But Mom’s smoky voice had drifted through my head. “Fuck them.”

And here I was, fucking them in my floral shirt as I stood next to the dang wall. Standing at the back of the group, I could barely see Aiden through the crowd of coworkers I normally adored but was a tiny bit ragey at right now. Not cranky enough to crowd my way up front and look at Aiden’s perfect face up close, though. I could stare back here without being creepy. I hoped.

Aiden shifted and I edged to the right. There. A gap.

He was speaking again and my belly quivered. That voice. That face. Dark hair gelled mercilessly into place. Eyes with a slight perma-squint that made whomever he looked at feel like one thousand percent of his attention was on them. I’d never survive that look. His shoulders were wide. Did he still have his wrestling physique?

Duh. It was better. A stacked but sinuous upper body with powerful thighs that could flip an opponent in a split second. That description was probably stitched into his suit. For the stacked but sinuous man in the business world.

His gaze roamed the crowd, lingering only long enough to make each person feel seen. He was over six feet tall, but he couldn’t see me tucked in the back of the group.

I could see him, and that was what mattered. It was just wrong how well that suit fit him. Black suit, black slacks. Light gray shirt. Simple, packing a powerful statement, one that said I can crush you physically or financially, and only I will decide. That thing must be custom tailored. With that wide chest tapering to his narrow waist and long legs, he couldn’t buy off the rack.

I snorted quietly. He could buy the whole rack. The whole store. The Kings were loaded.

Others might see money when it came to him, but I’d always seen dogged determination. Aiden King knew what he had to do and he worked at it until he accomplished the task. He’d been like that when he’d faced my brother on the wrestling mat. It didn’t matter the opponent. The grim determination in Aiden’s eyes had said he wasn’t thinking about the girls swooning over him in the stands. He wasn’t thinking about the party he’d be going to that weekend. He was planning his win. He was envisioning it. And he’d execute it.

He had that look now.

My body didn’t care. My knees shook like the time he’d walked past me after pinning my brother Jason. His gaze had skipped over me, but my teen mind insisted he’d lingered.

Aiden King lingered on nothing, definitely not me.