3
3
Me: Where are you?
I crane my neck to look around at the other tables, knowing Win won’t be on the dance floor. He’s too cool for that. Like, way too cool.
Win: I’m in the back
There’s a set of double doors in the far corner of the club, guarded by security and kind of hidden behind the swarm of dancing bodies. Of course he’s in the back. I take a sip of tequila before sending my reply.
Me: I’ll come say hi
Win: No rush
Win: I’ll send security to escort you
Me: In a minute . . . I’ll find my way
“Girl.” Maya’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Who are you texting?” She narrows her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s John.”
“Nah.” I smile as I put the phone down. “It’s Win.”
She’s clearly impressed, as her red lips form a little circle as she says, “Oh . . .”
He doesn’t need any more introduction. People have deep respect for Win around here. Win’s untouchable. A successful investor, he always looks smart and sharp. I love being out with him and seeing the way the room clings to his every word. In the time I’ve known him, Win’s helped generate so much business for me. I think of him as a friend, but there’s always an air of mystery around him too. My curiosity makes me really want to solve it.
Anyway, everyone here knows that when Win speaks, you stop and listen.
Or, if you’re into suave guys in their late twenties, you stop and drool. And even if you’re not, I’ve never come across anyone who’s immune to his charm.
“I wanna dance!” Valerie stands and smooths down her tight white dress. “Come on! I didn’t come out looking this hot just to sit at a table all night. Let’s celebrate!”
“Amen, sister.” Maya jumps up, too, and I laugh with Jessie as we join them.
The thump of the bass vibrates up from the dance floor and straight through my sparkly heels. With security standing close by, we party with everyone else, throwing our hands up in time with the music and singing extra loud when Maya requests our favorite song. We dance with old friends and greet new faces under the flash of the club lights, grinding and swaying, the haze of stage smoke pouring over us before the DJ releases a stream of glittering confetti into the air.
After a few songs, one of the black-suited security guys taps me on the shoulder and directs me over to the double doors at the back of the club.
“Where are you going?” Val shouts above the music.
I point to the doors. “I’ll be back—I’m gonna say hi to Win!”
The guys escort me through the crowd to another set of doors guarded by more security. They push them open onto a whole other party in an almost identical back room. The dance floor vibrates with music too.
“Oh, look! Is that Princess?” someone asks as we walk by.
In the center of the room, Win, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, lounges at his regular table. His brown hair is pristine as always, his skin glowing, and his jawline sharp. Just looking at him makes my knees shake a bit, but I straighten my back and smile. Bottles of expensive alcohol surround him and his friends, and he’s deep in conversation with another important-looking guy when we approach. His eyes drift, and when he sees me, Win stops his sentence short and stands up, a smile breaking as he pushes off of the booth and walks over.
“Princess! Happy release day, superstar. You’re shining tonight. I saw all the press coverage online.”
I don’t miss the way everyone’s eyes follow us. The girls hanging around Win try to look casual as they move to stay in his orbit but he’s too much of a gentleman to react, which only makes them want him more. Or maybe he’s already taken . . . I don’t actually know if he’s dating anyone. If he is, she must match his energy—probably comes from the same kind of successful family, the same kind of lifestyle. When it comes to a life partner he wouldn’t have it any other way, I’m sure. I wonder for a brief moment if I match his energy . . .
“Thank you, Win.” He leans in for a hug. He’s so tall, and his broad shoulders are huge inside the suit jacket, so I’m swamped by his big arms until he pulls back. “Are you having a good night?”
Win looks down at my dress, approval in his dark eyes as he says, “Yeah, it’s going great. I invited a few friends, hope you don’t mind. They’re all people you should get to know.” I made sure Kimi and Wayne would have Win situated tonight. I was so happy when he said he’d come; I wanted to make sure he was impressed. He reaches out to lift a shot of what looks like tequila from a tray one of the bottle servers is holding and hands the glass to me, his Rolex glinting gold against his tanned arm where his sleeve pulls up a little.
“Of course.” I glance at his busy table, at the people standing around it. I know he could tell me the name of each and every person in here if I asked.
“Actually, I’m glad you came to see me.” He places a huge hand on my shoulder and guides me forward, over to the guy he was talking to before. “Last time we spoke, I told you about Zack, an old friend of mine?”
“Yeah! I didn’t realize he’d be here tonight.”
“Well, let me introduce you. He’s a great guy. We’ll set a meeting to discuss venture ideas, see where it leads.”
As he introduces us, I’m amazed at how fast he works. It was only yesterday, while we were facetiming before the midnight release, that Win mentioned he wanted to connect me with Zack for potential future opportunities.
If only more people in this industry were like Win.
While Zack and I exchange details, Win sends a group of glamorous women on their way, acknowledging each with a flattering compliment or a dazzling smile. He knows how to make women swoon but manages to keep a polite boundary at the same time.
