Ah, yes, his daughter. Maybe there was some truth to it, but she was also his excuse.
“You use Raven as a shield. A justification not to get close to any woman because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”
“No, I don’t.”
She held up a hand. “It’s true. I do feel more than simple lust for you, so it’s better to break it off now if you don’t feel the same. I’m not interested in being with a guy who can’t give me what I need.”
“You deserve more than I can give you,” he repeated.
“Saying it once was enough, thanks,” she snapped.
His words were a cop-out and total bullshit. But she should be used to it. She was always too much. Or not enough. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin high enough that the sting in her eyes couldn’t spill over.
Kissing his cheek, she curved her lips into the smile she’d perfected after a lifetime of goodbyes. “I’ll see you around.”
She sauntered toward The Hill, refusing to look back. One foot in front of the other, away from another failed relationship. Forward was the only direction that mattered.
Her steps slowed. But what if there was nothing to look forward to in her future?
She rolled her shoulders and shook out her hands. It was time to stop with her pity pary for one. Dating wasn’t everything. She was rebuilding her career and was almost out of the red. And Asher? It was her own damn fault for thinking those lazy Sunday mornings and midnight tacos meant anything more than convenience. Hell, she’d been the one to suggest keeping it casual. She’d practically bragged about her no-strings philosophy. Turns out she was just another woman who couldn’t keep sex from getting complicated.
Pulling open the door to The Hill, music washed over her, a gentle caress on her sore heart. The daytime dinner tables were shoved against the wall, and gyrating bodies filled the makeshift dance floor with the usual last call hopefuls lining the outskirts and bar. The crowd parted for half a second, and she spotted two friends in a booth on the far side of the restaurant. They were chatting and nursing martinis. She’d grab a drink and join them.
Heading that way, she sighed. The bar was as packed as the dance floor. A man on a stool stood. Finally, a sliver of luck. She rushed forward and slid into the empty seat, nodding a thank you and signaling the bartender.
She glanced at the man on the adjacent stool and smiled. It was none other than sweet and sexy Max. Although right now, he looked more sour than sweet. No surprise. They’d both expected their nights to go very differently. She thought Asher would be coming home with her, and Max had probably assumed he was spending the night with Lilith. Instead, those two were riding off into the night together toward their happily ever after. Jerks.
Sitting straight, she ran a palm down her fitted red dress, subtly adjusting the plunging neckline. She and Max could use each other to forget about the night’s disappointments. As the wise adage said, “The best way to get over a man is to get under another one.”
Chapter Two
July 12th, 12:35 a.m.
Max London tapped his glass on the bartop and raised a hand at the bartender. Although, he should slow down or he’d be staggering home.
“Let me get your next drink,” came a sultry voice he recognized. The last time he’d heard it, it was laden with anger. Now it dripped with desire.
He turned to face Paloma. She crossed her legs and leaned against the bar, the silk of her dress pulling taut in all the right places. And damn, the woman looked really good in red. Asher was a fool to let her walk away.
“How about I get yours?” she asked, oozing confidence and sex. Was it hiding sadness underneath? She had to see the way Asher looked at his neighbor.
Before she told Brian her order, a pretty pink drink was set in front of her. Had she even ordered one? “Did you have a lager, Max?” the bartender asked.
“IPA,” he ground out. Couldn’t Brian, who was the regular weekend bartender for over a year, remember it? He didn’t seem to have the same problem with Paloma.
Fuck, he was as bitter as his drink. It was time to go home. “Add her drink to my tab, then close it.” Max downed his beer. It was time to sleep off his shitty mood.
He’d enjoyed dancing with Lilith, but there hadn’t been a spark between them. His only plan was to drop her off on his way home, and he hadn’t appreciated his friend’s insinuations and attitude. Asshole.
“Don’t leave so soon,” Paloma purred, resting a hand on his knee.
The words were clear enough. It was their meaning that had his mind spinning. Her palm slid higher on his leg, and his gaze darted between her hand and her face, to those hot, red cupid lips. They curved into a smile that sent his pulse racing. Her fingers traced even higher on his thigh, and his confusion vanished. Oh.Oh.
“What about Asher?” he asked.
“Honey.” She leaned closer. “I don’t wait around for any man who looks at another woman the way he looks at her.”
Every impulse in his body screamed to say yes. Which is exactly why he shifted his leg from her touch. Paloma was hotter than the July sun, but his first instincts were usually his worst—and right now, every single one of them was begging him to accept.
