Aspen tilted her head. “He was your first love.”
“Yep. He taught me what love feels like. Then he taught me what heartbreak feels like.” This time, she lifted her cocktail and took a huge gulp. The sweet liquid sat heavy in her belly.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Callie. You know that?”
She turned to her friend, a deep sadness inside her. “I don’t feel strong.”
“Ah, but that’s the thing about strength—it’s easier for others to see than for us to feel.”
Callie leaned her head on Aspen’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“Most don’t.”
Despite everything, Callie laughed. “I still have to leave, you know.”
“Dance first.”
“Aspen—”
“Come on. One dance, then you can go home to your sweats andBridgerton.”
“How did you know that’s what I wanted to do?”
Aspen rolled her eyes. “Hello, we live together and share the same Netflix account.”
“You’re a romance writer. Shouldn’tBridgertonbe your thing?”
“Nope. Not into the historical stuff.”
Callie was tempted to tell her that she didn’t watchBridgetonfor its historical accuracy, but Aspen grabbed her hand and pulled her toward where a small group of people were already dancing. And even though Lock was right there in the bar, walking distance away, her friend was right—the second she started dancing, shedidfeel better. But then, movement had always been her salvation. It was why she’d become a yoga and Pilates instructor.
The entire time she was on the dance floor, she felt him staring at her, like a hot beam searing into her. It just reminded her that time was running out. That sooner rather than later,she’d need to tell him what had happened and why the timing of him breaking up with her made everything so much worse.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been dancing, but she was finally closing her eyes and getting lost in the music when large warm hands touched her hips.
She froze. For a moment, she thought it was Lock. But then a body pressed against her, and it wasn’t his familiar scent around her or the hard ridges of his chest touching her back.
“Mm, you look hot when you move. Wanna dance?”
She turned to look up into a set of black eyes. “No thanks.” She tried to step away, but his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against him.
“Not so fast.”
She pressed her hands to his chest. “Get your hands off me.”
He wasn’t put off by her words at all. In fact, he smiled, a lopsided grin that he probably thought was charming. It wasn’t. It was creepy and a bit slimy. “Come on. One dance. I promise I’ll let you go after that.”
He’dlether go?
She was about to push harder—but suddenly he was whipped off her, and before she could anticipate what was about to happen, Lock swung, nailing the guy in the face.
She gasped, jumping back, jaw dropping.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Lock yelled. The bar quieted around them as Lock stood over the guy, rage darkening his features. “She’s notyoursto touch.”
“Lock?” Her voice was almost breathless with disbelief. “What are you doing?”
The guy on the floor groaned, rolling to his side and grabbing his cheek.
