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As the evening drew to a close, everyone headed for the door, but something about Red still didn’t sit right with me. Hooking my arm into hers, I pulled her to the side. “Hey, you swear you’re all good?”

She frowned, her eyes dropping to where my hand wrapped around her wrist.

Fuck. I crossed a line. Quickly releasing her wrist, I buried my hand in my pocket.

Determination fixed her stare. “I said I’m good. You?”

I didn’t believe her. Not for a second. My jaw tightened, not expecting the question. “Just peachy,” I lied, as a cage tightened in my chest. I twisted the key, then threw it away.

Satisfied with my answer, she followed the group outside and turned at the bottom of the landing to look up at me. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Her thick, dark lashes blinked slowly over hazy eyes, thanks to the alcohol she had consumed.

“Stay warm, Red,” I said, lifting my hand in the air.

“You too.” She gathered her hair around her neck, pulling her coat tighter before catching up with the rest of the group.

Pulling the door closed, I slumped against it. A room full of fated mates had been borderline too much. I was used to being in a bar with couples, but never like this, with two in close proximity. How the fuck was I supposed to survive hanging out with them constantly?

After locking my apartment, I headed for my bedroom and flicked on the bedside lamp. The dim light cast shadows through the room, just the way I liked it.

I undressed and stepped into my ensuite, leaving the door to my bedroom open a crack to allow the smallest sliver of light into the space, just enough to brush my teeth. I hated bright light, hated what it revealed. Because I had history I couldn’t face, not even in the mirror.

Making my way back to the bedroom, I slid into bed, closing my eyes as I tried to force the scents of the evening from my mind. They lingered, ready to take me at my weakest: when liquor was in my bloodstream.

But I wasn’t fucking weak. I controlled it. I held the cards. I made the calls. The tough ones. I drank more tonight than I had in years. The odd shot at the bar from a patron was like a rite of passage for a bartender, but within the group, the guys knew I drank very little. Tonight, I’d let my guard down, happy to celebrate Morgan’s success. But I couldn’t let it happen again.

***

“What can I get you?” I asked the blonde with huge breasts that practically hung out of her low-cut top. I recognized her from last week, remembering the fuck-me eyes she had given me the entire night. Much to my dick’s disappointment, I’d politely ignored them.

Until an hour ago, the bar had been quiet, save for the odd after work patron filling a jug before making a purposeful early exit. That was the ebb and flow of a bar. As the workers left, the younger crowd turned up, usually sticking around until late, which was when the bar turned over its highest profit.

Perky blonde smiled at me with perfect white teeth, the kind you only get from professional whitening. My guess was her breasts were professional too. Each to their own.

She battered her eyelashes, which were decidedly too long to be real. Credit to her: caked in thick mascara, they made her big blue eyes pop, which I imagined was the purpose.

“I’ll have a quick fuck, thanks.” She leaned over the bar, causing her breasts to press together.

Fuck me, that was one hell of a rack.

The surly ocean swirling in her loaded stare suggested she wasn’t talking about a shot. In fact, quite the opposite.

I ignored the ache in my jeans, still there after I hadn’t tended to it last night. I often had women proposition me at the bar, and, admittedly there had been times when I’d indulged in their attention. Letting them tend to an itch that needed scratching. Because a quick fix was better than the alternative.

Love.

“Coming right up,” I replied, as I went about making her order. “Just the one?”

She smiled again, tilting her head to the side. “Actually, on second thought, have one yourself.”

Fuck. My brow jumped. “That wasn’t what I meant.” I’d already had one beer and did not need more liquor in my veins tonight. Especially not after last night. I was still suffering the consequences. I rubbed at my temple, attempting to relieve the pounding in my head.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” she purred.

My gaze dropped to where she moistened her lips, the motion stating her intentions. My dick responded accordingly. I would regret this for sure.

Making myself the same shot, I took her payment, and we drank them together. I held back a grimace. I hated quick fucks.

Perky blonde placed her empty shot back on the bar, pulling her high ponytail tighter. “When’s your break?”