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I screwed a stranger.

I screwed a stranger in the champagne room.

I saw a man’s face for the first time, and my inherent reaction was to hop in his lap, remove his pants, and ride him into oblivion.

Jesus Christ.

The words echo in my mind, a scratchy old record spinning relentlessly on repeat. My eyes squeeze shut as I twirl around the pole, my body rotating in time with my intrusive thoughts.

I. Screwed. A?—

No.

Not a stranger…not technically.

Even though something tells me he is.

Every sound hooks my nerves. The main door whooshes open, and I snap to attention, my gaze darting left, waiting, hoping—or maybe bracing. When a new voice cuts through my fog, I strain my ears, waiting for the one voice that could shatter or steady me.

I expected him to come tonight. He’s like a vampire, keeping to the shadows, prowling when the sun dips and the darkness thickens. Isaac has been hunting me.

And I walked right into his trap.

Spotlights catch on the sapphire sequins of my bralette as I sweep it from the stage, my smile plastered on for show. I don’t remember much of the dance, but I’ve made enough tips to feed myself for a few days. Still dazed, I retreat to the dressing room and slide into my casual armor: ripped skinny jeans, a cream camisole, black ankle boots. The raven wig comes off, my hair scraped into a hasty topknot. Purse and jacket slung over my shoulder, I weave back into the club.

A body jostles me in the crush of people, and I jump, barely suppressing a gasp.

“Sorry,” the man mutters, vanishing.

My heart pounds, adrenaline surging as I clutch my purse, hating how jumpy I’ve become. Faces flash past—The Timekeeper, Roger, the sinister nurse, a doctor with a sharp, rat-like smile.

Isaac.

Ghosts from my past curl around me, choking me, dragging me back to a captivity I thought I’d escaped. I wanted Isaac to return, to be the unsung hero who could piece me back together, but instead, he’s fractured me further. Last night’s misstep throbs in my chest, shame and longing bleeding together, the heat of humiliation warming my cheeks.

I swipe at my damp hairline, scanning the room as strobe lights fracture across my periphery. Colors swirl, bass thumps, and every note sounds like that song . My pulse quickens—a whisper in my ear, a hand grazing my hip, a chill winding down my spine.

“See you soon.”

The noise blurs, voices muddle.

Then my vision clears.

Dancers and patrons fly around me as the crowd parts, and in that split-second, under the wash of flickering floodlights, I see him.

He sits perched at the bar, watching me with those hazelnut eyes, his expression locked down, unreadable. But something stirs in my chest—a tangle of anger, desire, shame, and…relief.

Memories of last night unfurl, raw and vivid. The silk of his hair between my fingers, the hardness of his muscles, the heat of his body pressed against mine. Just touching him felt like striking a match to paper; a moment of fragile flame, already ashes but burned into memory.

It was hard enough shutting out the sound of his voice.

Now I’ve seen his face, and I don’t know if I can turn away. I’ve felt his hands all over me. I know the way he feels inside me, know the sounds he makes when he?—

Stop it, Everly. He’s not the man you thought he was.

Isaac slowly stands from the stool.

I’m paralyzed, rooted in place as my heart teeters in two directions. Part of me wants to run to him, to fold myself into the warmth of his arms, while another part wants to hide, to vanish from his orbit. My emotions sway like a seesaw, pulling me to him, pushing me away, unable to settle.

I swallow.

I want to tell him to leave, to beg him to stay, but the words dissolve on my tongue when I hear my name echo through the crowd.

“Everly.”

I snap back, the trance broken. The voice registers, but it’s not his. It’s familiar and disorienting, tugging me out of one daze and into another.

I twist toward the other side of the bar, blinking, as if my brain’s struggling to process what I’m seeing. A man leans against the counter—black hair, sun-bronzed skin, a navy quarter-zip, and loafers I could pick out of a lineup.

The man I once trusted with my whole heart.

“Jasper?” His name falls out in a jagged whisper as my two worlds collide.

He straightens and steps toward me, his smile shrinking as he brushes a hand through his hair, taking in the club around him with a hint of distaste. “Are you all right?”

