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How could a place with flashing lights and loud throbbing music be boring?
“My friends dragged me here.” I lean my chin on my fist.
“Ah, the old friends-dragging-you trick.”
“Yeah, although they’re all dancing. Maybe I can sneak out while they’re distracted.”
He pouts. Big lips. Wonder how they’d be to kiss. “Come on, you haven’t even tried to have fun!”
“I have, trust me.”
“But you just met me!”
I quirk my eyebrow at him.
The guy gives the bartender a simple nod, and a drink manifests before me a moment later.
He slides the drink closer to me and tilts his head to the side. He smiles, “I think I can turn your whole night around.”
An hour later, we’re chest to chest on the dance floor, both eager to change the venue of our intimacy to somewhere more private.
That’s when he kisses me. I don’t even know his name yet. So, I ask.
“Mason. You?”
“Laney.”
However, knowing his name isn’t enough. I need to know more. I need to know everything about him.
I kiss him again. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
I feel that kiss. Now. As his lips caress mine, and his tongue dips into my mouth with an astute care I haven’t known in many men.
Only one other.
It’s like the first time. Just better. Because it’s a second chance.
Except, is it?
Mason tears away from my mouth. “I know you and Nate have something going on.”
“What?!”
He kisses me hard again, hands grabbing my biceps, squeezing. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t–”
“What I mean is, I still…” His fingers brush up against the underside of my chin. “I still want you. I can’t not want you, Laney.”
I swallow. “But Nate–”
“You don’t have to pick.”
My heart stops.
His gaze is locked on mine. “Not yet.”
I swoon at the mere idea I thought Mason was suggesting. To not choose. To have both. Impossible.
