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Their smiles are easy and their laughter is real. I envy that. I don’t remember the last time I was happy. Maybe I’ve never been. Even as a kid, drowning in gilded desires and pretty gowns those bands around my chest were already there. That hollow ache too.

I sidestep a huge guy and his buddies, my gaze locked on the table, my thoughts as broken as the walls I’m holding together.

One second, I’m walking, and the next, he’s just… there .

My face is smashed against a wall of muscle. I throw up my hands instinctively as rough palms grasp my bare arms, steadying me. Tight, firm, but not bruising.

“Shit.” His voice is gravel and damnation. Deep and raw in a way that promises things I shouldn’t crave. “You okay?”

Am I?

I have to tip my head back because the guy is a fucking mountain. And a thief who’s already stolen the air from my lungs.

Dark blond hair, stubble covering his jaw that’s more than a five o’clock shadow. He smells like sin, and he probably comes with a side of regret.

I also know him… or at least, I’ve seen him before.

Dash. Of course, it’s him I’ve collided with. He was at Maylie’s birthday party just a few weeks back, standing at the bar looking too tempting, daring me to play the game I’ve become so good at.

He’s the kind of guy I’d get lost in for a night because he’d never want more, never ask for it, and I’d never expect it. I can’t. I won’t. Love burns. It’s not safe.

Ivy and Maylie, they need the kind of devotion their men give them. Me? I’d destroy it, doubt it, and devour it until it ate itself alive.

“You all right?” His head dips slightly to look into my eyes.

I recognise the exhaustion, the weight pressing on his shoulders until he can hardly stand. Two broken souls barely getting through the day, both ruined beneath the smiles and platitudes.

I wonder what broke him. It softens my words. “Are you?”

He hasn’t let go of me, and I haven’t stepped back either.

“Rough week,” he mutters, dropping his gaze to my mouth. “It’s getting better though.”

That flutter in my stomach is new. Flattery isn’t something I crave, not from the turntable of men in my life. But the way he’s looking at me has me feeling things I shouldn’t.

“It usually does when there’s alcohol involved.” I nod towards the bar. “Do you think Riot will make me a Peachy Keen if I ask?”

He snorts, and I grin. The idea of Riot playing cocktail fairy in a biker strip club is fucking hilarious.

“I’ll watch while you ask him.” His eyes haven’t left mine, but I don’t squirm. Usually, I would. I hate being scrutinised. Years under the microscope of my mother.

“Dayna!” Katie’s voice cracks through the air like a whip, and I force myself to drag my gaze from him to look over my shoulder.

Katie’s smirking as she waves at me. Ivy’s watching, her expression unreadable.

Maybe she thinks you’re not good enough for Riot’s friend…

Don’t fucking go there.

Ivy has never made me feel less than, not once. Not even all the times I’ve hated myself.

I gesture towards my friends. “I… have to… go…”

But, fuck, I don’t want to.

“If you still want that Peachy Keen later, I’ll look up how to make it.”

“Thanks.”

He walks off, glancing back just once, like he knows I’m still watching, before he disappears into the sea of people.

My heart lurches when I lose sight of him. I force myself towards the girls. If I stand here any longer, I’ll go looking for him, and nothing good will come of that.

Katie glances up as I pull out the empty chair. I’m breathless when I take a seat, not from exertion but something far more dangerous. Excitement. I can’t remember the last time that happened.

I let my gaze drift around the room as if I’m not seeking him out like a desperate bitch.

“You need a minute?” Katie teases.

I snap my gaze to her, scowling at her smirk. “Oh, come on. I know you play for the other team, but even you can appreciate the man is hot.”

I join her teasing tone, even though my body is humming. It’s forgotten that men aren’t meant to awaken me. They’re a tool, something to get lost in for a time. They’re not supposed to give me belly flutters or a racing pulse.

It’s just the sinfully attractive thing, nothing more.

I like that bad boy with a good heart vibe, so fucking shoot me.

“He’s hot,” Katie agrees, “but you’d eat him alive.”

She’s joking and yet the words land like a bullet to my chest. I don’t blame her for thinking that. I’ve spent the last year fucking and chucking men like they were disposable.

Like I am too.

I slip on the mask they expect and laugh. “Of course I would, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy it.”

Ivy watches me, and for a terrifying moment, I swear she sees beneath my facade. Don’t look too close… you won’t like what you see.

“I can ask Riot if he’s single,” she says finally, slowly. As if she’s measuring how each word will land.

“Babe, I appreciate you being my wing-gal with this, but trust me, I can walk Dash into bed without help.” I reach for the cocktail pitcher in the centre of the table. “Now, how many drinks are you bitches ahead?”