve been “Brock’s Personal Doormat. Welcome.”

And thinking that, I was suddenly thrust back to the night at the bar, when I stood in front of him in the dress I’d felt so grown up in, so hopeful, so in love, and so incredibly foolish.

One side of his lips kicked up, and it was that half-grin, the one that pretty much got Brock whatever he wanted. “Are you insinuating that I somehow found out about your dinner and purposely came here tonight just to see you?” He paused, eyes glimmering in the low light outside the restrooms. “Like I’m some kind of stalker?”

Well, that did sound ridiculous but wasn’t impossible. Mom knew I had this date tonight. I’d told her where we were going. Though I doubted she would’ve told Brock.

She had better not have told Brock.