She grins, completely unfazed. “We haven’t gone out together in forever. We’re going to have fun. You deserve it.”
I contemplate my life choices and why I ever befriended someone who thrives in chaos when I prefer quiet corners. Eventually, I surrender.
“Fine. You win. But you’re nursing my hangover, and I expect a breakfast burrito tomorrow.”
Tate squeals, bouncing on her toes, before grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the staff car park.
An hour later, I’m freshly showered and doing my best to make myself look presentable. My hair falls in loose, beachy waves, because there’s no universe in which I’m wrestling with a straightener after a twelve-hour shift.
Wrapped in a towel, I sit on the edge of my bed, staring into my walk-in wardrobe, seriously considering sending Tate a last-minute excuse. She must have a sixth sense, because my phone buzzes almost immediately.
Tate
Ten minutes away. Be ready or I’m dragging you out in whatever you’re wearing. Love you.
I groan. “Get it together, Em.”
I slip into a little black dress that hugs in the right places, add heels, a necklace, and a spritz of my favourite perfume. One last glance in the mirror.
“This will have to do,” I murmur, tousling my hair before grabbing my purse.
The doorbell rings moments later, followed by Tate’s voice. “Open up! I brought supplies.”
I usher her inside before she can get any louder. “Shh! The neighbours are probably asleep. I don’t need a lecture tomorrow.”
She just laughs, holding up the bottle triumphantly. “Relax. We’ve got just enough time for a couple of shots.”
Fantastic.
By the time we reach the club, a warm buzz settles through my veins. The bass vibrates through my chest, my body moving almost instinctively as we wait at the bar. It’s packed, loud, chaotic, alive.
Tate’s already working her charm. When the bartender slides our drinks across, he pauses just long enough to pass her a piece of paper.
“On the house,” he says with a wink.
I stare at her, incredulous. “We’ve been here five minutes.”
She laughs and hands me my shot. “Cheers to a wild night.”
We down the drinks, both grimacing before chasing them with something stronger.
Soon, Tate drags me onto the dance floor. The music is too loud to hear her, so I just nod and let myself be pulled along. My bodyloosens, confidence creeping in as I sway, roll my shoulders, let go.
And that’s when I see him.
Tall. Dressed in black. Tattoos slipping out from beneath his sleeves. Not bulky, but solid, someone who clearly takes care of himself. Dark hair falls into his eyes as he moves, effortless and magnetic.
He’s dancing with a stunning brunette, his hands familiar on her hips. I shouldn’t watch, but I do.
Then his gaze lifts, and his icy blue eyes fixed on me, sharp with intensity, dangerous, magnetic.
The world tilts.
Something tightens low in my stomach as he holds my stare, unblinking. His tongue glides up the brunette’s cleavage. The moment stretches, charged and electric.
I’m still looking at him when everything happens at once.
A rush of air.
