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Prologue
EIGHT YEARS AGO
LUNA
The night was a total bust.
I’d spent all this time on my hair and makeup and picked out a killer outfit, and for what? Nothing.
There were absolutely no prospects at this damn party. Trust me, I did a lap.
And then I did another lap, just to double-check my work.
I was thorough like that.
Paige promised this party was going to be riddled with hot guys. She was wrong.Verywrong.
Speaking of friends, wherewasPaige?
I scanned the room, which was bustling with people. I knew some of them from college and others must have been friends of Paige’s roommate since I didn't recognize them.
My best friend was likely playing hostess with the mostest, making the rounds with her roommate. Besides, there were a lot of nooks and crannies in this ritzy apartment that made it damn near impossible to get a good vantage point.
Ohh there she is. I spotted her across the room, making out with some guy with a mullet.
Hmm. Not who I would have picked for her. But then again, our tastes—especially in the opposite sex—were night and day. She went for grungy guys, and I went for the bad boys.
At least it meant we were never vying for the same guy’s attention.
While I contemplated extracting her, someone bumped into me with a thud, my vodka soda nearly spilling over the rim of the glass.
“Hey, watch it.” I turned to glare at the culprit to find a man with warm brown eyes, a wide smile, and a sleeve full of tattoos cascading down his arm.
Well, hello there.
This night was looking up.
My mystery man must have just arrived, because I certainly wouldn't have missed him during my earlier rounds. He wore a black t-shirt that molded to his chiseled chest, and he’d paired it with dark skinny jeans and some shit-kicker boots.
This good girl needed a bad boy and the man in front of me fit the bill perfectly. I was sure of it.
“Sorry about that.” He grinned, reaching out to make sure I was steady. “Someone thought flailing their limbs was a good idea.” He glanced over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze.
Sure enough, someone was dancing—if you could even call it that—on the dance floor.
I sank into my hip, accentuating my curves, and nodded at the real offender. “Well, that's a hazard.”
“Hence my bumping into you,” the tattoo guy said as he scanned my body, and I couldn't help but notice the look of appreciation on his face while he did. “Any injuries I should be aware of?”
I bit my lip playfully. “Are you a doctor?”
“Yes,” he said, eyes alight.
I reached out, casually running my hand down his arm. “I've never seen a doctor with tattoos like that.”
He leaned into the touch. “And why can't doctors have tattoos?”
I shrugged. “I'm not saying theycan't.I'm just saying I haven't seen it before. Maybe I should take a closer look.”