What the hell kind of day was this?

I thought I’d managed to escape the shit, but no, it followed me all the way to Chicago.

Tom was marrying Becca.

My stomach plummeted again just at the thought, and I felt sick.

Tom.

The man I’d spent eleven years of my life with was marrying my best friend.

My hands were still shaking, had been for the last few hours.

It was the immediate reaction on finding the satin textured, cream colored envelope sitting on the floor of my flea-bag apartment when I got back in from grocery shopping.

The envelope contained their wedding invitation inviting me to attend the glorious union of Tom Underhill and Rebecca Kennedy at two PM on Saturday the fourteenth of September.

I’d dropped the envelope, ran to the toilet as bile rose right up into my throat and threw up everything I’d had since fourth grade.

Then I must have lost my mind as I left the said flea-bag apartment and went walking, and somehow ended up here at The Hideaway, a night club.

It was eight o’clock.

I should have been at home prepping to start my new job tomorrow, not here.

I wasn’t even dressed up. The blue summer dress I wore was more fitting for a quick trip to the supermarket or a walk in the park. Definitely not for mingling with the Tuesday night partygoers at a sassy club.

And my stomach still felt queasy.

It was so stupid. This reaction. I shouldn’t have felt like this.

Tom hadn’t been mine for a long time, but what gripped me was the hurt I felt. The hurt and despair from the rejection.

Four months ago when Tom and Becca told me they were together, and had been for a while, I dealt with it.

At that time, Tom and I had been on a break for eight months and I’d just buried my father.

I thought the break was Tom’s way of helping me while I needed to care for my father during the time he needed me most. I thought we’d simply get back together at some point because we’d been together for so long.

But he had no intention to do that.

He’d acted like he’d done me a favor.

Doing me a favor would have been to end things properly with me and not crush me with news of being with Becca.

Back then I didn’t have the strength to accept the truth for what it was. That they’d been seeing each other behind my back for God knew how long. Or, that while I was at my lowest going through all manner of shit the man I loved was screwing my best friend.

For the last four months I’d gone through the motions of trying to pick up the pieces of my life, and bereave my father.

Like a shell, I felt hollow inside and the person who used to be me was lost in the void somewhere.

Today though… the bubble popped. It snapped like someone stuck it with a sharp pin and landed me on my ass that was already at rock bottom.

Today was when I actually woke up, and reality slapped me with all the emotions I’d suppressed.

The loss of my father had displaced time around me and I had no grasp of anything until today when I held the wedding invite and life as it was stared me in the face.

Tom was getting married to Becca, my father was dead, I was broke, in debt and in Chicago waiting to start a new job that was several downgrades from the career I worked my ass off for.

That was my life summed up in a nutshell and it sucked.

I hated it.

Worse yet, I hated that I couldn’t have seen Tom for who he was. Becca too.

I hated that I allowed them to get to me now, and that I’d allowed them to damage the little strength I had.

All I should have had on my mind was healing my broken heart from the loss of my dear father, and getting back into the career I loved.

Just those two things, nothing else.

I didn’t need confirmation of how much Tom loved Becca.

“Would you like some more water?” The bartender asked.

I turned my attention to him and blinked.

Water.

My brain was in a state of tumult.

I was going to need something a lot stronger than that.

What I needed was an escape from the torment that had filled my mind. I needed an escape from life.

My attention was drawn to a pretty blonde woman in a bubblegum pink dress who laughed out loud. She sat on the opposite side of the bar with a man who seemed to be dazzling her with sauciness. They’d been there since before I came in, which was well over an hour now.

The woman looked happy and carefree.

I didn’t know when I would feel happy again, but maybe I could do carefree.

“Can I have what she’s having?” I asked motioning towards her with my chin.

The bartender chuckled and nodded, allowing one of his dreadlocks to fall over his eye. I’d seen him take a pink colored cocktail over to her in one of those tall glasses with lemon on the side and blue syrup drizzled around the rim. It looked cool.

“That’s a real strong drink sweetheart, do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes.” I said firmly. Maybe a little too firm, but damn it to hell yes I wanted a strong drink and yes I could handle it.

The smile on his face grew. “Okay I’ll mix one up for you.”

Minutes later I had my drink before me. It was called Angels on Sex.

No wonder the woman ordered it.

“Go easy on it. Sipping is best to start.” He advised.

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I picked up the glass and instead of the sip I was advised to take, I took a huge gulp.

Immediately, I grimaced at the sharp, searing taste of vodka contrasted with sugar syrup strawberries.

It sent a hot shiver through my whole body as it hit the back of my throat, making my skin burn and tingle.

Damn the stuff was seriously strong. Maybe I should have sipped and taken it easy as advised, especially since I normally kept drinking to a minimum.

