Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Leo’s temple, though the air conditioning blasted a frigid gale. He adjusted his tie, the silk a constricting noose. He was here for Liam, his best friend, not for *her*. The thought of running into Chloe brought with it a familiar thrumming in his chest, a feeling he’d worked hard to bury. He'd even taken an extra dose of his anxiety medicine.

He found himself wandering near the bar, feigning interest in the meticulously arranged bottles. He needed a drink, a stiff one. He bumped into a waiter, mumbled an apology, and his hand instinctively went to his jacket pocket, checking for his phone, a pathetic shield.

He saw her across the room, laughing with a group of people. Her hair, the same shade of auburn he used to love, was pulled back in a loose braid. He felt a sudden, sharp pang, a hollowness in his gut. He quickly turned, pretending to be utterly absorbed in the bartender's selection of garnishes.