The music was so loud I felt it in my ribs.
Not heard it — felt it.
Bass thudding through the floor, through my boots, through my chest as Sage and I shoved our way through bodies and heat and fog and fake smoke and spilled beer. Salem at night wasn’t quaint anymore. It was wild. Costumes everywhere. Pirates and vampires and shirtless Spartans and girls in corsets and fishnets and glitter.
For the first time in months, I wasn’t thinking about my ex.
Or work.
Or the future.
I was just… there.
Then someone leaned down close to my ear.
“What’s your name?”
I turned.
Bright green eyes.
Perfect teeth.
Dark tan.
At least six feet tall.
Not just fit —jacked. Shoulders straining the seams of his tight black shirt, arms thick and cut and unapologetically on display.
I froze for half a second.
I had never had a man like this approach me in my life.
“Beth,” I shouted over the music.
He smiled like he already knew he’d won.
“I’m Derek.”
And just like that, his hands were on my hips and mine were on his shoulders and we were moving together in a way that made my brain short-circuit. Not awkward. Not shy. Easy. Confident. Heat and rhythm and sweat.
We didn’t talk.
We didn’t need to.
Twenty minutes later he dragged me to the bar.
Thirty minutes after that, we were pressed against the brick wall by the bathrooms, kissing like we were trying to memorize each other. He tasted like mint and whiskey. His hands slid to my waist, my fingers traced the curve of his bicep, amazed at how solid he felt.
That was when I opened my eyes.
Across the room — maybe twenty feet away — I saw Sage.
Already working her magic.
She had a tall one this time. Broad shoulders. Blond. Looked like he’d walked straight out of a college locker room.
Of course she did.
