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“Yes and no. He’s still in his twenties, so I’d like to think he’s at least not bald. Although you never know these days.”

“Still leaves a lot to go wrong, don’t you think?”

“Nah, it’s all good. I can feel it in my blood.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the wine.”

“Meh, tonight is my night, H. Just you wait and see. I’m gonna snag me a Brit, and I’m not letting this one out of my sight.”

“If you say so.” The neon lights of the club come into view.

After saying the right words in the bouncer’s ear, he stands aside and allows both Brooke and me to enter the club, although not before he gets his fill of her scantily clad body.

“You offering up sexual favors again?”

“Not necessary this time. Come on—stop dawdling. The bar and the Brit are calling.”

She grabs my hand, and together we make our way through the crowd and toward the roped-off stairs that lead to the VIP section.

As we move, the loud bass from the music vibrates through me, and even though being here tonight was the last thing I wanted to do after a long week, I can’t help a little excitement creeping in. It’s been a long time since I’ve let go and forgotten about the world for a few hours.

After sweet-talking the second bouncer in as many minutes, we’re climbing the stairs away from the masses of people.

We’re only three-quarters of the way up when I first see him.

My nerves hit me like a sledge hammer, and my body starts to tremble.

It doesn’t matter how many times I see and talk to him.

It doesn’t matter that I hear stories from Reese about what a ‘normal’ guy he is.

To me, he’s still the man I had pinned to my bedroom walls and said goodnight to before falling asleep.

I focus on my shoes as I climb the stairs, the gems on the front glinting from the spotlights above and providing a distraction from the man I’m walking toward.

I’ve got one more step to climb. Thinking I’m safe, I look up, but the second I meet his piercing blue eyes, my feet falter. The platform of my shoe connects with the step, and I go tumbling forward.

I reach my hand out in the hope that it connects with something to break my inevitably painful collision with the tiled floor, but thankfully, the pain never comes. Instead, my hand hits something warm and soft.

The second I see what I used to stop my fall, I gasp in horror and stumble backward into someone else. Large hands grip onto my waist to steady me as I keep my eyes locked on the floor. My cheeks flame so hot I swear they’re going to catch fire any moment.

“Jesus, Harlow, that was some entrance,” Fletch says with a laugh as I continue to die a thousand deaths.

“Are you okay?” A deep, smooth voice washes over me from behind, making me wish the ground would just swallow me up. I nod, but not before I hear the laughter of my best friend behind me.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I mutter, looking up—but only so I can see which way the bar is so I can wipe this disaster from my memory. “T-thank you,” I whisper to the man behind me who’s still holding me upright, probably thinking my legs don’t work correctly.

“Anytime.” I push to move away, but his voice makes me pause. It’s deep, rough, and his accent is … I don’t have time to try to figure it out. I just need to get away from Fletch’s blue eyes that turn me into a fumbling moron.

His wife is literally my boss. I need to get a grip on myself.

“Oh my God, Harlow. That was classic,” Brooke howls beside me as I wait for the bartender to notice me. “I mean, Fletch is used to women falling at his feet, but using his cock to save yourself from breaking your nose? That was fucking?—”

“Enough,” I bark. “This is all your fault.” Turning to her, I narrow my eyes in the hope it’ll shut her up.

“Me?” she asks, innocently pointing to herself.

“Yes. I should be on the sofa right now with my second tub of ice cream, watching others falling in love on some shitty reality TV show.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like a winning way to spend your Friday night, H. I’ll call you a cab right now.”

“Really?” I ask hopefully.

“No. Harlow. No. You embarrassed yourself. So what? Fletch doesn’t care, so neither should you.” She waves and the bartender comes right over—of course he fucking does. One look at her and he’s like putty in her hand. I roll my eyes as Brooke orders us four shots of?—

“Tequila?” My lip curls in disgust.

“Yes, hopefully it’ll give your confidence a boost and loosen you up a little.”

“Here’s hoping,” I mutter, more to myself than her as I pick up the first one and knock it back before immediately going for the second. The alcohol burns my throat, but it’s only seconds before it starts warming my belly. Maybe it will have the effect Brooke intended.

“Oh, the birthday boy’s here. Let’s go and wish him a happy birthday.” I look over to where Brooke’s focus is and see both Reese and Fletch standing before Milo and a number of other team members.

“It’s okay, you go. I’ll order some more drinks.”

“He’s just a guy, H. You can talk to him like any other.”

“I know. And I will talk to him … them. I just … I can only embarrass myself so much every hour.”

Shaking her head at me, she takes off across the room, her heels clicking against the black polished tiles and her mile-long, tanned legs eating up the space.

I don’t need to look around to know she’s got the attention of at least a handful of men as she moves.

It doesn’t matter that she’s off-limits to the guys.

Brooke has this aura surrounding her, one that turns all attention on her.

Something that I most definitely don’t possess.

I’m just the best friend who makes an idiot of herself as often as possible and only helps to make Brooke look so much more desirable.

Blowing out a long breath, I turn back to the bar, only to find that the bartender has once again vanished to serve someone else. Fantastic .

Thinking that I’ll just order a cab home, I turn to slide from the stool but come to a stop when I find a guy standing before me. One side of his mouth curls up in an unsure smile.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

His deep voice is immediately recognizable, and I feel the warmth of his hands against my waist from not so long ago.

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry about that. I’m a bit of an id …

” My eyes run up exposed forearms that are covered in ink, the fabric of his shirt straining over muscular biceps.

It’s open one button too many at the neck, showing even more art, but it’s when I find his light blue eyes that it feels like my world tilts slightly.

His lopsided grin turns into a megawatt smile, exposing perfectly straight white teeth beneath, and my entire body sighs.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

It takes me a few moments to register that he’s said anything, but once I do, I tilt my head to the side and look at him once more.

“Y-you’re the Brit?”

That lopsided smile returns, but this time a dimple pops up in his cheek.

“What gave me away?” I bite down on my bottom lip, and his eyes drop to focus on it. “It’s Corey. And you are?”

“H-Harlow.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Harlow. Shall we?” he asks, gesturing toward the bar before lifting his hand to signal the bartender.

Ignoring the vacant stool beside me, he chooses instead to stand next to me, just close enough that his warmth heats my side and his scent fills my nose. This guy knows what he’s doing. It should be a turn-off, but I can’t help but fall for his charm.

Maybe Brooke was right.

I bite down on my bottom lip as I attempt to remember what it feels like to be touched by a man.

Brooke’s going to kill you for talking to him first, I think as I look up at him once more, my cheeks burning.

When I glance over my shoulder, I see she’s still preoccupied with Milo and a few other LA Vipers staff along with Reese and Fletch.

That’s enough to tell me that I’m not heading over there anytime soon.