The Best Number (Thirst Trap #1)

Prologue

Cassidy

“ T he best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” I tell my friend, Mel, as we sit and drink fruity cocktails. We’ve come to a singles’ night at The Thirst Trap, a bar close to my new apartment.

“After years of being married to one guy, it’s terrifying to think about getting under someone else.” She grimaces. “I’m sure I’m too old to be here. I’m a mother to an almost eighteen-year-old, for goodness’ sake.”

“Nonsense. You’re only forty. And you’re a smoke show, Mel. Trust me, I don’t think we are going to have any problems finding someone that wants you under them, or on top of them when you decide you’re ready to move on.”

She tucks a strand of her sandy blonde hair behind her ear as her gaze flickers around the room. It’s busy. There’s music playing as the people around us chat. Tables and chairs are arranged around the sides of the room to make space for a dance floor.

“I’m not sure I’m ready yet.” She licks her lips and swallows.

“I promise I’m not going to push you into anything. Let’s just stay curious. If an attractive person comes along and offers to put us under them, let’s at least consider the offer.” I give an encouraging smile.

“Okay, I’ll stay curious. But first I need another drink.”

“I’ll go. You stay here and keep the table. Same again?”

“Let’s try something different. Surprise me.” She smiles. It’s a promising sign. I’ve been worried about her. Mel and I have known each other for years, but our friendship grew a few months ago when our marriages failed. It’s been a godsend having a friend going through it at the same time as me. I’m glad she came out tonight. I’m on a mission to make her realise what a catch she is, and that she deserves to be happy.

I push through the crowd and lean on the bar, looking for the bartender. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen is serving someone further down. He. Is. Ripped. I wouldn't mind getting under him. He’s got to be over six feet tall. His dark hair is shorter at the back and sides, with natural waves on top. His corded arms flex as he pours a pint, and a honeycomb-shaded tattoo sleeve on his forearm catches my attention. I can’t stop myself from staring.

“Be right with you,” he calls over the chatter as he throws a wink in my direction. He charges the previous customer and heads towards me just as there’s a strong nudge from behind me as a guy tries to jump the queue and get served before me.

The barman frowns. “Back up. Give the lady some space. She’s next, then I’ll serve you.” The pushy guy grumbles, but space opens up behind me as the barman stares him down. Fair enough too—it’s clear he means business and would have no problem leapfrogging across the bar and evicting pushy guy. “What would you like?”

I blink, clearing my impure thoughts about what I want to do with this man, and smile at him. “Two mojitos, please. And some water—I better hydrate myself before I start dancing.” He smirks at me before mixing the cocktails. I bite my lip, appreciating the veins on his hand as he crushes the mint, noting the lack of a wedding band. Should I see what time he gets off his shift?

He places the drinks on a tray in front of me, adding a bottle of water and two smaller glasses. I hold out my bank card to pay and he offers me the card machine, leaning closer so I can tap it. “Enjoy your evening. And your dancing.”

I pull in a deep breath. Warmth rises in my cheeks as I stare into his hazel eyes. “Thanks,” I respond breathlessly. He gives me another wink before switching his commanding gaze to the guy behind me.

I make my way back over to Mel. She’s scrolling on her phone but puts it back in her bag as I lay the tray on the table and hand her a drink.

“I went with mojitos. Mixed by the hottest man I’ve ever seen. Tall, dark, tatted and ripped.” I place the back of my hand on my forehead, feigning a swoon. Mel stretches her neck to see past the crowd to the bar.

“Dammit, I can’t see him.”

“You can get the next round and see for yourself. Although I’m tempted to call dibs.”

“I thought you wanted me to get under someone?”

“Yeah, but I want to climb him like a tree.” We clink glasses with a giggle.

Twerking like my life depends on it, I try to do my best slut drop as a rap song plays on the speakers. As I raise a hand in the air and dip down low, I get lower than I ever thought possible. The fabric of my skirt gives way at the back and rips. Shit! Panic rises. I look over at Mel, but she’s chatting with one of the two guys we’ve been with for a while. His friend reaches out his hand to help me up.

“What happened? You okay?” he shouts over the loud music.

“Yeah, just gonna head to the ladies. I’ll be back.” I give him a wink, trying to cover up my embarrassment at the wardrobe malfunction.

Shuffling around the edges of the dance floor, gripping the two sides of my skirt together, I move towards the back of the bar to the illuminated sign for the toilets and disappear into the ladies to assess the damage.

There’s a split in my skirt from the waistband down to the back slit. It’s now a waistband and two bits flapping at the back. With the thong I’m wearing, there’s no way I’ll be able to get home without flashing my backside. Fuck! Why is this happening to me? Why can’t things go smoothly?

I stand there, unsure what to do. Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let myself cry. Mascara running down my cheeks and a split skirt? No thanks. I try to twist the skirt around so the split is at the side, showing an eye-watering amount of thigh but still better than flashing my thong to the whole bar. I head out of the bathroom, sucking in a deep breath. As I walk back to the bar, a door to my left opens, and out steps the hot barman.

He looks over as I approach and gives me a smile. “Alright?”

I bite my lip, trying to decide if the embarrassment of asking him for help would outweigh the shame of going back to the bar to find Mel.

