Chapter 1
LAWSON
I’m in hell.
Okay. That’s a bit dramatic.
Then again, I’m huddled into a booth that is overlooking a packed club on New Year’s Eve. There’s two things I absolutely loath right there.
A holiday where getting drunk is an integral part of the “fun.”
People.
But as torturous as those are, they’re not the main source of my current agony.
No. That would be the one person I’ve always wanted—but could never have—and the display she’s putting on.
It doesn’t matter how many people there are, I’ll always only see her.
It’s a blessing and a curse.
And right now, that curse is relentless as I watch her dance with some fucker who looks seconds away from taking her right there on the dance floor.
He closes the already small amount of space between their bodies and I lock my muscles to keep myself seated. If I went over there, it would only lead to me doing something I’ll regret. Something that would inevitably make her upset.
Like ripping her out of his arms and breaking the nose he keeps burrowing into her long golden waves.
But no.
I can’t do that.
Even if it would be satisfying to see his posh appearance tainted.
I’ve spent years watching blokes like him chase after her. And her after them. She’s got a type and he’s just another copy of the one before.
The words ‘I’m a pretty boy and I know it’ are practically stamped across his forehead, right below his overly-highlighted hair and above his eyebrows that I have no doubt he gets professionally done.
I also wouldn’t be surprised if he has a skin care routine longer than hers since even from here I can see that his glowing, clean shaven face is free of any blemishes.
I tilt my head and study the rest of him. Did he get his outfit steamed and pressed? I swear there isn’t a single wrinkle on his clothes or scuff on his shoes.
And why the hell is that bothering me more than it should? Seriously, who the fuck wears a white polo to a night club anyway?
My teeth grind at his perfected ‘boy next door’ look and I roll my eyes. He’s not the first. He won’t be the last. And no matter how much I want that particular cycle to end, I still don’t move from my seat. Even if her siren eyes keep flashing over here, taunting me with their call.
As if sensing my inner turmoil, her face breaks out in a beaming smile and she winks.
Don’t fall for it. Don’t you fucking fall for it.
I am not going over there.
I can’t.
After all these years of hiding my feelings from everyone—including myself—this will not be my undoing. I’m stronger than this. Her little display tonight won’t break me.
But it sure as hell is adding fuel, making those flames dance higher and higher inside me.
I watch his slimy hands slide over her sides and settle just next to her arse.
Water sloshes over my hand when I completely crush the bottle in my fist when she doesn’t try to push away his advances.
Ever the daring fucker, he tries his luck and slips them down lower, his fingers toying with the hem of her dress from where it’s ridden up with every sway of her hips.
Her flushed face—courtesy of the two unnaturally pink and overly sweet drinks she downed before bouncing off towards the dance floor—flickers but is quickly masked with a shy grin.
A tall brunette prowls up the steps of our VIP area and I scowl up at her when she stops in front of me, cutting off my view.
“What are you doing up here all alone?” she purrs.
I grunt, dropping back against the booth and breaking our eye contact. Apparently she doesn’t get the hint that I don’t want to be bothered because the next thing I know, she’s rounding the table and settling in next to me. Too close.
I shift away so her body doesn’t accidentally touch mine. And by accidentally, I mean I’m avoiding her very persistent pursuits to brush her tits over my arm. My gaze moves back to the dance floor but I don’t drop the awareness I have on this viper’s every move.
“No one should be celebrating the New Year alone. Maybe I can help you out with that?”
I cringe at the heavy scent of tequila on her breath and move closer to the edge of the booth. If she doesn’t stop, I’m going to run out of ro—
Her red-tipped fingers dance up my jean-covered thigh and I snatch up her wrist before she can go any farther. “Do. Not. Touch. Me,” I sneer, slowly turning my head towards her.
She has the good sense to shrink back from my unrelenting glare and I toss her wrist away from me. Looking back towards the dance floor, I growl low in my throat. Oh goodie. My own personal horror movie is still playing.
I tell myself that I can’t look away because I’m just being protective over a friend. Yeah, a friend I want to do many things to that don’t include just “watching.”
No. No. I’m only doing this because I need to make sure she’s okay. Safe. It’s definitely not because I’m obsessed with her or anything. You fucking dirty little liar.