“I…” My gaze ricochets around the room, finding Isaac stalled a few feet away, his eyes drilling into Jasper with a look that could blister. I stifle a wheeze. My ex-husband is here, in San Francisco, standing in a strip club. And Isaac is watching. “What…what are you doing here?”

Jasper’s lips tug into another tentative smile. “I texted you.”

I nod, fumbling for a response. “I know.”

“You never replied. I’m in town for a few days, and we need to talk.” His eyes search mine, worry climbing as he takes in my wide-eyed stare, the way I’m clutching my purse as if it might keep me from toppling sideways. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look…” He lifts a hand, gesturing to my trembling limbs. “Shaken.”

“I’m fine. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you.” I force the words, darting a glance at Isaac. His eyes are on Jasper now, a storm brewing just beneath the surface, lethal and precise. The malice there makes my pulse hitch. “I was just…heading out.”

My throat tightens as I shift my attention back to Jasper. The timing feels surreal, like fate is playing some sick joke. Out of all the places in the world, he’s here, in this moment, with him watching. The air vibrates with tension as my past and present circle each other, one stumble away from a collision.

I nearly hit the ceiling when Ariel sweeps by and slaps my ass.

Embarrassment blooms, pinkening my cheeks.

Jasper’s brows knit—he looks appalled. “I, uh…didn’t mean to surprise you. I realize this isn’t the best time.”

He has no idea.

My heart races as Isaac steps closer, slowly inching through the crowd like a shadow moving at the edge of my vision, each step carrying a silent warning.

“Should we step outside to talk?” Jasper glances at the figure approaching, confusion splashing across his face.

When Isaac lands beside me, his body heat zapping the remaining fragments of my resolve, I almost buckle. “I don’t think…I’m not…”

“She doesn’t look very happy to see you,” Isaac deadpans. His shoulder brushes mine as our knuckles graze, a subtle show of possession. The electricity between the three of us crackles, my nerves stretched tight as a wire.

Jasper’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he sizes up Isaac. “And you are?”

Isaac doesn’t flinch. “A friend.”

“Right.” Clearing his throat, Jasper steps forward and curls his hand around my forearm. “Everly, let’s go outside and?—”

In a blink, Isaac’s hand lashes out and clamps down on Jasper’s wrist, stopping him mid-motion. His grip is firm but deceptively calm.

I see stars.

Shit.

There’s no way this is going to end well.

Jasper tugs his wrist free, his eyes flashing with irritation and alarm. He squints at Isaac, taking one step back. “Do I know you?”

A scowl. “No.”

I position myself between the two men, sparing Isaac a quick glance before placing my palm on Jasper’s chest, gently guiding him toward the entrance. “You’re right, we should go outside.”

Isaac’s gaze sparks with fury, cutting through the strobes like a blade.

I ignore the sting.

Launching forward, I send a weak smile to one of my coworkers and zoom out the front door, Jasper trailing behind me. The night air hits me like a douse of cold water, star-speckled and sharp, and I falter on the sidewalk, slipping into my cropped black jacket. I turn to face my ex, my heart in a gallop. “Why are you here?”

He clears his throat, nervously glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting Isaac to be hot on our trail. “Who was that?”

My gaze settles on my ankle boots. “Doesn’t matter.”

“He looked…dangerous.”

Straightening, I steel my voice. “He’s not.” The words feel like a mantra, hoping that by saying them aloud, I can convince myself of their validity. “That was Isaac. He was the man I was looking for…during the rescue.”

Jasper frowns, then sends me a pointed look. Awareness blooms as his focus flicks between me and the club. “The man with the bag over his head?”

“Yes,” I breathe out, wishing I could banish that scene from my memories, scrub the vivid colors from my brain for good. “He was one of the captives. We shared a wall.”

The weight of the moment still grips me with a heavy hand.

Jasper and Isaac.

Together in that room.

Both men bound and helpless, begging for their lives, while all I wanted to do was give up mine.

Another look washes over Jasper’s face, a different look, something curious and full of weight. He rubs a hand over his jaw, his brows creasing with thought. “Shit.”

