The thought crashes into my consciousness like an unwelcome guest, and suddenly I'm not fully present anymore. I'm dancing in a crowded bar with this ridiculously attractive man's hands on me, who's looking at me like I'm dessert after a month-long sugar free diet, and I'm thinking about my ex.
Seriously, Charlie? This is what we're doing right now?
Bash must notice the shift in my expression because his eyebrows draw together slightly, head tilting in silent question.
I force myself back to the present.
No. Not tonight.
I refuse to give Ethan space in my head when there's this much electricity between me and the man in front of me. I won't let my ex haunt this moment like some relationship poltergeist.
"You disappeared for a second there," Bash says, his voice cutting through the music. "Everything okay?"
I make a calculated decision. "Do you want to get out of here?"
His eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly. "Where to?"
"Anywhere." I press closer, emboldened by alcohol and rebellion against my own overthinking brain. "Just somewhere that isn't here."
A slow smile spreads across his face. Not smug, not presumptuous, just pleased. "Let me grab our jackets."
I grab his hand and pull him off the dance floor, cutting a path toward the table where Emily, Lily, Tyler and another man are laughing over drinks.
As we weave through the crowd, the air between us crackling with electricity, Emily spots us approaching. Her face lights up with that particular expression I recognize all too well with equal parts curiosity and mischief.
"There you two are!" she exclaims, waving enthusiastically. "I was about to send a search party."
"We were just dancing," I say, though the heat in my cheeks probably tells a different story.
Emily's eyes dart between us, noting Bash's hand still firmly clasped around mine. "Well, come meet Max! He just got here."
She gestures to a dark-haired man I hadn't noticed before. Tall, conventionally handsome, with the kind of smile that suggests he knows it.
"Max, this is my sister Charlie and Tyler's friend Sebastian," Emily introduces.
Max extends his hand, his gaze sliding over me in a slow, deliberate assessment. "Charlie. Wow. That dress is something else."
I drop my hand from Bash's and take Max's hand briefly. "Thanks."
"Sebastian?" Max turns to Bash with a firm handshake. "Good to meet you, man."
"Bash," he corrects, his voice neutral but his posture subtly shifting closer to me.
Max leans against the table, angling his body toward me. "So Charlie, Emily's told me you work in marketing? What a coincidence, because I just launched a boutique agency last year."
"That's...great," I say, not wanting to talk about work right now.
"We should grab coffee sometime," Max continues, either missing or ignoring the signals. "I'm always looking to connect with other creatives. Maybe next week?"
I catch Emily's eye, silently pleading for an extraction. "Actually, I think I have meetings all next week and we were just leaving," I tell them.
"Leaving?" Max looks genuinely confused, as if the concept of someone not wanting to continue a conversation with him is foreign. "But the night's just getting started! I ordered a bottle for the table."
Bash's arm slides around my waist, casual but unmistakably possessive. "Another time, maybe."
"Come on," Max persists, leaning closer. "One drink. I promise I'm more interesting than I seem."
Emily, bless her intrusive but occasionally useful sisterly instincts, swoops in. "Max! You were telling us about that celebrity client who trashed your Airbnb, remember? We're dying to hear the rest."
