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Beckett might even be there, but I didn’t say anything about him. Leah seemed to forget him and so I needed to as well.

Leah grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the bar. When we were out of earshot of Steve, she squeezed me.

“Seriously, Mira, you should just hook up with Beckett. He was seriously into you and would probably be really hot in bed.”

“I don’t know...”

“Oh, you!” She crossed her arms and stood her ground. “Honestly, Mira. The longer you wait to have sex with someone, the harder it’ll be.”

“I want it nice and hard,” I said and snorted at the look on her face.

She laughed with me for a moment but then turned serious. “Find someone. Get rid of your new virginity. Free yourself and move on. You know you have to do this eventually. If you pick up someone you’ll never see again and have really hot but meaningless sex, it won’t be such a huge deal when you do meet someone you like.”

I took in a deep breath. There were days when I craved feeling a man inside of me, but it was so hard to imagine being with anyone. I fantasized about faceless men in my bed, making me come, and frequently woke up in the middle of the night, my body convulsing from the dream alone.

I needed a man. Bad.

Leah was right.

But Beckett? I wasn’t so sure he was the right one. Despite being hot as hell, he was far too close to what I was used to.

He was too much like Dan.

We arrived at Milano’s late, and the party was already in progress, the laser lights flashing, the dubstep blaring. People danced in clusters on the dance floor and the tables were packed with well-dressed and well-heeled men and women in their mid-twenties to late thirties. Waitresses in black miniskirts and white tops threaded their way through the tables to deliver drinks, and the VJ danced to his music on the far wall.

The music got to me right away and I wanted to dance and celebrate but we had to get a drink first and the only thing I drank at these places was beer or vodka coolers. I’d heard too many stories about women getting roofied to drink anything else.

I stood by the bar while Leah ordered and paid for our drinks. I ordered a local craft beer and she had a Bud Light. While I waited for her, I glanced around the bar and was startled when I saw Beckett. I recognized the dirty blond hair but instead of being unruly as it had been earlier, it was combed back and looked stylish instead of wild. Instead of wearing faded jeans and a leather bomber jacket, he wore an impeccable black suit, crisp white shirt and silky black tie. He looked like a million bucks and was deep in conversation with two other well-dressed men. When he turned and glanced over in my direction, Holy Mother of God…

He looked stunning, his blond hair tucked behind his ears and touching his collar, dark blond scruff on his very square chin and jaw, and those blue-grey eyes... I almost drooled, but succeeded in holding it in and when he smiled at me, I managed to smile back without giggling.

But it took a great deal of effort.

If he was going to be there, and if he was going to be even half as determined as before, I didn’t know if I could resist.

At the same time, I glanced over and saw that Steve was there as well. He must have called in and got Kent to work at the last minute, because I could swear he had been on the schedule for the late shift.

He saw me and came right over, leaning in close.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said and glanced over me. “I don’t get to see you all dressed up very often.”

“Why are you here?” I said in confusion. “I thought you closed tonight.”

He shrugged. “I asked Kent to take my shift. He needs the money, so…”

I nodded. “Since I got accepted into the Intern program with the FBI,” I said, grinning, “Leah and I are out celebrating.”

“That’s right. I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you,” he said and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek, his lips lingering a bit too long. He pulled back and held onto my shoulder. “That’s amazing. Will you be in Manhattan or will you go to Virginia?”

“Manhattan,” I said and forced a smile. I pulled away, uncomfortable that he was still holding onto me. Luckily, the bartender returned with our drinks. I glanced over and saw that Beckett reached for his own beer from the table. We each picked up a bottle of the same brand of artisanal beer and when he noticed, he smiled and came right over, nodding to me and Steve.

Steve visibly bristled like he was angry that Beckett came over.

“Excellent taste in beer as well as bourbon,” he said to me in a very warm, sexy voice with just a hint of that Cajun accent. A grin cracked one side of his mouth and I wondered how it would feel on my various body parts, one in particular, which was currently perking up.

I held my beer up and we clinked the necks together. Leah was busy leaning over to speak to the cute Tall Dark and Handsome next to her.

“We meet again,” he said, looking at me and then at Steve.