Page 36 of Bad Run

“And?”

“And he has a girl on his lap,” she says.

I already know the answer, but I ask anyway, “Who?”

“Lance.”

The tequila in my stomach pools, turning sour, forcing me to close my eyes and breathe through the nausea.

Of course, Lance is out with the guys. He’s single. He’s handsome. And he’s a baseball player. I’ve seen women swarm him before.

Jenna slides another shot in front of me. “Has he spoken to you at all since the office incident?”

As I stare at the shot glass full of tequila, I shake my head. “Nope. He just stares at me like he wants to murder me in my sleep.”

“Fuck him. Remember, he’s the one who left that day. Besides, there are plenty of hot guys here tonight for you to sit on if you want.”

“I know, but …” The idea of being with another guy makes me even more queasy.

I haven’t been with anyone since Lance. How could I? He ruined men for me. The things he said. The way he touched me. The way he fucked me with such passion and reverence. Rough but affectionate. Attentive. It was as if he wanted to learn every way in which he could please me and then use that knowledge to fuck me until I came so many times that I was nothing but a boneless pile of flesh.

“But you still like him,” Jenna confirms.

“I do.” So much. I force my eyes to remain looking forward.

“Let’s get out of here.” Jenna laces her fingers through mine, squeezing them tight.

With my free hand, I lift the third shot to my lips and slug it down, slamming the glass onto the table, ignoring the burn at the back of my throat.

Two men dressed in what I consider business casual approach our table, and I’m thankful the effects of the first two shots have finally hit my bloodstream. My ears are hot, my skin is numb to the touch, and my brain can’t conjure images of Lance with other women anymore. It’s too fuzzy to be creative.

“Hello, ladies,” the man with the dark hair and matching eyes says. He sounds British, and I can feel Jenna’s energy shift. She loves a man with an accent.

Between the booze and the knowledge that the man I like is here and has another woman on his lap, my brain is fried. I have no reply for the good-looking guy standing in front of me.

“Hello to you too, gentlemen. I’m Jenna. This is my bestie, Gwen, and it’s my birthday,” she purrs.

The British man turns his attention to Jenna and grins. “I’m Ben. This is Trey.” Ben points to his friend, who is standing beside him.

“Hey,” Trey says with a toothy smile. He’s cute, with his light brown eyes and dark hair, but that flutter in my belly is nonexistent.

I lift my hand and wave like an idiot. Trey smiles wider at me as he steps closer. Still, nothing inside me stirs.

Jenna continues to be my voice. “Gwen and I were about to head to the dance floor. Care to join us?”

Ben chuckles, completely enamored with Jenna and her big personality already. “I’d be honored.”

He extends his arm for Jenna to take, making her blush. “Such a gentleman.”

“For now. We’ll see how the night plays out.” He leads her toward the elevator that takes them back down to the dance floor.

Jenna looks back at me and fans her face with her hand.

I can’t help chuckling.

“I think my buddy might have met his match,” Trey says. He takes another sip from the rocks glass in his hand.

“If she doesn’t eat him alive first.”