But screw it. I needed this.

Once the tingling and burning feeling left, a sense of calm spread over my brain, having an effect similar to taking a painkiller and feeling it starting to work.

I practically downed the rest of the drink, and Jesus it felt like I’d overdosed on pure happy.

I had to close my eyes, squeezing them shut at the sensational intensity. When I opened them again I saw the bartender standing before me with a glass of water.

“Drink this it will help balance things out.” He smirked.

“Thank you.” I took the glass from him and sipped on the water.

The balance he spoke of came along with the buzz I was going for.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yes, could I have another one of those drinks.”

“Sure, but make sure you drink the water.” He winked at me as he sauntered away.

I loosened my ponytail, allowing my platinum blonde locks to tumble down my shoulders and spill down to the center of my back.

I could see my reflection from the mirror behind the drink rack that I looked better, and more fitting to the setting.

When the bartender came back I noticed he gave me that once over look most guys did when I let my hair down. It was a look I’d grown accustomed to ignoring because I was with Tom.

I didn’t have to do that anymore.

“Enjoy.” He smiled with another wink and left me.

I started on it straightaway. Thankfully since I was used to the taste I went straight to the enjoyment and lapped up the buzz that filled me. Another one of these and I’d be drunk.

I knew my limit and didn’t want to start my new job tomorrow with a hangover.

This mellowness was good.

It numbed that part of my brain that ached from all I’d been through, putting it on pause so I could calm down.

Calm down enough to entice that carefree vibe I needed right now to escape.

As the alcohol worked its way into my bloodstream I allowed my thoughts to drift.

I closed my eyes again, tuning the music out and the people around me.

Focusing, breathing, focusing, steadying my breath.

Good… it was working.

I’d come to Chicago for a fresh start.

I had more important things to deal with than Tom and Becca. Bigger fish to fry.

I couldn’t allow them to get to me.

They were both as bad as each other and bad for me. Tom had been a terrible boyfriend with all his negativity, and criticism, and Becca had always kept me in her shadow. I’d known her practically since birth, and it was always the same. I was second best.

When they came to tell me they were together –two days after my father’s funeral –that fucking bitch had the audacity to act like I should be happy for them.

Fuck them.

Fuck them both, and life too for taking my father.

Defiance filled me as the buzz danced through my veins.

I was checking out of reality, just for tonight.

Tomorrow I’d start again with this job.

Just for tonight I’d be someone else.

Not Summer Daniels. The high achieving Miss Goody Two Shoes.

The music changed to a song I recognized and I opened my eyes. It was Touch Me, one of those songs that could bring out the sexy in me no matter how I felt.

Up by the bar, the volume had been kept to a low beat so people could enjoy the music and still hold a conversation.

Just like the cocktail, the chilled beat did something to me, lulling me towards it.

I was on the second level. I looked down to the main dance floor and saw all the fun everyone was having there and at the three other bars that circled it.

I wanted that too. Fun. Carefree fun.

How long had it been since I danced?

My body moved even before my brain could register that I was moving, and straight down the steps I went allowing the music to envelope me.

Swirling lights spiraled over me as I took my descent, immersing myself into the vibes.

The beat pumped through every single fiber of my body.

I found a good spot where I could move freely. Then I got sucked into the music and allowed it to move me in whatever way it chose.

Sexy, that’s what I felt like as I ran my hands over my head, down my chest and onwards to my waist. Soon, like everyone I was completely lost in the sounds of smooth sexiness.

It had been too long since I’d allowed myself a moment to relax, or just to stop and indulge in nothingness. Like now, dancing to the music with no thought other than to enjoy the beat, and enjoy the calmness that had settled over my mind.

I would have indulged in the temptation to become truly lost if I didn’t suddenly feel the distinct impression of eyes focused on me.

The club was packed, heaving with people and there were a lot of guys looking at me as I danced, but the magnetism and intensity of the stare was so strong that I had to see where it was coming from.

When I twirled around I stopped mid sway, locking my gaze with a man standing by the column near the doors that led out to the roof top terrace. The raised platform he stood on allowed him to tower over the people that danced around him.

It was him…

He was the one looking at me.

That was where the heated, penetrated blaze I felt came from, and he was still focusing on me.

This man was what I would have called deadly handsome and had the kind of gorgeousness you’d see on the Hollywood heart throbs women swooned over. The flashing club lights bounced off his blonde spiky hair and made his light eyes look brighter.

He was tall, standing over six feet and displayed a body that was all muscle with a mile wide chest that looked toned even from where I stood.

He oozed style with his black blazer and white button up shirt. The top buttons lay open allowing me to see corded muscle and just make out hints of a tattoo in the flickering lights.

I didn’t know what impressed me more. The confident, cocky manner in which he stood, or the masterpiece he was.