“I know.” I blink away from him. “But he’s not dangerous. He’s just protective, given the circumstances, so I?—”

“No, I mean…I think I’ve met him before.”

I hesitate, my thoughts scrambling. “That’s not possible. He went off the grid after we were rescued. He was never in the news.”

Jasper squints, studying me, as if he’s trying to piece something together. “You sure he’s not a detective?”

“What?”

“I swear he interviewed me once.”

My heart teeters and a stuttered breath falls out. “No, I…” I shake my head, rejecting the claim. There’s no way that’s possible. “You must be confusing him with someone else.”

He dusts his thumb over his bottom lip, silent and stoic. Marinating in the notion. Then he nods, blowing out a breath as he turns to face me. “Right,” he murmurs. “I could be mistaken. That was years ago, and those months after the abduction are a bit of a blur.”

“Of course.” I stare at him, a briny knot expanding in my throat. “I’m sure the details are hazy.”

There’s still something in his eyes, a flickering of knowing.

But Jasper regroups, peering over at a homeless man camped between two buildings. “Listen, I have some news. I thought we could grab a bite to eat tomorrow and discuss.”

I cross my arms to ward off the night’s chill. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s important.”

A jolt of dread twists my stomach as I lock eyes with him. “Is Allison okay?”

“Yes.” He says it quickly, severing our stare. “Of course.”

Nodding, I blow out a breath of relief.

A cool breeze whips by, doing nothing to disrupt Jasper’s perfectly gelled hair. I can’t help but think of Isaac’s hair—untamed and rebellious, wild in the wind, just like his spirit.

Dark eyes. Dark words. Darker heart.

I shake the images away. “Then what is it?” My voice wavers, laced with a sinking feeling he’s about to unravel the delicate ribbons of peace I’ve managed to weave together. “We’re divorced, Jasper; we’re living separate lives. I can’t imagine what there is to talk about, or what you?—”

“It’s about your future. A business proposition.” Jasper slips his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, shifting on his loafers. “But I’d rather not talk…here.”

His attention swings to the flashing marquee above our heads, featuring an emblem of a neon silhouette—a woman mid-dance, legs extended in a high kick, outlined in electric pinks and purples. Beneath her, the words “Ladies Night – No Cover Until Midnight” twinkle in sync with the beat of the music seeping through the front door.

A shot of insecurity pierces me, knowing how he must perceive the new life I’ve built. I lift my chin, determined not to let him see me rattled. “I’m busy,” I lie. “I have a date.”

“A date?” His huff of laughter is incredulous. “With that guy?”

My defenses flare. “Is that a problem?”

“No, but I don’t have a lot of time before I need to get back to Los Angeles. Can you reschedule?”

“Sure,” I clip out. “I’ll tell him my ex-husband popped back into town and wants to take me out. I’m sure that will go over well.”

He exhales sharply, frustration tightening his features. “I just need one night. No pretenses, no expectations.” His hands tent under his chin, a pleading look in his eyes. “Please. Just hear me out.”

I consider what he could possibly want to tell me.

A business proposition.

My mind reels, each scenario spinning in my mind like a whirlwind of motives and hidden agendas. But my curiosity outweighs my reservations. “Fine,” I agree, wheeling my gaze toward the entry door, a prickling awareness at the nape of my neck, reminding me that Isaac is just beyond it. “One night.”

His eyes brighten. “Yeah?”

“I’ll text you my address. Pick me up at seven.”

“Perfect. I appreciate?—”

I don’t let him finish. Spinning on my heel, I head in the opposite direction, my pulse thrashing. When I glance back a few yards later, Jasper has disappeared into the night. I pause on the sidewalk, uncertainty clawing at my gut. Isaac is still inside the club, and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to come back. To chase him down and cross some invisible line between us.

This new wall.

Should I?

I dally on the sidewalk as movement distorts in my periphery. Late-night pedestrians blur past me, the clap of heels against pavement blending with muffled words and soft laughter. Lamplight illuminates a slew of unfamiliar faces, colorful jackets, blazers, lipsticks, light hair, dark hair, a pink-and-navy checkered suit?—

I slam my eyes shut.

No.

He’s not here.

The Timekeeper is not coming for me.

