Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Want me to come with you?” she asks.
“Nah.” With a shake of my head, I wave her off. “I’ll be back in a sec, stay here so I can find you again.”
A strobe light of color bounces off the walls as I push my way through the thick crowd. I catch flashes of people I know and wave as I continue on my way. It turns out to be a five-minute wait for the restroom. I chat with a few friends in line and catch up on their lives. Once inside, I do my business and touch up my lip gloss before fluffing my hair. It’s long and loose, floating around my shoulders. I probably should have put it up with all the ass shaking I’m doing, but I’m having way too much fun to care.
On the way back to the dance floor, I detour to the long stretch of bar for another drink. I’m dying of thirst. If I were thinking clearly, I’d get an icy cold bottle of water and hydrate. But tonight, I’m not going to be smart. I’m going to suck down as many drinks as I want and keep the party going until the wee hours of the morning.
As I shoulder my way through the throng, I prop my elbows on the smooth surface and catch sight of a smoking hot bartender mixing cocktails with the precision of a professional. His hair is inky black in the dim lighting, and his eyes are dark, almost onyx in color. He must feel my perusal because he glances in my direction and flashes an easy smile before handing over two bottles of beer and making his way toward me.
The closer he gets, the sexier I realize he is. Physically, he ticks all the boxes.
Tall—check.
Easy on the eyes—check.
Large hands—check.
Knows how to make a cocktail—double-check.
If I were in the market for a one-night stand, this guy would fit the bill perfectly. And with his dark hair and eyes, he doesn’t remind me of—
Nope. Not even going to go there.
I refuse to let him ruin my night.
The sexy bartender lays his palms on the counter before leaning toward me. “What can I get for you, birthday girl?” His voice is deep and smooth but does nothing for me.
“Birthday girl?” I echo, wondering if he has me confused with another chick. There are certainly enough of them vying for his attention. Looks like he has a lot of options for the evening, although I’m not one of them.
“Sure. People have been buying you shots all night long.” He flashes a beguiling set of dimples as he grins. “Props to you. I’m surprised you’re still standing. You must have one hell of a tolerance.”
“Oh.” I laugh and shake my head, realizing that he’s had his eye on me for a while. “It’s not my birthday. Just a little party to celebrate my return to Wesley. I spent last year studying abroad.”
“Well then,” his dark eyes sparkle as they rove over me, “welcome home.”
“Thank you.” While his attention is flattering, I’m still not interested. Even though Jack and I parted ways as friends, I’m not looking for a relationship anytime soon.
“Sounds like it might be my turn to buy you a shot.”
“No more shots,” a deep voice grumbles, interrupting our conversation. That’s all it takes for my good vibes to disappear. “She will, however, take a bottle of water.”
I stiffen and swing around. Even though I know exactly who I’ll find standing beside me, it’s still a surprise when my gaze collides with his bright blue eyes. A reluctant shiver of awareness scuttles down my spine at his proximity.
The last time I saw Colton outside our apartment building, I was too damn furious to notice all the little changes a year of separation had wrought. As much as I loathe to admit it, he looks better than ever. The maroon T-shirt he’s wearing hugs his biceps before stretching tautly across his chest. Somehow, his shoulders are even broader than they were a year ago. My mouth dries as an avalanche of unbidden memories crash over me. I remember what it felt like to slide my fingers across all that steely strength. I tighten my hands in an effort not to reach out and touch him.
What the hell am I doing?
It takes effort to jolt myself out of those insidious thoughts. For as long as I can remember, Colton has had this effect on me. I lose all conscious thought when he’s nearby. I’d hoped my year spent in London would help me to forget about him—or, at the very least, get over him—but that doesn’t appear to be the case.
When it comes to Colton Montgomery, my heart and body have a mind of their own. With punishing force, I crush the fragile emotions attempting to take root inside me.