Four
Harper doesn’t hesitate as she weaves through the crowd. I trail behind, silently praying my heels don’t betray me.
I glance around, impressed. “This place is nice.”
“I know,”
she says smugly. “That's why I picked it.”
We grab two stools at the bar, and I slide onto mine, trying not to tug at my dress again. It’s red, satin, and entirely Harper’s fault.
“If you don’t wear this tonight,”
she’d warned earlier, “I’m disowning you.”
I'd rolled my eyes at the time, but now, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall behind the bar, I have to admit she was right. The dress fits perfectly, making me look far more confident than I feel.
Tonight, I don’t feel like the girl Daniel left behind. Tonight, I feel bold.
Or maybe it’s just the two margaritas I had at home before we left.
Harper orders drinks, and the bartender winks at both of us—individually.
Wow, he’s casting a wide net.
Harper and I exchange an amused look instead of rolling our eyes.
When her phone buzzes, she scans the screen. “They’re on their way.”
I tilt my head. “Are you seriously trying to get me laid tonight?”
“God, I hope so,”
Harper says, grinning shamelessly. “You need it.”
I laugh, shaking my head, but the humor fades as a shiver rolls down my spine, instinctive and unshakable. It’s that prickle you get when you know someone’s watching you.
I look around.
Nothing.
Until I glance toward the end of the bar, and that’s when I see him.
Sweet baby Jesus.
Who is this man, and what luxury magazine did he fall out of?
He’s sitting at the end of the bar, dark hair casually tousled, white dress shirt stretched over broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that should be illegal. His jaw is strong and sharp, his gaze dark, quietly intense. He looks like trouble. Expensive, irresistible trouble.
Our eyes lock, and my stomach flips with a sudden, dizzy rush of adrenaline.
For three agonizing seconds, I’m trapped in his stare, and then he turns away, sipping his drink as if nothing happened.
“You’re blushing,”
Harper whispers, pulling me from my daze.
I grab a coaster and fan myself. “It’s hot in here,” I lie.
“Uh-huh.”
Moments later, Eli walks up, slides an arm around Harper’s waist, and presses a kiss to her cheek. She beams at him like he personally hung the moon. Behind him is Miles, who I know vaguely. He’s funny, charming, and in a long-distance relationship so completely off limits. But the two other men with them, I haven’t met before.
“This is Sienna,”
Harper introduces me. “Sienna, this is Theo and Jordan.”
Theo is tall, bright-eyed, and polished in a tailored blazer that screams trust-fund trouble. Jordan, by contrast, is boyish and charmingly rugged, with a dimple and messy blond hair. Both are undeniably attractive, but neither sparks anything more than polite interest.
We exchange hellos, and I try to stay engaged, but my eyes betray me, flicking to the man at the far end of the bar again.
Harper catches my stare immediately. “You okay?”
I clear my throat, refocusing. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Her gaze follows mine, and a knowing smile creeps onto her face. She leans close. “Who’s the guy?”
“No one.”
Her grin widens. “Sure.”
She nudges my arm, leaning closer. “Okay, well, I give you permission to ditch us if tall, dark, and broody is the distraction you need.”
My cheeks heat. “I’m not—”
“Yeah, yeah,”
she interrupts with a dismissive wave. “Just promise me you’ll do something crazy tonight. For once.”
The group chatter fades as Harper and Eli talk softly between themselves, clearly in their own world. I sip my drink, pretending to be interested in Theo’s story about his terrible boss, but my eyes wander again.
This time, tall-dark-and-broody is looking right back at me, expression unreadable, eyes dangerously intense.
My pulse spikes.
I don’t do this. I’ve never done this. Even the thought of approaching a stranger usually sends me into cardiac arrest, but tonight, desperation overrides self-preservation.
Tonight, I want trouble.
∞∞∞
Three drinks in, and everything is warm. My limbs, my head, the space between my ribs where the stress usually sits. It’s all pleasantly hazy, softened by alcohol and good company.
Harper stretches, her eyes bright with tipsy energy. “Okay, enough of this. Let’s go somewhere with music.”
Miles raises a brow. “We’re in a bar with music.”
She waves him off. “No, I mean music we can actually dance to. Let’s go to Ember.”
Theo grins. “I’m always down for bad decisions.”
Jordan chuckles. “Same. Let’s do it.”
I know this is the part where I should nod along, get up, let Harper pull me into whatever chaos she’s mapped out for the night, but as much as I’ve laughed and genuinely enjoyed their company, I don’t want to go.
Honestly, I think Theo and Jordan could smell the I’m not that interested on me from five minutes into our conversation. They were polite about it, still flirty in a casual, easygoing way, but there was no heat.
While any sane, logical person would take that as a cue to call it a night and go home, there’s something bold thrumming in my veins, and it’s pointing me in the direction of the guy at the end of the bar.
Which is stupid because I left my balls at home, and there’s exactly zero chance of me walking over to him. No, I’m just going to finish my drink, put on my coat, and leave. Like the reasonable, slightly tipsy adult that I am.
I push back from the bar. “I think I’m gonna sit this one out.”
Harper pouts. “No! You said you wanted to have fun.”
“And I did. This was fun.”
I pat her arm. “But I’m hitting my limit, and I have to be functional in the morning.”
“Boring. You’re boring.”
Elijah chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let her live, babe.”
She sighs but pulls me into a hug. “Fine, but next time, you’re not getting out of it.”
“Next time,”
I promise.
She pulls back, already reaching for her phone. “I’ll get you a cab.”
“Don’t bother. There’s a whole line of them right outside. I’ll be fine.”
She narrows her eyes like she’s not convinced but eventually relents. “Text me when you’re home.”
“Yes, Mom.”
She flips me off before grabbing Elijah’s hand, and just like that, they’re gone.
One by one, the others filter out after them, and suddenly, I’m alone.
Well, almost alone.
I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around my glass.
He’s still watching me. His gaze feels hot against my skin, sending warmth curling low in my belly. It feels exhilarating.
I glance down at my drink, my heart racing.
Am I really about to do this?
My gaze flicks back up. Our eyes meet. He’s waiting. Challenging.
A thrill shoots down my spine.
Fuck it.
I grab my bag and drink, toss my coat over my arm, and slide off the stool.
One step.
Then another.
Every nerve in my body screams with adrenaline.
I don’t stop until I’m standing right in front of him, close enough to catch the sharp, intoxicating scent of his cologne. I tilt my chin up, forcing bravery I do not feel.
I don’t think. I don’t plan. I just act.