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Lena
Tequila burned down my throat like tiny betrayal in liquid form.
I shouldn’t be out. I should be at home, curled up in my apartment, plotting subtle ways to make Ethan regret every single bad decision he’s ever made. I was stupid to go to his apartment to surprise him because apparently he’s my fiancée and we haven’t had much sex in a while and then I found him with another woman, and with their legs tangled. My engagement ring shining like a cruel joke on my finger.
I should have cried. I should have screamed. Instead, I froze, my brain on vacation while my heart registered that stab of betrayal. And now, here I am, with my heels in hand, stumbling into a downtown club because apparently the only cure for a cheating fiancé is loud music, neon lights, and enough alcohol to flood a small country. I needed to forget a three year relationship that ended with him cheating on me.
I grabbed a drink at the bar and downed it like it owed me my life back. It burned like hell and felt amazing. My fingers gripped the glass like it could erase the memory lodged in my chest. The bass thumped through my bones, my body swaying as if it knew better than my brain. It was exactly my kind of disaster night. God, I’m pathetic, aren’t I?
Somebody brushed my arm and it felt too delibrate. My stomach flipped. Oh, perfect. Club stranger #3 is trying to poison me now. Fantastic.
Before I could react, a shadow moved between me and the hand.
“Step back,” a deep, calm voice said.
I looked up. He wasn’t flashy and he didn’t smile, didn’t even bother meeting my eyes but my brain still screamed stop staring, you idiot. His hair was black, a little messy like he’d run his hand through it too many times, and his face was unfairly sharp in that calm, effortless way. Nothing about him was loud, yet my pulse jumped anyway.
Who the hell is this fucking handsome man?
He twisted the guy’s wrist, who yelped and disappeared into the crowd. My drink? Safe. My bag? Untouched. Miracle number one.
“You okay?” His voice was calm, confident and somehow, devastatingly sexy.
“I… I think so,” I said, trying not to shake. Lie. Lie like your life depends on it. Because it does.
He glanced at me, sharply, then drifted back into the crowd. But I couldn’t stop noticing him. He was lurking like a shadow but I couldn’t resist not checking him out.
By my fourth drink, I’d abandoned all restraint. I danced with my hair plastered to my forehead, laughter spilling out too loud and my hips brushing strangers, moving in ways that felt dangerously free and then he was behind me, close enough that heat prickled my skin.
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