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CARSON
I found myself in the middle of the dance floor, but I had no idea how I got here.
I mean, I sort of did.
I knew my sister had called, telling me there was a big Mustangs hockey game tonight. She’d coaxed me into using my vacation time to get the week off before her wedding. So here I was. We’d gone to the game—her fiancé was a big fan—and now we were at a nightclub, dancing in the middle of a techno wave. Neon lights flashed in the ceiling and on the floor, and lights outlined the exits, but the rest of the space was almost pure darkness.
My sister leaned in, her hand on my hip. “Isn’t this great?” She had to yell for me to hear.
I didn’t bother responding. She’d stopped being sober enough to hear me two hours ago, so I moved her hand to my face and nodded. I tried to be enthusiastic about it. That tended to translate better in the drunk language, and it did. My sister squealed—I could still hear—and wrapped her arms around my neck.
She yelled again, “I’m so happy you got time off.”
Time off. Yeah. That’s what it is.
I kept dancing, but my mind wandered.
I couldn’t stop it.
I enjoyed my work. Being a forensic technician was the bomb in my mind, but I was different lately.
I had changed.
I couldn’t describe it.
Just, there was an ache inside of me. It was weird, and frankly, pissing me off.
I shouldn’t still be thinking about some guy I saw one night, one time. But I was. He was in me for the month after I saw him, and the month after that, and after that—until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
I tried to stop myself from thinking back on that night, but it took such work to numb my brain. I couldn’t change that I had been there, coming in to do those late-night tests on a body. I knew she was Melissa Rainsley now, because I’d done my research. And I knew her fiancé’s name, Jonah Bennett.
I’d found some pictures of the two of them online, and they’d been adorable. If I’d seen them in real life, happy and together, I would’ve hated them on sight for being so perfect. So right.
I knew he’d been in medical school. He had no search history, no social media, but his classmates did. It was scary what you could find in the social media world.
Once again, I shook off my thoughts of him and the fact that he lived two states north of where I grew up, but I couldn’t escape it.
I’d never been the same since that night.
I couldn’t get his face out of my mind, and I had no clue why.
The DJ hit a new beat, cranking up the volume, and I put everything I had into turning my mind off.
One night. Please.
Chapter Eleven
JONAH
I was in a booth. Some chick was grinding on top of me, and I was gone.
I wasn’t here. I wasn’t touching her.
I was with Melissa, feeling her curves, her ass, her pussy.
I didn’t care who this was. In my head, she was the love of my life.
Groaning, I grabbed the back of her head and tugged her close. My mouth dropped on to hers, hungry.
Fuck. I needed this. I needed one more night of her.
Melissa.
Please.
She groaned, winding her arms around my neck, and shifted, pressing down on my dick.
I didn’t care.
I was ready to fuck her right here, right now, but something in the back of my head held me off. It was irritating. Like a bug, pestering me.
She moved her body over mine, and my hand swept down.
A taste.
I’d get her off, then handle shit somewhere else. I’d take her with me. Melissa. That’s who I’d take with me. But as my fingers tunneled up into her, I knew it wasn’t right. That wasn’t her pussy. It wasn’t her moans. She didn’t move the way Melissa did when I was working her over.
I moved my forehead down, pressing into her shoulder, and forced my eyes open.
Flashing neon lights blinded me.
Blonde hair came into focus.
That’s right.
I had no clue who this girl was, but we were in a club.
I looked over. Crowler was next to me, a girl on top of him.
Carlster and Samsonite were in the corner of the private box, talking to a big guy and a girl that looked like Samsonite. Ah... That’s how we got here. That was Sams’ sister and Franklin, a hockey player. I kept looking, watching the crowd in the box. It was a large area. No, wait. There were two boxes attached. People flowed from one to the other and back.
I scanned again. Bubs and Babs were gone. Knowing them, they probably went back to the Airbnb for private time.
I couldn’t blame them. I would’ve done the same myself.
