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“Which one is that?” the woman next to me whisper-hisses to her friends. “He’s looking at his phone so I can’t see his—” She inhales sharply. “It’s Lucien Beaumont. Hot, massive bulge and single. Jackpot.”

I sigh dramatically, hoping she might take a hint. She doesn’t.

“Ladies, I hope you don’t mind,” a deep voice says in a playful tone.

I pull the hood of my hoodie up over my head and tug on the strings to tighten it. Lucien continues.

“My buddy is thinking about using a pickup line on a woman, and I told him it’s too cheesy. Since you’re even more beautiful than she is, I was wondering if you could tell me whether it would work on you.”

The woman next to me giggles as I grimace, trying to keep my focus on the game I’m playing. Careless men are picking women up at bars around the world at this very moment, and I can’t stop it from happening. I need to stay focused on myself, and where the hell is my dad?

Lucien clears his throat. “Hey girl, is your name Anesthesia? Because you’re a knockout.”

The three women burst out laughing like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I audibly groan, but no one notices.

“I mean, if it was you trying that line on me, it would definitely work,” the woman next to me says.

I turn to look at her. She’s maybe twenty-one, with long blond hair and an overeager smile.

“You’re so familiar to me.” She’s breathless with excitement now. “Where do I know you from?”

“Are you a model? I did a magazine thing last year and there were some models in it.”

She blushes, basking in his compliment. “No, I’m a nursing student.”

“If you need to practice mouth-to-mouth, I volunteer.” He grins wickedly and she laughs again.

“Are you a hockey fan?” he asks.

“I’m a massive fan. Oh my god, wait ... Are you ... Lucien Beaumont?”

There’s a smile in his voice as he replies. “I am. And you are ...?”

“Gullible.” I turn on my stool and look Lucien in the eye. “How many times have you picked a woman up with that stupid line?”

His brows shoot up in surprise. One of the blonde’s friends, a brunette with bright-red lipstick, glares daggers at me.

“Who invited you into the conversation?”

“I’m trying to look out for her, which you should be doing.” I look at the blonde. “You’re disposable to him. You deserve someone who isn’t picking up a different woman every night.”

Lucien is scowling, mentally calling me a cockblocker. “I’m sorry, who are you? Are you just some random person inserting yourself into other people’s business because some guy stood you up?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “No one stood me up.”

“Right, because look at you.” Red Lipstick sneers at me. “You’re wearing a nasty hoodie with a stain on it and you look like you’re in the middle of a bender. Instead of being jealous of other women, go take a shower and locate your dignity.”

Her words make me recoil, my temper igniting.

“I’m the one who needs to locate my dignity?”

“Ladies.” Lucien puts his hands out in a calming gesture.

“Now I know what we’ve been smelling since we got here,” Red Lipstick says. “She’s living proof that not all incels are men.”

“Okay, bitch.” I slide off my stool, the flare of anger in my chest the strongest feeling of any kind I’ve had in months.

“Hey, don’t,” Lucien says gently, putting a hand on my shoulder to keep me from charging toward Red Lipstick.