House music courses through my whole body and I can’t help but bob to the beat.

We went to a club the very first weekend in New York, but haven’t been back since.

“The best way to get over your lingering crush on Carter,” Lance explains, “Is with a shiny new rebound. You’ve been a hermit for the first four months we’ve been here.”

I sigh. “You’re right.”

Lance’s eyes flit across the club to a dark-eyed, sexy man with the top buttons of his black shirt hanging open. “That is what I’m talking about. Shiny and new.”

“Good,” I swallow. “Because I’m ready for a freaking rebound. I am not going to let my New York experience be haunted by the ghost of Carter.”

The music gets louder as we approach the bar area.

Lance orders a couple of drinks for us, then spins around from the bar, handing me one.

“Drinks are so cheap here. Only twenty dollars each.”

Before I can ask him if he’s being sarcastic—the New York prices are out of control, so maybe they’re twenty-five dollars next door—a man taps me on the shoulder and I spin around.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” the stranger says. He’s average looking, with brown hair and light brown eyes.

I shrug, pulling my drink in front of me. “Just got one.”

“Oh, alright. Would you like to just dance?”

“Hard to dance with a drink. Maybe later?” I say.

“Okay,” the man says, then walks down the line to the bar, to the next pretty girl.

I sigh. Why does romance in New York make me feel like I’m just a player in some sort of roulette game?

“What was the matter with him?” Lance barks in my ear, loudly so I can hear through the music.

I shrug. “Nothing, really. I just didn’t want to dance with a shady stranger.”

“Hooking up with a shady stranger is exactly the way we’re going to get you out of this funk, though.” He takes my hand. “C’mon. If there’s one thing I know, it’s getting over exes.”

“I’m fine. I just wanted to settle into hanging out with you, first. And finish my drink.”

“That’s so sweet of you. Salud.”

We clink glasses, and take sips of our drinks. Unfortunately, mine is a gin and tonic, and it makes me think back to those rooftop nights I spent with Carter this summer. We’d chat into the wee hours on his roof before we romped in his bed.

At the time, they felt like some of the best nights of my life.

But after the way he left things—amazing sex on his kitchen counter, before telling me he didn’t want a relationship with me, I knew I could never really love him, even if the emotions I’d felt for him were close approaching love.

A man makes eye contact with us, strides toward us from the dance floor. He’s sexy, with a light complexion.

“Hi there,” he bites his lip and focuses his attention on Lance.

“Hi,” Lance says, a little surprised.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but are you two a couple?” he asks.

Lance swallows and shakes his head. “No. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” the man says. “Is your boyfriend here right now?”

“No.”

“Does he let you dance with other people? I just want one.”

“Let me message him.”

Lance sends a message to Joseph, and a few minutes later, a message comes through, with Joseph giving him the okay.

The man’s face lights up. “I won’t do anything weird, I promise.”

“Will you be okay alone for a few minutes?” Lance asks.

“Of course,” I say. “Go have fun.”

A smile crosses my face as I watch the two of them head to the club dance floor. Lance and Joseph’s honesty as a couple impresses me. Even though they are long distance, they share every moment of their day with each other.

Closing my eyes, I sip my drink until it’s done, then let my other senses take over. The DJ brings the beat toward a climax, and endorphins whiz through my body. The club smells like sweat, beer breath, musk cologne, rosy perfume and hairspray, all mixed into one cocktail of the night.

As the music courses through me, I wonder about Carter. Could we have been this honest with each other about every little detail in our lives? How would I feel, dating a celebrity and knowing there were plenty of women who were probably throwing themselves at him at his post game parties? Could we have trusted each other with so much physical distance between us?

I open my eyes when I hear a woman slap a man, open palmed, across the face.

“Girlfriend. This one has a girlfriend,” she announces to anyone in the vicinity. The man slinks away into the crowd, trying to pretend that didn’t just happen.

When I spin back, my eyes fall on the dark-eyed man I saw earlier.

“Hi,” he says, making eye contact with me.

“Hi,” I reply back.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“That guy right there.” His eyes wander toward the scene that just happened. “He just got called out for having a girlfriend. I want to make sure you know I don’t have one.”

“Oh. Well thank you.”

“I’d think it’s weird if you came to a place like this and you had a boyfriend, to be honest.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I blurt out.

His eyes widen. “Really. So what’s…okay this sounds bad in my head. But what’s your flaw?”

“Flaw?”

“I’m just surprised someone as pretty as you doesn’t have a boyfriend. But—on the other hand, it’s two thousand eighteen. What am I even saying.”

I giggle.

“Stop talking,” he adds. “Let’s dance.”

“I can get down with that.”

Taking my hand, he leads me to the dance floor.

“I don’t even know your name,” I shout over the music.

“Josh. You?”

“Lacy.”

My insides curdle just a little bit, in a good way.

Surely, Carter has already had many such encounters like this in the time since last summer.

Blaming the weird butterflies in my stomach on religious guilt, I resolve to move on from him once and for all, just like Lance advised.

With…what’s his name again?

Oh yes, Josh.

Josh puts his hands around my waist, and pulls my body in close to him.

It feels both good and wrong at the same time.

As his legs press into me, I let my body go and grind to the beat. I’ve always thought it weird how close you can instantly get with someone in a club, after just knowing them for one minute.

Lance and his date are dancing with each other a few feet away, grinding respectfully.

Respectful Grinding.

Isn’t that sort of an oxymoron?

Josh’s hands lightly touch my sides, and he flashes me a glance every few beats with his gorgeous, dark eyes.

He kind of looks like Carter, except shorter, and not Carter.

Dammit. Why is Carter still all I can think about? Am I really going to compare every man I meet to Carter’s ghost?