“I need to head back now,” I say. “But thank you so much for coming, guys. Hit me up tomorrow.”
“Anytime, Princess.” Win shrugs as if it’s no big deal. We hug again before I leave, and he says with a handsome grin, “Go enjoy your big night. You earned it.”
Sure did.
Jessie and Val are still on the dance floor when I get back, and they pull me in to party hard for another half hour. The place is packed with more bodies now, and the music is much faster. I recognize a lot of faces amid the flashing lights. My glam team, who promised they’d show up, are partying, enjoying the bottles of champagne and tequila too. Angel waves at me when I meet his eye.
“Great party, Princess!” a voice calls from behind me.
“Congratulations on the release!” another shouts as we dance, but they don’t come over.
Mostly, everyone sticks by the people they came with, having a great time in their own little bubbles. I’ve gotten used to it. That’s Hollywood. It’s one of the reasons your team becomes your closest friends, your own little bubble to float through it all with.
“Hey!” Jessie grips my arm while we dance and points to a darkened corner of the dance floor. “Check it out.”
I follow her gaze and glimpse a couple making out against the wall, a blond head of hair buried deep in the neck of a girl with long auburn curls. A girl whose leg lifts off the ground when the guy grips the top of her thigh so I see a flash of red-soled heels as the strobe lights pass over them. A girl who digs her red-painted stiletto nails into the guy’s hair as she pulls his mouth back to hers.
A girl I’d recognize anywhere, even when she’s trying not to be seen.
“Maya’s getting laid tonight,” Valerie shouts across the dance floor at me, pointing in their direction with a giggle.
“Scandalous.” I laugh back, words arriving breathlessly.
I kind of wish I had someone special to share tonight with, and I can’t help but wonder if John hadn’t shown up with that other girl would something have happened between us? I know we broke up for good reasons, but I can’t help feeling like there’s a part of me missing without him. Our chemistry is still undeniable and even through the tension my mind and body always gravitate toward him. My stream of thoughts breaks as Maxi—a basketball player who took me on a date forever ago—comes up to say hi. He’s tall and cute in a lanky kind of way, and not cocky like most athletes. Long and hot like a summer’s day, I’ll bet, Maya said at the time. Maxi is gorgeous and sweet and all, but . . . I don’t know. It just wasn’t the right time, or maybe it was too hard to align our schedules, but we kind of fizzled. That seems to happen with everyone—except John. And although maybe we’re better apart, I miss him so much.
“We should grab dinner sometime to celebrate and catch up. It’s been too long,” Maxi says over the music.
Part of me hopes John can see us. I almost lean in just to put on a show in case he’s watching, but that wouldn’t be fair to Maxi.
“I’d love to catch up—” I hesitate, knowing deep down I have no interest in going out with anyone right now. My wounds from John haven’t healed yet. “But I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, Maxi. I’m not looking to see anyone right now. You’re great, and I’m sure you could have your pick of any girl in here tonight,” I tell him, meaning it.
He seems surprised and impressed by my response. “Thank you for being honest. If only more people were like you.” His smile and sincerity make me feel a little more guilty, but proud of myself. I’m going to stay true to who I am, no matter what.
With a slightly awkward good-bye, Maxi leaves us to dance and makes his way to a sexy brunette who had been staring at him during our conversation.
I glide my attention over face after face as I move to the music, but there’s too much alcohol swimming in my brain for me to give a damn about anything other than dancing, swaying, and moving with my best friends.
I don’t know how much time passes but we eventually return to the table a little more than tipsy. There’s so much happening around us, so many people pushing to get in, that Wayne and Kimi are having to approve guests and kick out any randoms. I know everyone sitting at our table, but not very well. Most of them are only acquaintances who conveniently like to hang out whenever my career is considered “hot.” Skimming over them as we approach, I’m trying to remind myself of their names and how we met, when my heart stops dead in my chest.
What?
I notice the pretty brunette first, and I recognize her from somewhere, but . . . where? I’m searching for the answer when it appears right next to her, in the set of blue eyes already staring back.
Brown hair.
Lazy yet intoxicating smile.
Short stubble on the jaw I’ve kissed maybe a thousand times.
My pulse comes alive again, and beneath my rib cage, it’s thumping.
“What the hell is he doing at our table?” Val hisses.
“Oh man.” Jessie groans under her breath when she sees him.
I pull myself together and form my expression into a perfect, happy mask. My girls are protective of me when it comes to anyone, but especially John. They don’t want to see me in such a low place again, and I can’t blame them, but I can’t help it. My self-preservation disappears when he’s around.
“Hey.” I try my hardest to stay unfazed as I slide into my seat beside them.
I invited him, but with everything that’s happened between us and after not seeing him for nearly a month, I didn’t think he’d actually come.
“Hi, Princess! Love the party!” The girl beams at me.
John’s staring at his drink as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. I know him so well—tension so obvious in his shoulders, the vein in his neck that’s highlighted by the bright moving lights. His fingers grip the glass but he’s trying to seem detached.
