I'm pretty sure everyone near me can hear the frantic beating of my heart. Being that close to Andrew Powers is mind blowing. And of course I had to hurry away from him and be a total bitch.

It's what I have to do to protect myself.

My body’s trembling with uneasiness as I move farther away in hopes that I’m able to control my anxiety. On the outside, I’m a coldhearted bitch, but on the inside, my body is on hyperdrive, and I can’t calm down.

Do I believe that Andrew would hurt me? No, of course not, but I need to always be in control. I have to be the one calling the shots. If things go any other way, my world tilts, and I feel unstable. Instability’s something I can’t function with.

As soon as I'm outside, I rush to an awaiting cab and get inside. When I close the door, I immediately push down the lock just for safe measure.

“Where to, ma’am?”

I shift my gaze toward the voice, and an instant relief washes over me. A woman driver smiles back at me. She’s a burly woman who is three times my size but a woman nonetheless.

I ramble off my Lake Shore Drive address as I lean back against the seat, my pulse slowing as calmness settles over me. The cab begins to ease forward, and I look to my right one last time to find Andrew still standing near the front entrance of the club. His dress shirt’s unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up his arms, showing off his strong forearms.

I’m not blind. I noticed instantly how attractive he was. Strong jawline, broad shoulders, the epitome of perfection. He screams confidence, and this realization hits me hard. He handles himself well, and I want to go back and spend time with him. If I show him any attention, then I’ll be giving him the wrong idea, and I don’t want that to happen.

My cheeks heat as his gaze connects with mine before I can no longer see him.

I knew, if I had met him prior to Zane, I wouldn’t have been in a cab, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. But those times of giving in to temptation are over. Men like Drew have expectations. They want women with experience and kink. I'm not that woman.

The dominance he exuded made me nervous. I told myself leaving was the best thing.

This night isn’t what I expected. I met Russ for a purpose—to scratch an itch. Russ is safe. Yes, he’s the furthest from my type, but he’s safe. He’s one of my go-to men, one I can control, and he never tries to take that from me. He’s older, a divorcé. He’d do just about anything I asked if it meant he would gain something in return. Something being, a quick round of mind-blowing sex—for him, not me. It was mediocre at best. Again, it served a purpose.

Now, the idea of sleeping with Russ gives me an uneasy feeling.

Why I felt that taking Russ home was suddenly forbidden is beyond me. It’s not like it’d have been the first time.

The cab pulls along the curb just outside my apartment, and I offer the fare plus a generous tip before moving toward the door.

“Have a nice evening,” the cab driver says, offering a casual wave before driving away.

Entering the building, I politely smile to Henry, the door attendant on duty, as I move toward the elevator. While waiting for it to arrive, my mind wanders back to Andrew and his persistence.

Why was he so adamant that I join them?

He doesn’t know me. I’m sure he only saw me as a new target. Someone he could get comfortable with and keep on the side for those moments when the mood struck him, and there was no one else around.

A toy to play with.

Well, I have news for Mr. Powers. I’m no man’s toy.

The chirp of the elevator regains my attention, and I step to the side just as the doors slide open. Once it’s empty, I step inside and press for floor six. Then, I lean back toward the wall and focus on the lit panel above. Doing my best to keep my mind off the searing look that Andrew offered as the cab pulled away, I remain focused on the fact that, even though he might be handsome and alluring, he’s a man, and all men are the same.

I step inside the apartment and jump at the sound of Aimee’s voice as it carries throughout the space.

“Alone?” she asks.

“Yep,” I say with a shrug as I pull off one heel and then the other. “I wasn’t feeling it.”

“Yeah, Russ doesn’t seem like he’s packing to impress, so I see that.” She snickers at her own joke when I narrow my eyes at her. “What? I’m not sure how you can even go out with that man. He isn’t anyone I’ve ever imagined you being attracted to.”

My love life, if you can even categorize it as that, is one thing Aimee and I rarely discuss. It isn’t for her lack of trying. I'm tremendously good at avoiding those topics. It’s easier to play it off as if I truly were attracted to Russ and his type.

“He’s sweet, and he makes me feel like no other woman out there matters,” I say, moving past the space where she’s lying back on the couch.

“That’s because he’s in complete awe and most likely in shock that he landed a woman with your looks,” she adds.

Instead of biting back and taking the chance of this conversation veering off into territory I want to steer clear of, I choose to change the subject. “What are you doing home anyway? I thought you were going out with the guy you met at the café? What was his name? Lyle or Kyle?”

“Changed my mind.” She dismissively waves her hand.

“Because?” I push, knowing there’s a story.

“He’s a whore,” she says. “I saw him kissing Maggie from HR near the elevators, and I decided to cut ties. If it was Bridget instead of Maggie, I might have been down for a little ménage à trois.”

I choke on the water I’d just taken a sip of and lean over, trying to regain control.

“Seriously, you remember Bridget?”

I turn just in time to see her holding her hands out in front of herself, indicating a large set of breasts.

“I’ve never tried it, but for her, I think I might give it a go.” With a wag of her eyebrows in a suggestive manner, I can no longer hold back my laughter.

I adore this girl and her ability to change my sour mood in an instant.