Page 5

She gives me a sad smile as I walk away from the mirror. I’m half expecting him to still be waiting for me when I step from the bathroom, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I don’t find him.

Making my way through the crowd, I head up the stairs in the hope of a new drink before I wish Milo a happy birthday and sneak out while no one’s paying attention.

I only realize my mistake when I come to a stop beside the small gathering in front of the bar.

“Harlow, there you are. Brooke said she’d dragged you here, but I was beginning to think she was lying,” Milo says, Linc and Calvin standing beside him.

“Oh, she made quite the entrance. I’m surprised you missed it,” Fletch announces, much to everyone’s amusement.

“Yeah, I’m … uh … sorry about that,” I mutter, unable to look into his eyes.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“Stop bragging,” Milo says with a laugh. “Not all of us have women falling at our feet on a daily basis.” He’s clearly been filled in with all the mortifying details.

“Think that says more about you that anything else,” Linc deadpans.

As a starting defenseman of the LA Vipers, we all know that Milo gets more than his fair share of offers.

Milo shrugs, not in the least bothered by their banter, while Corey assesses me with an amused smile on his face.

“Corey, have you met Harlow?”

“Yeah, you could say we’ve met.” He winks at me. Both Milo and Fletch turn their attention from him to me, and I pray that the floor will swallow me up.

“Is that right?” Milo says, looking a little too intrigued.

“He just bought me a drink earlier.” I drop my eyes to the floor. Anyone who knows me even slightly would be able to tell I’m lying from a mile away, but I’m hardly going to announce that I let him dry hump me on the dance floor—it’s bad enough they could have seen it.

Thankfully, Reese joins us, wrapping her arm around Fletch’s waist and looking up at him like he’s a god—which, to be fair, he kind of is.

A bolt of jealousy threatens to double me over.

It’s not because she has him or anything—I know my previous infatuation with him was just that—but it’s the love that passes between them.

It’s so pure, so honest. It reminds me of how my parents used to look at each other, and that thought alone is enough to have a ball of emotion growing in my throat.

“Sorry to be a party pooper, but we need to head off,” Reese says sadly.

“Not at all. I’m so glad you could come.” I stand aside as Milo says his goodbyes and then mutter my own, managing to keep my hands to myself this time.

A weird tension settles between Corey and me as we watch the couple depart. When he turns back, he looks between Milo and me with his brows pulled tight.

“Drink?” Milo offers.

“Nah, man. It’s your night; I should be buying you the drinks.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

“Harlow?” he asks, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating through me. The effect it has on my body is enough to finalize the decision I’d already made while I was in the bathroom.

“No, thank you. I actually need to get going.”

Corey’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to argue, but Milo’s name being called distracts us all.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Milo asks, taking a step away from us to greet whoever it is.

“I’ll bring your drink over,” Corey says as he leaves us.

He turns his dark eyes on me. The sight pulls at my insides, but leaving is the right thing to do.

If I stay, I’ll end up drinking more, and I know I’ll make a decision that I’ll regret in the morning.

A night with him might be fun, but it’s not going to fix things, and I’m fed up of putting a Band-Aid over my issues and hoping they’ll be dealt with.

“Thanks for … tonight. It was fun.”

“Not fun enough to make you stay?” The little bit of hope in his eyes kills me. Maybe he is different, but going home with him tonight after just meeting him isn’t the way to test that. Finding a man is nowhere on my to-do list right now.

“I’m sorry, I just got?—”

“It’s fine. If you need to go, you need to go. Can I at least give you my number?”

I chew on my bottom lip as I consider what to say, but before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching into my purse for my cell.

I swipe the screen to wake it up, but nothing happens.

Well, I guess that’s fate telling me this isn’t meant to be. “I’m sorry,” I say, holding my cell up to show him. “Battery’s dead.”

I drop it back into my purse, not noticing he’s moved until I look back up and find him waving to the bartender.

“Do you have a pen?”

The second one is handed over, he starts scribbling something down on a scrap of card. “Here,” he says, passing it over. I stare down at the number scrawled across it and wonder if it’ll be one I ever call. Probably not.

“No pressure, but I’d love to see you again.” He smiles almost shyly, and it makes him look so endearing. I wonder for a brief moment if it’s really him or just an act he’s pulling to try to get what he wants. Hell knows, guys have done worse to get a girl into their bed for the night.

“Thanks. Well, I’m gonna …” I point over my shoulder, and he nods.

“Until next time.”

I walk away, wondering if that’s a wish or a promise.