Whatever the reason—real or delusional—this little “show” is going to have to come to an end. For his sake, he better not try and fight her on it when she inevitably walks away.
I’m not usually a violent man.
‘Usually’ being the key word here.
And while I don’t consider myself a complete saint either, I’m not out here constantly looking for something I can put my fist through. I just so happen to look like a lad who thrives on those sorts of activities.
Dark hair.
Darker eyes.
Tattoos covering almost every inch of my body.
Yeah, one look from me and people tend to run in the opposite direction.
My eyes rake over the poor eejit’s form and a smirk pulls at my lips. Oh he looks like a runner alright.
I’m so honed in on what’s happening on the dance floor that I don’t notice my unwanted companion has yet to vacate my personal bubble until it’s popped. I stiffen at the feel of her breath coasting over my neck and the uncomfortable pressure of her stiff chest against my arm.
My jaw ticks and I peel my eyes away to look at her. “Can I ask you something?”
She smiles in triumph that I’m not immediately dismissing her again and bites her lip with a nod. “You can ask me anything you want, baby.”
I cringe internally at the pet name. “Do you understand what ‘do not touch me’ means?”
Her confidence vanishes and she jolts back, blinking her heavily-lined eyes in shock and slight confusion. “Wha—”
“It’s something that everyone should know. Well, anyone with a lick of common sense. But even then it’s also more of an unspoken rule. Something that many people fight for because of people like you who seem to think it doesn’t apply to them.”
Her mouth opens and closes before she finally finds her wavering voice. “I don’t—”
“Why don’t I give you an even bigger hint since you’ve either completely missed or just blatantly ignored the previous ones.
I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you near me.
And I sure as all hell don’t want you to keep trying to push yourself on me.
I’m. Not. Interested. I wasn’t when you first came up here, I haven’t been since, and I won’t be in the future. Now if you’d kindly fuck off.”
I know I sound like a dick. I tend to when I’m uncomfortable, which happens more often than not. But if it gets the job done, like getting this woman as far away from me as possible, then I’ll be the dick who ruined her New Year’s celebration.
I don’t give her the chance to recover from my rant and shift my eyes back to the real reason I’ve stuck around this club all night. Fiery blue eyes laced with simmering—wait, is that jealousy? No. It can’t be.
I blink and it’s gone before I can decipher if I really saw it there in the first place. My jaw ticks and I tilt my head in question. She lifts a single eyebrow in return while mine furrow at the glint in her eye.
Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do something you will regret.
I don’t know who I’m talking about more, me or her. But either way, my silent compellings crumble when she twists in the arsehole’s arms and wraps her arms around his shoulders.
I shoot up out of my seat when his hands slide over her and squeeze her arse. The woman who still hasn’t left goes sprawling onto the other side of the booth with a cry of horror. In my periphery, I see her scramble to her feet.
Where she goes after that, I don’t know nor care. The only thing I do care about is currently driving me closer and closer to the edge of sanity with each passing moment she’s wrapped around another man.
My pulse skyrockets when his face tilts down to try and meet hers, but I get a slight reprieve when she turns her head away at the last second.
My hands fist at my sides and I’m battling between going over there and throwing her over my shoulder or pulling the fire alarm that’s five feet from me so that the cold water rains down on this whole thing.
But seeing as it’s a holiday and all, I cling to the minuscule amount of holiday cheer so I don’t ruin everyone else’s night.
Nope. The only one who’s deserving and about to feel my wrath is her. So option one it is.
I take a step in her direction only to pause when someone calls out my name. Jace walks up the stairs to our booth, hand in hand with his fiancé, Kinsley. She leans into his side and her hand raises to smother a yawn before dropping to cover her stomach.
I may be starring in my own personal nightmare right now, but it doesn’t come close to what these two have been through. Yet, they made it. They’re here. Together. Engaged and growing their already lovely family.
There’s no better example of two soulmates than my best friend and his girl. We all knew it when they first met and it was confirmed when the universe brought her back into his life all these years later.
Jace wraps his arm around her shoulder and flashes me a ‘don’t be pissed’ look. I level him with a returning ‘then don’t piss me off’ one. “Mate.”
He winces at my daring tone. “We’re going to head out.”