Maybe Lance is right and I have a problem with moving on.

The DJ spins up a new beat, and it’s the Lady Gaga song, Telephone.

“So do you come here a lot?” I yell into Josh’s ear.

“I used to,” Josh says. “But then I got into a long term relationship.”

I recoil, taking a step back. “You said you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Just broke up,” he says. “What about you?”

He takes hold of my hips and we pick up dancing again.

“Same. Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“I was never really sure if we were officially ‘dating.’”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He winks.

He’s a stranger, but nevertheless my heart warms at his words.

Why do I feel, in two minutes, that this man is somehow more emotionally vulnerable than Carter has been with me as long as I’ve known him?

Screw it.

Grabbing hold of his head. I kiss him on the lips.

“Oh. Hello,” he says when I let go, his eyes wide.

My heart about drops through my stomach when we pull away from each other.

My thoughts aren’t of the kiss, but of Carter.

“I see you met my roommate,” Lance’s dance partner appears next to us, Lance in tow. “I’m Luke by the way.”

“That would be me,” Josh says with a wave.

“You two live together?” I ask.

Josh nods.

“Look, do you guys want to get out of here?” Luke says. “I’m too old for these damn clubs any more. And you two seem cool. Why don’t we just go to our apartment, have some Doritos and another bottle of wine and chill?”

“Fuck yes,” Lance says, and I nod as well, not as enthusiastic about the Doritos as he is.

The bottle of wine sounds excellent, though.

A cab ride later we’re on the Upper East Side and walking up the steps to Josh and Luke’s apartment.

Their place is a nice, neat, loft with two tiny bedrooms and a convertible kitchen/living room space.

We hang up our jackets on the coat hangers, and Josh pours four glasses of red wine.

“So,” Lance’s friend Luke says. “You’re in a relationship with absolute transparency. That, I respect immensely. What about you, pretty woman?”

Josh eyes me, obviously curious.

“She just got out of a serious fling with her old high school boyfriend,” Lance interjects.

“I can speak for myself, thank you.”

“Oh, sorry,” Lance says. “I just get so excited to talk sometimes.”

“I know.”

“So what else is there?”

I have a swallow of wine, and it warms my throat going down. “That’s basically it. I was living in Chicago for the summer, and had a run in with someone from my hometown.”

Josh squints a little. “Define, ‘run-in.’”

“Hmm.” I sit back, thinking about how to define what Carter and I had.

“This is what I love,” Luke interjects. “Getting to know great new friends at the club.”

“Lacy is being humble. Carter Flynn was practically in love with her this summer.”

“Lance!” I pout out, then sigh heavily.

“Holy shit. We’re talking the Carter Flynn? Last year’s MVP, player for the Chicago Wolverines?” Josh’s jaw drops, and he slaps a hand down on my knee.

I nod. “Enough about me. What about you two? You seem…normal enough.”

“Well, I broke up with my fiancé at the last second,” he says. “I felt awful, but something just didn’t feel right. I had to.”

“I can vouch. He’s been a lot happier since,” Luke says.

“How do you two know each other?” Lance asks.

“Roommates, freshman year at NYU,” Josh says. “Moved in with him after the, ah, breakup.”

“So…you guys want to watch a movie?”

We end up throwing on the old show 24, with Kiefer Sutherland as Jack Bauer. I fall asleep in the middle of the couch, in between Lance and Josh.

I wake up to Lance poking me, and hearing birds chirping.

“Hey, sexy thing, we’ve got to get out of here,” Lance says.

I stir, seeing Josh isn’t next to me. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

“Oh wow,” I jump up. “We really slept in, didn’t we.”

“You bet we did. How’s your neck feel?”

“Creaky.”

“Let’s get home.”

Outside, we hail a cab, and then get out at the corner down from our apartment.

“I’m going to grab some coffee from Starbucks. You want some?”

“Yes. Cappuccino for me.”

“You know it.”

“Let’s go work out today. I need to work off my sins from last night.”

“Sins? We just fell asleep on the couch.”

“Yeah, but I kissed him.”

Lance sighs, and puts his hand on my shoulder. “That’s not a sin.”

“I feel weird about it.”

“Honey, I’ve got news for you. Carter Flynn is gone. You’ve just got to accept that, and move on. Make out with all the boys you want to do that. I got a good vibe from Josh.”

Lance leans in and hugs me. “I did too,” I say.

“Anyway. Getting coffee. See you in a few.”

Lance walks away, and a burst of sunlight cuts through the clouds, and falls right onto the sidewalk where I’m standing.

A full, genuine smile crosses my face. The truth is, I am excited about what something between Josh and I might hold. He was hot yet not creepy, and didn’t push too hard for anything. Maybe after Lance and I work out, I’ll give him a call.

His advice about finding someone new was totally right. Going on four months is way too long to hold onto someone from the past.

Exhaling a sigh of complete relief, for the first time since I’ve been in New York, I feel as though I’m truly moving on from Carter and I feel righteous. Why would I get my heart stuck on someone who didn’t even have the guts to put a label on our relationship?

And as for his long distance complaint, that was a cop-out. Long distance has never been easier in history, with unlimited data plans. Really, he was scared.

Thinking about the previous night, my heart feels so light, I start to dance a little bit as I walk the half block up to my apartment.

I even wave to a squirrel. “I’m moving on,” I say to him, and he runs to a patch of grass, digging and looking for a nut.

Pulling out my keys, the blood goes out of my face when I see who’s on my front steps.

He stands up.

Tall, and handsome as ever. More handsome. It’s chilly fall weather, but he doesn’t even have a jacket.

His expression is even as his rich mahogany eyes sear into me.

“Hello, Laces,” Carter growls. “Late night last night?”