It’s over.

When my eyes peel open, I notice my hands are trembling violently. I rake my fingers through my hair, steadying myself as I try to summon one of my mother’s hokey pearls of wisdom.

“Every second spent living in the past is a second wasted in the present—and there’s nothing worse than waste.”

I shake off the jitters.

As I take a step forward, another body bumps into me. My purse slips down my arm, crashing to the cement as a group of twenty-somethings blow past with cell phones in their hands.

Sighing, I bend to retrieve the fallen purse. But before my fingers clamp around it, two black boots enter my line of sight.

A blink. A breath.

A large hand snatches up the purse before I can, and I find myself staring up into a pair of blazing brown eyes. Isaac’s expression is stoic, his fingers hooked around the strap as he extends it toward me with unnerving calm.

I stand and square my shoulders. “No.”

He raises a brow, gaze sharpening. “No?”

“No,” I repeat, meeting his stare with fire. “Unless you’re finally ready to talk?”

I’ll give him one more chance—a chance to show me the man I thought I knew.

But he just stares at me, his lips curving up with a smirk. “You seem a little…wound up. If last night wasn’t enough to take the edge off, I’d be more than happy to help.”

My jaw clenches.

I rip the purse from his hand, cheeks burning against the cold air. “Leave me alone, Isaac,” I mutter, turning sharply and stepping forward, aiming for a quick escape.

But I don’t get far.

His hand closes around my wrist, tugging me back and into the alley beside us. I gasp as he spins me, pressing me against the brick wall, his body shadowing mine.

“What is it you’re running from?” His voice is low, almost taunting, but the question carries earnestness. A challenge.

I swallow, pushing down the flutter of panic creeping up my throat. I’m not afraid of him; I’m afraid of this …of what this could become. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have in an alleyway.”

“Good,” he says, unbothered. “Because I’m not interested in conversation.” His gaze dips to my mouth, then returns to my eyes. “You keep saying no, but everything about you screams for something else.”

I shake my head. “You have no idea what I want.”

His thumb traces the line of my jaw, featherlight. “I know what you’re trying to avoid.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He leans in closer, his breath brushing against my ear. “I don’t need to. I already know you don’t walk away from something this easily.”

My heart pounds, frustration fusing with an ache in my chest I don’t want to name. His hand trails down, skimming my arm, and I force myself to stay composed as he finally releases me, stepping back just enough to give me room to move.

“Go on, then,” he murmurs, his eyes still locked on mine. He nods at the entrance to the alley. To freedom. “Run.”

My legs refuse to obey. I stare at him, willing myself to turn, to escape, to run like he told me to…but I can’t. Isaac sparked a fire between us, a blaze too explosive to tame.

I glance away, gritting my teeth.

“Thought so.” He inches closer, blanketing me with warmth and confusion. His hand rises, hovering at my cheek, daring me to pull back.

I don’t. I’m caught—caught between the need to shove him away and the urge to let him burn away the parts of me I’ve tried so hard to keep under control.

“Still pretending you don’t feel it?” he asks, voice thick with satisfaction.

I narrow my eyes, mustering every ounce of defiance. “I’m not pretending anything. Last night was clearly a mistake.”

“A mistake. Right.” The heat of his hand settles on my waist, grounding me, rooting me to the spot. His thumb traces a slow, agonizing circle against my side, sending shivers along my skin. “Have you spent the day convincing yourself you didn’t want it?” His eyes narrow as he evaluates me, the corner of his mouth rising with smug conviction. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“I wanted someone who doesn’t exist,” I say, my eyelids fluttering. “I can’t do this with you. With this… version of you.”

“I’m the only one you can do this with.” His hand trails up my body, grazing the side of my breast, before his grip turns forceful, possessive, and he brackets my throat, tipping my head back against the brick. “How many men have you been with lately? Tell me.”

A whimper falls out as he squeezes my neck. I want to lie to him, but only the truth spills free. “Just you.”

A low hum rumbles in his throat as he leans in, skimming his nose up my jaw. “Fuck. Can’t stop thinking about the way you rode my cock last night. How much you needed it.”

Oh, my God.

