Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

Since he’d died two months ago, her heart had been aching and empty. Ophelia hadn’t been a picnic to be around. She wondered if guys were coming onto her because they liked the challenge, not because they were actually interested.

She seriously needed to start re-evaluating her social circle.

But God forbid she missed the banquets and multi-million dollar house parties. Her mother would have her head. Nothing was more annoying than Lorna Davis on a rant about preserving the family’s reputation. Sometimes being an only child sucked. The role of golden child or disappointment fell on her alone.

Her phone beeped. She looked down, wondering who’d bothered to text her. Other than Chloe and Priya, who she’d grown up with, everyone else had faded away after her father had died and she’d shut down.

The name Jason popped up on the screen. She scrunched her nose.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

That made one of them. In fact, she was going to do everything in her power to avoid him. She felt bad the second she thought it. He was a nice guy—just completely clueless about how to talk to women. And yeah, maybe a little self-absorbed. If she were in a better place, maybe she’d give him some pointers. But right now, she couldn’t stomach the idea of flirting. Or happiness. Or feeling anything at all.

She shoved her phone in her purse then looked at her friends. “Let’s get this over with. I’m in desperate need of a buzz.”

“And a man to screw,” Chloe added.

Ignoring her, Ophelia made for the door. “I’ll drive.”

Priya shuffled behind her, muttering, “Why bother? We know you won’t be playing DD.”

There was a vague sense of guilt, but she pushed it away. She’d been a little freer with her alcohol consumption lately but it wasn’t as if she was out of control. That was just what people did at parties. Besides, nobody could blame her for wanting to feel numb once in a while.

“Shh,” Chloe scolded Priya. “I’ll drive us home. I’m on a body cleanse anyway.”

They piled into Ophelia’s SUV—Priya in the back and Chloe in the passenger seat. Her two friends prattled on about the latest gossip but Ophelia’s mind hazed over. She let herself get caught in the familiar blank space between feeling incredibly lost and just not caring.

It was a place she was finding herself in more and more lately.

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. Music pulsed, vibrating the floor beneath her feet. The inside of the mansion had been transformed into a club. Servers poured drinks as lights flashed to the rhythm of the rave music.

Ophelia pushed her way through the dancing crowd, grabbing a drink from the bar on her way. She chugged it quickly. The faster she could get a buzz going, the better. She was having a hard time being able to tolerate this shit lately.

Chloe and Priya motioned they were headed to the dance floor. Ophelia nodded and waved them away. Instead of following like she might have done at one time, she made her way to the sliding door that led to the patio.

Outside, girls in tiny bikinis strutted by the pool. The music was muted at least and she was glad for the break in the assault to her ears.

Christmas lights hung on the patio railing and above on the canopies. Two guys and a girl were by the waterfall, laughing and drinking. Men lingered on the side of the pool, flirting with anyone who happened to have a chest above a B cup. Hers barely made the cut.

She sighed. Sometimes she felt like these were nothing more than upscale frat parties.

Most of the attendees were the offspring of celebrities and moguls. Spoiled rich kids who handled the pressure of the spotlight by doing dumb things that embarrassed their parents. At one point she’d fit in here among the designer clothes and expensive jewelry. But now, she didn’t know where she belonged.

Before committing to a lingering spot, she scanned the patio for Jason. He was exactly what a girl like her should want at this stage in her life. Tall, dark, and handsome was an understatement. He was beautiful. The kind of man gorgeous women wanted to make babies with. Dark skin, golden eyes, a wide toothy smile, and dimples. Fucking dimples! He had a stable financial situation, thanks to his wealthy movie director parents. Speaking of his parents . . . They were well-loved and respected in her social circle.

Really, what more could a girl ask for?

She didn’t know why but he just wasn’t doing it for her. It wasn’t only his lack of conversational skills. Even his suave appearance didn’t get her libido going. At this point, she wondered if she even had a libido. Was nothing working down there? Maybe her girly bits were broken. When everyone else’s tingled for Tom Hardy or Chris Hemsworth, hers just went meh.

Maybe she should see a doctor.

She almost laughed out loud. Of all the things she should see a doctor about, not getting turned on by hot guys was last on the priority list.

A server came by with a tray of mojitos. She grabbed one and sipped it hastily.

“There you are,” a voice boomed from behind her.

Dread crept into her gut, despite the alcohol. She swigged the last sip and turned to face Jason.