Frustration blooms in my stomach, and I call for one more shot. Once I’ve gulped it down with a wince, I head onto the dance floor and close my eyes. The music holds me close, wrapping its beat around me, and pulling me this way and that.
I focus on my own movements, ignoring the crowd around me. I feel warmth at my back. I continue to move, ignoring whoever the hell it is trying to dance with me.
I’m lost to the rhythm when large hands land on my hips and whoever he is sways with me. A smile tilts on my lips at the way he holds me almost possessively.
The song changes and I spin around coming face-to-face with Colton watching me with a satisfied smirk on his perfect mouth. I step back, bumping into someone, and he pulls me closer, out of the way of everyone else. We’re inches apart. I can feel his breath, and I know he can feel mine.
I should move.
I want to move.
But I also don’t want to move.
“You have an attractive body,” he coos in my ear, sending goosebumps skittering across my skin. His breath fans over my cheek as he moves my hair out of the way, and I feel his lips brushing along the curve of my shoulder.
“Why are you doing this?” I whimper, my resolve being broken down brick by brick. I blame tequila. It’s been the bane of my existence since I learned to drink at twenty-one.
“Because I want you.” Even though his words feel sincere, I can’t allow myself to fall for it. I’ve heard promises before. They were all empty. I’ve also heard confessions and admissions from men, but I never allowed myself to be swept away.
Fairy tales are just that—made-up fiction. It’s not real life, and a girl like me doesn’t end up with a guy like Colton King. My palms land on his chest, and I feel every ridge and peak of his muscles. I push slightly. He allows me to step away.
His eyes, those strange teal orbs that seem endless, sparkle under the blue and purple lights. He watches me so intently that I feel it right down to my core. I don’t want to admit it, but he does affect me, far too much for me to be comfortable with him this close.
“I have to go,” I tell him quickly and race out of the club, ignoring him calling after me. When I reach the door, I step out into the cool night air and take a long, deep breath.
The breeze picks up my hair, whipping it around my face, and the coolness hits my heated skin, causing me to shiver. On the sidewalk, I flag down a cab and slip into the backseat.
When I glance back at the club, I see him at the door, watching me run away like goddamned Cinderella leaving the ball before midnight. Only I didn’t lose a shoe, because Colton knows where I work, and I’ll be seeing him again.
I’m not sure I’m ready for that. But I’ll do anything for my job—even sit in an interview with a man who steals my breath and heats my body like never before and try to ignore his flirtatious behavior.
Once I step through the door of my apartment, I sigh loudly, speaking to the empty room, “Why does he have to be so …” I shake my head, unsure of what I think he is. Beautiful? Perfect? Handsome? Brazen? The name of the underwear line suits him perfectly. I bet when he walks out of that nightclub this evening, he’ll have at least three women on his arms.
Jealousy niggles at my stomach, twisting it into a green-eyed monster. But I shove it down as I toe-off my shoes and make my way into the kitchen to grab a glass. Filling it with wine, I take a seat at my laptop to find a response from Ida.
Dear Crazy in Brooklyn,
It sounds to me like you need to focus on your job and know that you’re capable of anything. I’m guessing this is a dream job. If so, I would tell you to calm the hell down and take a long, deep breath. Then I’d allow you to have one drink. Anything more will only lead to chaos and bad decisions.
What I would also tell you is that you are in charge of your own destiny. And if this does change your career drastically, focus on that end goal, the promotion, the life-changing path on which you’re headed.
And also, if this in any way includes a man as a distraction—don’t get lured in. If he’s worth it, he’ll be there in the end.
How the hell would she know it involved a man? One that I can’t get out of my head, and one who's most certainly going to hang around until god knows when.