Chapter One
Alexis Wolf wasnotlonely.
She was self-sufficient. Independent. Selective. At least that was the story she told herself as she stepped intoNinety-Two, a lesbian club conveniently located three blocks from her apartment in Nob Hill, Portland. And if she had to rush off to the bathroom to repeat that to her reflection in the mirror, well… she wasn’t above it.
The door swung shut behind her, and she was immediately swallowed by a tunnel of cobalt light funneling her toward the bar. Crystal pendants dripped from the ceiling of the club like frozen rain, each catching the strobes of light and scattering shards of color across the space. The bass thumped so hard it pressed against her ribs and vibrated through the sticky black-and-white checkered floor.
Everywhere she looked was a kaleidoscope of women. Some were tall, some small, a few were buttoned up, and more than a handful were half undressed. Looking around, she could see shaved heads that gleamed like polished stone, curls haloed with sweat, and tattoos climbing forearms like ivy. It was as if someone had thrown every queer archetype into a blender and then poured the mix onto the dance floor.
She wasn’t lonely, Alexis reminded herself, sliding her clutch bag across the bar’s metallic countertop. She simply needed a distraction. Something warm and loud and temporary, preferably a body pressed up against hers long enough to forget how empty her apartment felt.
“Alexis!” The bartender, a woman with a bowl cut and a golden loop glinting in her nose, spotted her instantly. Shebalanced a half-empty bourbon bottle in one hand and motioned with the other to keep the line moving. “I had a feeling you would be here tonight.”
“And why is that, Tori?”
Tori tilted her head and yanked a rag from a hook on the wall. “I saw the contestant call out for the next season of—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alexis said quickly, cutting Tori off. And she didn’t. She sure as hell didn’t want to even think about the new season ofThe Sapphic Match.And she certainly didn’t want to think about the last onewhen they’d made her look like a grade-A asshole who had tried to blackmail the bachelorette into choosing her at the final lei ceremony. Which, yes, was exactly what she had done.
But still.Wasn’t that how the game was technically supposed to be played?
It had taken months for people not to point her out in public, weeks of hiding in her apartment in stale-smelling pajamas, eating leftover takeout, and letting her hair go unbrushed until a knot so stubborn had forced her to cut out a chunk herself. She’d ignored calls from friends and family. She had avoided work emails and meetings. And she’d nearly gotten fired from her job at Pack Up Real Estate because, honestly, who wants to buy a house from a woman who had a reputation for acting like a snake?
“Alright then. I’ll just get your martini ready for you.” Tori grinned in that way she’d done from day one when Alexis had first slumped into the bar a few months ago with her hair a mess and her blouse misbuttoned. Tori had placed a martini in front of her, with three olives perfectly speared on a tiny pick, and said, “Here. You look like you need this.”
And she had needed every other martini since.
“Thanks,” Alexis grumbled, curling her fingers around the stem of the glass. She tipped it up just enough to sip beforesetting it back down on the counter. Then, she swiveled on the barstool and scanned the room like she always did. Groups of women clustered near corners while others danced in the center of the room. The music was loud, and the lights were dim, but Alexis’s attention quickly snapped to a woman at the far side of the bar. The stranger wore a black leather jacket with a gleaming silver zipper, and her lipstick was like wet cherries. She had one heel hooked on the barstool rung, and her gaze was out on the dance floor. She was trouble for sure; Alexis could tell. A little wild. Somewhat untouchable. And so, of course, she was perfect.
Alexis picked up the martini glass and gulped down half of it. The gin bit her tongue as she stood up. “Thanks, Tori.”
“No problem,” Tori said, glancing at her with that silly, amused smile, like she knew exactly what Alexis was thinking of doing and considered advising her against it.
Alexis ignored her and headed toward the other end of the bar. Her heels clacked against the tiles that were sticky with spilled beer and who knew what else. She threaded slowly through the crowd. She didn’t need much from the woman in the leather jacket. Just a little distraction, something to take the edge off. Maybe even completely forget thatThe Sapphic Matchwas already hunting for a shiny new bachelorette and desperate for love contestants to plaster across TV screens. Alexis had seen the calls everywhere. There was a bus ad with a grinning brunette holding a deep red rose. Her Instagram feed was clogged with ‘apply now’ banners, and she had even seen a poster taped to the window of the coffee shop where Alexis got her morning Americano. They were all bold reminders of how she had fucked up.
Alexis forced the thoughts away. Tonight wasn’t about how she had messed up on the nation’s favorite dating show. It was about gin, deliciously bad decisions, and maybe waking up tomorrow without remembering either.
She was halfway to her cherry-lipped distraction when, suddenly and out of nowhere, a body slammed into hers. The impact sent her a half-step sideways into a bar stool. Her hip took the brunt of it and she remained unscathed, but still, Alexis’s first instinct was to lash out. She was already inhaling a breath to deliver something snarky. At the very least, she would tell the woman off for not watching where she was going.
But the words didn’t come out. In fact, Alexis couldn’t speak at all. The woman who had bumped into her wasn’t just some sweaty stranger she could brush off and forget about. She was gorgeous. Striking. With eyes the exact shade of over-steeped tea and dark brown hair cut to her shoulders, a blunt fringe nearly skimming her lashes. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the club. A strand of hair stuck to the stranger’s lip gloss, and Alexis found her gaze lingering on her full lips longer than she should have.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. Her voice was soft but not meek, smoky but not gravelly. She looked completely apologetic, down to the thin press of her lips. “There are just so many people and I… I feel like I can’t move without bumping into someone.”
“Well, do you want to get out of here?” Alexis asked, surprising even herself. This had to be some kind of record. “We could go somewhere quieter.”
The woman blinked at her, startled. She appeared so startled that Alexis immediately wanted to yank the words back and, if that didn’t work, crawl under the bar and stay there forever. She was halfway to opening her mouth to backpedal when the woman smiled.
“Birdie,” she said, which made Alexis frown deeply.
“My name,” the woman added, tugging at the thin strap of her blue sequin top barely holding her cleavage together. “Birdie.”
“Oh,” Alexis said, her throat dry. She blinked, shook her head slightly because, of course it was her name. What else could it be? Alexis then extended a hand before she could talk herself out of it. “Lexi,” she said, when it became apparent that Birdie hadn’t recognized her. She didn’t often give out the nickname that her parents called her, but for some reason, it just seemed right.
“Are you serious about getting out of here, Lexi?” Birdie asked. Her eyebrows rose until they were lost to her bangs. She sounded both terrified and thrilled.
“There’s a hotel a few blocks down the road,” Alexis replied, fiddling with the zipper on her clutch purse. She really wanted this. Her thighs had been humming ever since she had set foot in the club. Her body was aching for a release. She wasn’t about to waste her time on someone who didn’t want exactly what she wanted. Sex, and nothing more.
“Not your apartment?”
