I feel amazing and confident tonight. The dress I picked out is bold. It hugs my body with a shimmery black material. I know I look hot because I draw more than one eye. Though none of the guys who show interest in dancing with me are who I really want to spend my night with.
Does Cole like how I look in this dress?
I bite my lip and lose myself in the next song, imagining him behind me, hands resting on my hips possessively, pulling me back against his firm chest.
One of my girls hands me a fresh glass of champagne without missing a beat. I keep spinning and laughing as the song ends until I move too far away and bump into someone.
My mind conjures up Cole, but this guy isn’t built like him. He’s not muscular or tall enough, and doesn’t smell the same.
I blink open my eyes. My smile falls. Shawn.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
The once over he gives me used to excite me. All I feel now is acid upsetting my stomach.
“Actually,” I cut him off when he opens his mouth. “I don’t really want to hear it. You should go.”
He scoffs. “Why? It’s New Year’s Eve.” He spreads his arms. “I didn’t know you’d be here. Doesn’t look like you rented out the club, babe. This place is open to the public.”
It takes serious effort not to roll my eyes. Of course he’d feel entitled. How did it take me so long to recognize how selfish he is?
My handmade tiered disco ball earrings jostle when I shake my head. “Whatever. Just stay away from me, then.”
“Happy fucking New Year to you, too,” he shouts over the music when I walk away.
I hold my hand above the crowd to flip him off as I navigate to find my girls. They pull me into their circle with cheerful yells.
Lauren notices my irritated expression first. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just Shawn. He’s here.”
Caroline stops dancing. “Oh absolutely the fuck not. Come with us, we need to forget he even exists.”
I point at her. “Yes. That. Let’s do that.”
“Shots! Shots!” Julia chants, grabbing my shoulders from behind as she enthusiastically nudges me closer to the bar.
Cole’s there with Benson. He’s leaning on his forearm with his sleeves rolled up. One foot is propped on the low railing that runs the length of the bar. He nods to us when we arrive.
“Ready for another round, birthday girl?”
My stomach dips. When he calls me that with a playful, sexy tone, it stirs heat in my core.
“Yes, please.”
He pushes out of his slouch fluidly, eyes hooding as he peers down at me. I swallow thickly. My thighs slide together at the alluring languid air he has going on. He touches my disco ball earrings with a smirk, then gets a bartender’s attention.
Hot and cold tingles race across my skin.
People crowd around the bar. We get separated from Benson and the girls while they move further down to get their shots.
Cole takes my elbow and brings me closer to the counter, bracketing me with his arms from behind to shield me fromgetting bumped. A shiver zips down my exposed spine from his chest brushing my back.
His mouth dips to my ear. “Do you want whiskey? Vodka? Tequila?”
“Whiskey.”
A rumble of approval vibrates in his chest. I feel it against my skin and stifle the noise that threatens to escape me.
