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He hums in appreciation and steps even closer. My back is against the bar, and he’s standing in front of me. Another few inches and his body will be pressing into mine. “Are you here alone, Kate?” he asks in a lecherous voice.

Alone? I fucking hate that word. It frames my life.

I look up at him and narrow my eyes. “Why do you ask? Does it affect your next move?”

He chuckles quietly. “Well, if you’re here with another guy, then yes.”

“No guy with me. But I have no plans on leaving with someone tonight.”

I look over at Jensen again. He still has his hand above Red’s ass and his back firmly to me, like I don’t even exist.

“Can I do anything to change your mind?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t leave with strangers.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a stranger anymore.”

Fuck me, Kate. You really got yourself into something here.

I pat him on the shoulder and go to turn my back, but just as I do, I catch a flash of red moving across the bar.

He’s fucking taking her home.

Right in front of me.

Bastard.

I fight to close my gaping jaw at the audacity of this man just as he looks over his shoulder and throws me a wink and a goddamn grin.

His tousled dark hair falls over his tanned forehead, and his deep brown eyes sparkle with satisfaction. And when he throws me what I know is a faux sweet smile, the dimple in his right cheek pops. He’s twenty feet away from me, but I know it’s there. And it pisses me off.

He pisses me off.

Jensen Jones is officially at the top of my shit list.

But as I turn to face the bar fully and wave at the barman to bring me another drink, I wish I could hold onto my rage.

Through the mass of people rammed into Riley’s Bar, I can still make out the way he helps the redhead into her jacket and then throws his arm over her shoulder. The streetlights outside make it unmissable.

That really fucking hurts.

He really fucking hurts.

Vulnerability shoots through me. We might be part of the same friend group, and my best friend might be dating his captain, but I’ll never go near Jensen Jones again.

That man is dead to me.

CHAPTER ONE

MAY, EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER

KATE

“Hmmm, I think I’ve decided what to go for. The lobster thermidor looks great. What about you, sweetheart?” Tom slides his hand across the table and places it on top of mine. I look down at the tender connection, but I feel no affection.

What I do feel is terrible.

Tom is one of the kindest men I’ve ever met, and he deserves far more than I can offer him. He wants a wife and family, and he definitely wants to move things along with us after nine months of on-and-off dating.