“Actually, I could use some help. Is there somewhere quiet we could go?” I realise it might sound like I’m coming on to him. “It’s not anything weird, I promise.” I gesture to the split in my skirt. His eyes track down, widening when he sees how much of my thigh is on show.

He opens the door he just came out of and gestures inside. “Come in here.”

I follow him to what looks like a part storeroom, part break room. “There’s some lost property in my office. I’ll grab it and see if there’s anything you can wear.” His voice is low and deep. I give a grateful nod and a small smile as I look around at the crates and boxes stacked neatly against one wall and the set of old-school lockers that fill another. I almost snicker at the cock and balls graffitied on one of the doors.

He’s back quickly, carrying a cardboard box with ‘Lost Property’ scrawled on the side.

“It’s insane the stuff we find when everyone goes home.” He puts the box on the table and pulls out two odd and very different shoes, looking at them with a quirked eyebrow. I laugh, inching closer as he rummages through. He pulls out a t-shirt and then what appears to be leather chaps. “I guess these won’t hide anything more than your ruined skirt,” he says with a grimace. “Ah-ha. Try this.” He pulls out a dark grey mackintosh coat. It looks like something a flasher would wear. But hey, beggars can't be choosers in this situation . I take it from him, holding it up to assess its suitability. “Do you think that could work?” he asks.

I swing it round my shoulders to try it on, sighing with relief when it closes around my middle, the belt knotted to keep it wrapped around me.

“Perfect,” I tell him with a grin.

“If I saw you in the street, I’d wonder if you were about to make someone’s lucky night, turning up in sexy lingerie under a raincoat.”

“Unlikely. But thank you. This should get me home safe and sound.”

There’s decent lighting in here, giving me the opportunity to stare at him. And he stares right back. My heart races. My tongue darts out to wet my lips and his eyes track the movement. A bang on the open door causes me to flinch. “Boss, can you come and change a barrel? Or take my place at the bar while I do it? We’re swamped out there.” A small blonde woman leans into the room, eyeing us both with curiosity.

“Sure thing, Abby. I’ll be right there.” He holds our stare a moment longer, but I lose any nerve I had about acting on this insane chemistry while one of his staff members is right there waiting for him. “All good?” he checks, brow raised. I nod and he gestures for me to walk out in front of him. I sigh as I head back to the bar to find Mel and fill her in.

The next morning, I make my way back to my new apartment from Mel’s place. It doesn’t quite feel like home yet, as I only moved in on Monday. But it’s my own space, away from my shitty ex.

With the key to my flat comes the key to my freedom and I want to make the most of it. That’s what last night had been. I wonder, again, if I should have tried my luck with that hot barman. But I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into anything. Last night was about letting my hair down and having some fun with Mel. Now I want to get settled into my new place and crack on with work to make sure I can make the rent payments each month.

The sound of low, husky voices drifts my way as I step off the elevator and through to the hallway where my front door is. I haven’t met my neighbour yet. The lady downstairs said he’s gorgeous and I want to see if I agree with her.

As I turn the corner, two men are standing by the front door of number twenty-two—my neighbour’s flat. A tall, dark-haired guy, with his back to me, grabs the other blonde guy and pulls him in for a kiss. They haven’t seen me yet. Undoubtedly, they’ll notice me when I open my door, but I don’t want them to think I’m spying. Fuck—they look hot together. It’s far too easy to imagine myself in the middle. Blonde guy moans and mutters what sounds like an invite to come back in for another round, but the other man declines with a shake of his head.

I clear my throat loudly to show them they aren’t alone. They break apart, turning in my direction. I’m sure my eyes bug out my head, cartoon style, as I realise that the tall dark one is the hot bartender from last night. I flick my gaze from one to the other. Am I in a dream where every man I meet is desirable enough to be a Hollywood star?

The blonde one grins and speaks up, “You must be my new neighbour? Hey, I’m Jack.” He strides towards me, his hand outstretched to shake mine.

“Er, hey, I’m Cass… Cassidy. Lovely to meet you, Jack.” My gaze shoots to the barman watching us. He spots me looking and gives me a raised eyebrow, before glancing down at the shoes dangling from my hand.

“This is Tom,” Jack tells me. I wait for him to confirm their relationship, but he doesn’t give me that information.

“Hey,” Tom says.

“Do you live here too?”

“Just visiting. Good to see you got home safely.” He raises his chin with a smirk. “Nice coat, Mac.”

If Jack senses anything odd about our interaction, he says nothing.

“We should go out for a drink or something, Cass,” Jack declares. “I’d love to get to know you better, neighbour.” From anyone else’s lips, I might have thought he was being sleazy, but his smile is kind and I get no creepy vibes from him.

“That sounds good.” I take my key out and unlock my front door, eager to get inside and get showered and changed. “It’s lovely to meet you both.” I give them an awkward wave before shutting the door.

What a beautiful pair, I sigh to myself. Thank goodness I didn’t throw my hat in the ring with Tom last night. Probably a good thing anyway, unless they play with girls too. Jeez, Cassidy, get your mind out of the gutter . I need to focus on my work and getting divorced, not my kinky threesome fantasies.