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His friend, a tall blond man with messy dreadlocks, draped his arm around Cora’s shoulders.
“So, what brings you ladies here?”
I glanced back at the dancers, trying to see where Ryder had gone, but the wall of shifting bodies was too thick.
“Having a girl’s night,” I said, trying to avoid the truth. Cora, however, was in the mood for being more direct.
“My friend’s on the rebound,” she said as she stroked the stranger’s hand. “I’m her wingman — it’s my job to hook her up with a hot man.”
My cheeks burned. Even though Cora had been pushing for me to go home with someone all night, I didn’t feel like I was ready. I’d broken up with Nathan only three weeks ago. Wasn’t I supposed to spend time alone first?
“Sounds like Ryder’s a lucky man,” the blond man said and smiled at his friend, who was now walking through the parting crowd, holding two drinks.
He gave the red one to me and sipped the other. To my relief, his friend was too distracted by whatever Cora whispered in his ear to tell Ryder about the conversation we’d just had.
“So what do you do, Emma?” Ryder asked, and my heart sank. It was my least favorite question, because I knew what he really meant.
What do you do for work?
Aside from a few weeks waitressing at the end of high school, I’d never had a paying job. When I was twenty, people reacted with bemusement when I told them. But now that I was twenty-five, they reacted like there was something wrong with me.
“I’m a volunteer,” I said. “I work with cancer patients — visit them, do chores around the house, make sure they’ve got everything they need.”
“That sounds interesting.” Ryder stirred his drink with his straw. “But if you’re a volunteer, does that mean you don’t get paid?”
I smiled weakly. “That’s exactly what it means. I’ve been living on the money my mom left me.” When I saw his look of confusion, I elaborated. “She died when I was eighteen.”
Ryder’s mouth dropped.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” I said, and lightly touched his arm. It was more forward than I’d usually be with a stranger — the drinks must have kicked in.
Watching my mom die from cancer when I was only eighteen had been the hardest thing I’d ever done. I didn’t mind talking about it now, but it still made me sad.
Next to us, Cora and Ryder’s friend had progressed to a full-on make-out session. His hand was on her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress up her leg, and she practically sat on his lap.
“Want to dance?” I asked Ryder, looking for an excuse to get away before they took it too far.
Ryder led me to the dance floor and we moved to the beat, our bodies touching as the crowd pushed us closer together. The bass echoed my pulse as Ryder gazed into my eyes, gently touched my jaw, and kissed me.
On the outside, I looked calm; but on the inside, my emotions exploded. Nathan was the only man I’d ever kissed, and Ryder’s lips, while warm and welcoming, felt unfamiliar. Even though Nathan and I weren’t together anymore, I still felt like I’d crossed a boundary.
I gasped and pulled back.
“Everything okay?” Ryder asked.
“Yeah,” I said, although it was a lie. But as my heart rate slowed, I wonderedwhyI felt like I was doing something wrong. I’d cut Nathan out of my life. I was single, and like Cora said, I needed to get over him. And it was nice to feel wanted.
I leaned in and kissed him again, and this time, I didn’t pull back. His tongue swirled around mine, and I allowed myself to relax as he pulled me close. I could feel his erection through our clothes, the heat radiating from it, the quiver of desire that made me gasp with surprise.
My body craved him.
I wanted more.
When Cora suggested finding a taxi, I agreed. All four of us tumbled into the back seat, our bodies squished together in the space that was only designed to fit three people. We kept making out as the taxi weaved through the city traffic, too tipsy to care that the driver could see us in the rear-view mirror.
Our house was a run-down single-level standalone in an up-and-coming neighborhood, which meant it was surrounded by high-rise apartment buildings. It looked like a strong gust of wind would make it collapse, and the landlord ignored all Cora’s maintenance requests, so we suspected our landlord planned to sell it to developers soon.