And… he was still looking at me, giving me his complete undivided attention, doing something to me that I couldn’t quite describe and hadn’t felt before.

It was like he paralyzed my mind and spoke to my inner desire. Then as if he knew what he was doing to me, a slow satisfied smile crept up the corners of his sensual mouth making him look sexier.

Feeling embarrassed for staring the way I was, I turned away and changed my movements to a light sway.

The song was still going, it was in its height of the beat. A guy shuffled closer

to me and started dancing.

He was cute. Not as gorgeous as Mr. Perfect over by the column but cute, and seemed to be a little goofy too.

More what I would class as my type. He got me back into my flow and I would have continued dancing with him if I didn’t catch sight of Mr. Perfect now standing amongst the crowd, eyes locked on me.

The lights flickered on him. Blue, red, gold, green, but didn’t mask the sexiness that radiated from him or the fact that he was fixated on me.

I slowed my movements again, unable to look away like I had before.

I was the last person to stare at anyone because I thought it was rude, but this man made me want to stare.

Someone bumped into me from behind, breaking the connection. It was only then that I turned away.

I’d lost Mr. Goofy in that little shuffle and was now surrounded by a bunch of guys who looked at me like I was fresh meat. One started dancing with me. He was gorgeous with his shoulder length locks and that laid back style.

Again, though, not like Mr. Perfect who I’d seemed to lose.

Maybe this was a little too much carefree for me. I wasn’t here to pick up guys.

I should go. Go back to the apartment. I’d had the drink and danced myself silly if only for a few minutes, but me dancing with all these guys was probably a bad idea.

I shuffled away from them and headed back up to the stairs where the beat was chilled.

I was about to turn the corner for the exit when the warmth of a strong, large hand grabbed mine, stopping me.

Twisting to look, I found myself gazing up at Mr. Perfect, who towered me with his height and that fascinating masculine presence.

“You couldn’t possibly be leaving yet.” He said in a deep, alluring voice that immediately captured me.

His eyes roamed over my body and I allowed myself to look at him too.

I didn’t think it was possible, but the man was hotter up close.

His face was all angles with a chiseled jaw, tanned skin and a five o’clock shadow.

Those compelling eyes riveted me to the spot, looking at me in a way that did sinful things to my body. I saw pure, raw desire in them.

Being this close also allowed me to see his eye color.

They were gray, like silver. Very unusual looking, almost otherworldly reminding me of a smoky cloud.

“Yes.” I answered realizing that I was simply staring and hadn’t answered him. I also noted that his hand was still clasped around mine.

“Don’t tell me I’m the only one who felt that back there.” The slow easy smile widened in a cunning way.

“What?” I acted like I didn’t know what he meant, but I knew.

If I didn’t know anything else it was that, whatever that was. And, I felt it now.

“Attraction.” He cajoled.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” He nodded. “Pure energy with the power to evoke and control.”

“You make it sound like an actual thing.”

“It is, and there are rules.” The smile up close was well and truly sexy too. It paralyzed me.

At least I had to give him credit for being original with his pick-up lines, but then guys like him didn’t have to worry about what they said.

“Like a game?”

“Yes, exactly like a game. And, we just got chosen to play.” I noticed the way he lingered on the word play.

“We?” I smiled inched across my face. Yup, definitely original, and not bad at all.

He nodded.

“What are the rules?” Why did I ask? That was letting trouble take me, but some part of me reached out for this attention.

“Don’t fight attraction, do what it tells you. That’s the first rule. So I can’t allow the most beautiful woman here to leave without dancing with me first.”

God, what should I say to that?

An electrifying shudder reverberated through me.

I was a wreck inside, and didn’t exactly look my best on the outside, but this perfect man thought I was beautiful, and he was still holding my hand.

It had been awhile since I felt beautiful, and definitely not in the last few months.

His gaze, bold and assessing dropped from my eyes, to my shoulders, to my breasts, then drifted casually down the rest of me. The look was so galvanizing that it sent a tremor through my body and scattered my nerves.

“I should –”

This guy was one of those that spelled trouble, and I didn’t need trouble right now. I usually avoided guys like that. The cocky, arrogant sort that were usually assholes. But what did I know? After Tom I could hardly claim to be a good judge of character.

“Dance with me, angel.” Magical words which charmed me. Jauntily, he cocked his blonde head to the side.

“Dance?”

“Yes,” he stepped towards me and suddenly I became aware of how close we were standing. He dipped his head low to my ear, and with a low, seductive voice said, “I liked the way you danced. It was damn sexy. The guys who got close to you were lucky. I just want a chance too.”

I considered it and allowed the fantasy of dancing with him to take over.

How could I resist a dance with a truly handsome man who thought I was the most beautiful woman here?