“Hey,” I say a little louder, and his eyes shine electric as he lifts his chin in greeting beside me. “Thanks for coming, John.”
This pulls him out of his thoughts. “Great to see you, Princess. Congratulations on the release. I’m so happy for you.”
Is it just me or does he sound a little sad?But that doesn’t make sense.
I’m over it.
We’re over it.
Princess, you liar.
“Thanks.” I hold my smile so he won’t see the questions forming behind my eyes. So many freaking questions. Like how’s he been? Has he been happy? Does he miss me at all? Is this his new girlfriend?
The brunette smiles up at him, a twinkle in her dark eyes, and it’s like a pinch straight to my heart. John’s classic cute, like the guy everyone crushes on in high school, but he’s so chill and in his own zone he probably isn’t even aware of her puppy-dog stare, lovestruck and smitten, beside him. I wonder if that’s how I used to look around him.
God, I hope not.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, reaching across to place a hand on her arm. “I should’ve asked your name. Princess.”
“Emma.” She seems to relax. “It’s great to meet you. I love your new song, I’ve been playing it on repeat. It’s so cool to be here. Seriously, amazing party.”
“Thanks. I love your hair. Is it all natural?”
She nods, her eyes brightening even more from my compliment. I feel a little sorry for her. She seems too na?ve for this kind of place. As much as I hate that she’s with him, I never want to be the type of girl who’s mean to other girls over a boy, not even the love of my life.
“Hey, if you pull this piece back”—I reach to move the loose curl covering her brow—“it really makes your eyes pop.”
Emma catches the strand when I let go and tests it out for herself, checking her hair out in the front camera of her cell phone. The whole time I’m aware of John’s warm breath on my cheek, the heat of his chest radiating from his shirt where I lean across his body.
“Oh my god! It looks so good, thank you!” She’s giddy and it makes me feel bad for the way I want her to move away from John. Nothing against her; I can’t help it.
I move my attention back to John, sensing his hesitation as I straighten up. “She’s so pretty,” I say only loud enough for him to hear.
He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “Um, yeah. Right,” he says quietly, clearly not comfortable. I’m not exactly comfortable, either, so I can’t find it within myself to sympathize with him. He brought her here, not me.
“Emma and I are just friends,” John says, making sure she and everyone around us can hear him. Emma looks a little disappointed, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel good to have him publicly declare it like that.
“I didn’t ask,” I say as casually as I can manage. Our playful sarcastic banter has always been something I loved about our dynamic.
“I know, but I wanted to make sure you knew before you got the wrong idea,” he practically whispers in my ear, sending a wave of electricity through me.
I lean back, pushing at his shoulder, hoping he can’t read my face and see how affected I am. It’s way, way too early in the night to get distracted by him.
I meet Val’s eye across the table. She smirks into her glass of tequila, living for the drama but ready to pounce on him if he makes one wrong move.
Thankfully, Jessie saves us from any painful small talk as she dives into a story about her week and the nightmare she had studying for her finals. It’s a relief to have the distraction of something I actually care about. Val joins in, too, and pretty soon we’re sucked into conversation about flying first class and Val’s dad’s obsession with private jets. I know Jessie can’t relate—most people can’t—but she gives it her best shot anyway, asking all the right questions the way she always knows how to. If comfort was a person, it would be Jessie.
I’m lost, trying so hard to concentrate on Val’s story above the music, when I feel the touch of cold glass against my fingers. I look up to find John handing me a drink. He pauses for a moment after I take it, his thumb pressed against the pulse point of my wrist. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps on refilling the others’ glasses.
But he gave me mine first . . .
He leans in close a few minutes later, while I’m busy taking a sip, attempting to let the sweet burn of the drink take over and trying not to get too deep into thinking about our history.
“I would never bring another girl to your release party, Princess. I hope you know that,” he murmurs. “And you know how it is. She knows someone I know, and she’s really a fan of yours so I said I’d bring her. She has a lot of followers, too, so her posting will be good for the song.”
I swallow and nod. Is he wearing the cologne I bought him? Those piercing blue eyes watch me as if he’s waiting for some sort of signal—the slightest reaction.
“She seems nice, and it’s none of my business who you date, but thanks for the info,” I shoot back, fighting an internal battle to move away so I don’t breathe in the familiar scent or move closer to get more of it.
He holds my stare for a second too long before he downs the rest of his tequila. The urge to tell him to slow down on the drinks so early in the night is strong but my will is stronger, for once.
I turn to Jessie.
“So, where’d you get this dress again?” I ask, admiring the blue chiffon.
Although Jessie answers, all I can focus on is my pulse thump, thump, thumping again inside my chest. Because John’s fingertips drift lightly across my shoulder as he moves his hand away.
And I know for damned sure he didn’t do it accidentally.
What does this mean?