I swallow hard, feeling the pull deepen. Tilting my head to find his lips, I inhale a flimsy breath as our mouths gently graze.

But I can’t let him win so easily. A tiny grin crests as our eyes meet through the shadows. “Jasper’s taking me to dinner tomorrow night.”

Isaac stiffens.

I feel his muscles lock, turning to stone.

He pulls back slightly, a hurricane brewing in his eyes. “Is that supposed to shake me?”

“Does it?”

“Stop lying to yourself. We both know your piss-poor excuse for an ex-husband was never enough for you.”

“I loved him,” I counter. “I married him.”

“And then he started fucking your best friend while you were locked away in a madman’s den, waiting for him to rescue you.” He shrugs. “So I’ve heard.”

I frown. “How do you even know that?”

“Does it matter?”

An angry growl escapes, and I shove him away with both hands. “Don’t forget, you disappeared from my life just as easily.”

He grabs me again, pulling me back.

Squirming in his grip, I grit my teeth. “You vanished without a word, leaving me to pick up the pieces.”

“I had my reasons.”

“You’re just as much a part of my past as he is.”

“And yet, here we are.” Isaac sinks a hand into my hair, curling his fist, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. “What are you going to do about it?”

A sound escapes: part wince, part moan. “Let me go.”

“You first.”

I notice my hands are gripping the lapels of his leather coat, holding him to me. The realization sends a jolt of confusion through my senses, but my body betrays me, craving the closeness. The alley fades away, car engines and faraway voices replaced by the pounding of my heart. I’m trapped between the memories of his absence and the intoxication of his presence.

Our eyes meet.

Weakness carves a tunnel through me.

I yank him forward, crushing my lips to his.

Isaac groans hotly, opening his mouth, lashing his tongue against mine as his hands cup my face, fingers digging into my cheeks.

All those days, weeks, months, divided by a wall— God , this was inevitable. This physical draw, this connection I can’t seem to shake. The weight of his return, the intensity of his need, blurs the line between desire and reality. I arch against him, wanting more, wanting all of him.

Wanting the way he made me feel before everything went wrong.

He tugs on my hair, slanting my head until our mouths angle, tasting deeper. My leg draws up, coiling around his thigh, seeking friction. Teeth nick and bite, hands grab and claw, and before I can take a breath, I feel the button on my jeans snap open. Collapsing against the wall, I close my eyes as his hand slips inside the waistband, his fingers stroking me through my underwear.

A high-pitched moan tears through me, and Isaac captures it with his mouth. His fingers rub against wet silk, our tongues tangling with fire and desperation. My thighs spread wider. I need his fingers inside me, to tug aside the scrap of underwear and plunge deep.

“Please,” I whimper, dragging my hands up his neck, gripping his hair as we break apart. Our lips hover, parted and needy, breaths intertwining. “Isaac…”

Two fingers work me faster, bringing me to the edge, the euphoric peak.

I’m already close. I’m already so?—

Then he stops.

All motion freezes.

I nearly cry out with frustration when he pulls his hand free, curling it around my hip as he presses our foreheads together.

“I’m staying at the Crossroads Inn,” he says, voice low and dark.

It takes a moment for his words to register.

For the implication to settle in my chest.

My lips flatten into a thin line, my face flaming. I straighten against the wall, readjusting my camisole before sweeping loose hair out of my eyes. “I’m not a booty call.”

Isaac takes a slow step backward, his eyes trailing over me from head to toe. “The things I want to do to you aren’t fit for an alley, Bee.”

I blink at him.

Temptation seizes me.

My gaze flicks south, and I catch sight of the giant bulge in his jeans. Swallowing, I slide my focus back up until our eyes meet.

His are sparkling with promise. Mine are rebelliously curious.

I part my lips to speak, but he beats me to it.

“Room 217.”

Then he turns, fading into the shadows of the alley. The echo of his footsteps bounce off the brick walls, leaving me in a charged silence.

I’m left standing there, heart racing, torn between the thrill of chasing him into the unknown and the instinct to retreat into the safety of the night.

But as he disappears, I steel myself and release a long breath.

I refuse to follow him into the dark.