“THAT’LL BE TWENTY-THREE fifty.”

I peered out of the back of the taxi cab window at the nondescript black building the driver had stopped in front of. Even though it was centered in the middle of Club Row, it looked like nothing more than a deserted warehouse. No sign, no visible entrance. No line of people waiting to get in, just a crowded sidewalk of people walking right past it.

Shit. I leaned back in the seat with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose. This had been a mistake.

“Did you hear me, son?” the driver said. “That’ll be twenty-three fifty.”

What do you think you’re doing, Jackson? It’s not too late to turn around… “Look, are you sure you’ve got the right place?” I asked.

The driver met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “I spend every night droppin’ guys off here. Yeah, it’s the right one.”

Glancing out again at the building that should’ve been Argos, South Haven’s most popular nightclub, at least according to the hotel clerk I’d spoken with earlier, I waited to see if anyone would sneak inside some hidden door or something, but there didn’t even seem to be an entrance.

“It’s in the back,” the man said, pointing at a couple of guys who slipped out of the crowd and turned down a narrow side street. The more I watched, the more I noticed others doing the same.

The coil of nerves in my stomach tightened, but my resolve—and curiosity—was stronger. I hadn’t come all this way to chicken out at the last minute, and there was no telling if he’d even be here anyway. I’d just go in, get a good look, enough to satiate my curiosity, and then leave.

With my mind made up, I pulled a couple of crisp twenties out of my wallet and handed it to the driver. “Thanks for your help,” I said, cracking open the door, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Hey, wait, kid. I don’t carry change.”

“Keep it.” Shrugging off his hand, I stepped out of the cab and onto the busy sidewalk, turned down the side street, and stopped in my tracks. There was, indeed, an entrance, and a thumping techno beat filtered out from the cracked door that was guarded by a burly man with a take-no-shit expression. Above him, in unilluminated grey cursive that almost blended into the paint, was the word Argos, and outside the door was a line that stretched at least half the length of a football field.

As I scanned over the faces, half hoping I’d seen the one I’d come for, two things struck me. One, the line didn’t seem to be moving. And two, they were all men.

What the hell kind of place was this? A redundant question, of course, because I knew the answer to that. Just as I should’ve realized where my search would ultimately lead.

Yeah, this was a mistake, all right, I thought, as several of the men in line nudged their friends to look in my direction, each of them sizing me up, and by the grins that crossed their faces, they liked what they saw.

Shit.

I’d never been on the receiving end of such blatant perusals by other men—well, not since Lucas, anyway—and the urge to get out of there was so strong I practically tripped over my feet as I backed away—and ran smack into a hard body.

“Well, hello there, sexy.” The man chuckled as he helped me right myself. Well, I was pretty sure he was a man. In high-heeled boots and a face full of makeup, he stood tall in front of me, a match for my six-foot-two frame, though he was on the slim side. He wore tight leather pants and an off-the-shoulder black shirt, and with his pitch-black hair slicked back from his face, he was a striking figure—and one that would never be seen back home in Hawthorne, Connecticut. There was an amused tilt to his red-lined lips as he let me silently take him in, and he didn’t seem bothered at all when I jerked out of his grasp. “Where you runnin’ off to so fast?”

“I didn’t… This isn’t…” I shook my head. “It’s not my thing.”

“Nonsense,” he said, a Southern twang to his words. “Dancing is everyone’s thing.”

I didn’t have time to protest because he wrapped a lithe arm around my shoulder and, with a strength that belied his frame, pulled me toward the entrance, bypassing the line completely. Stopping just long enough to kiss his fingertips before pressing it to the cheek of the guard, he smiled and said, “He’s with me.”

No. No, I’m not with him, I wanted to say, but then we were inside, bypassing yet another line of people waiting to pay, but the man still holding on to me merely waved with the tips of his fingers as we passed. Was he the owner or something? Did he work here or was he just a VIP? But another question weighed more on my mind as the room opened up into a large space crammed full of bodies—what would he expect in return for getting me inside?

“I’m Sebastian, by the way, but my friends call me Bash,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. As his arm left my shoulder, his hand trailed down to squeeze my bicep, and then he threw me a cheeky grin before pulling his hand away. “Mmm, you are quite the muscle man, aren’t you. Got a name?”

To answer or not to answer. My plan to sneak in without notice had failed already, but Sebastian seemed harmless enough. “Jackson.”

Sebastian’s smile grew, his white teeth gleaming under the black lights. “Well, Jackson, I hope you enjoy yourself. Maybe grab a drink first to loosen up.”

As he began to walk off, I found myself saying, “Wait…that’s it?” Not that I was complaining about him ditching me already, but I’d expected to have to fight off an advance or something. God, that made me sound like an asshole, but why else would he go through the trouble of helping me out if he didn’t want anything in return?

Sebastian pivoted on his heel to face me. “You seem like you’re here for a reason,” he said, giving me a playful wink. “But let me know if you don’t find what you’re lookin’ for.”

Yep. I was the asshole. But screw it—he seemed to be a man with connections, so maybe he knew who I’d come to get a glimpse of. Come on, just spit it out. “Actually, maybe you can help me. Do you know where I can find Lucas Sullivan?”

One of Sebastian’s eyebrows arched. “What do you want with Lucas?”

Oh God, he knows him. I swallowed hard, the tension in my body back. I was close, so close I could practically feel him, but I struggled to remain casual. “So you know him?”

“Maybe.”

Okaay. I looked out over the vast warehouse. Lucas could be anywhere, and it was so dark he could pass me and I probably wouldn’t realize it. “Do you know where he usually, uh…hangs out? When he’s here?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Sebastian took a step toward me, crossing into my personal space. “What do you want with Lucas, handsome?”

“He’s, uh…” How to explain who Lucas was to me without going into over eight years of history? I didn’t know this man, though, and I didn’t owe him any explanation. “A friend of mine,” I said, and by the way Sebastian’s painted lips thinned into a straight line, I could tell that wasn’t the right answer.

“Oh, honey.” He sighed, and the look he gave me was sympathetic. “A sweet thing like you? Sorry, but I’m not gonna help you there.” He patted my face and then backed away, letting the crowd swallow him into the dance floor and out of sight.

Great, what the hell was that about? And why was he so cagey about Lucas? It was obvious he knew him, and I was in the right place…it was just a matter of wading through the club-goers.

Yeah, this called for a drink first.

The bar was thick with customers by the time I made my way over there, but either luck or my size had the crowd parting, so I took the lone empty barstool and waited patiently for one of the bartenders to look my way. I’d never been one to wave cash or yell or whistle to get attention—I never had to where I was from, and though I’d never been to Argos before, it only took a few seconds for one of the guys behind the bar to glance my way.

He was an intimidating mountain of a man, tall and muscular, with dark hair at the roots that melted into blond spikes, diamond studs in his ears, and there were tattoos covering every inch of his body that could be seen. There were even tattoos covering his neck above his neatly knotted black tie, and as he came over to stand in front of me, I knew he’d caught me staring, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. He was a contradiction: everything about him screamed bad boy, but his attire, down to the black vest he wore over his shirt and tie, said something else entirely. A quick glance down the bar told me there wasn’t a dress code, since everyone seemed to have a different personal style on display, and it made me curious about the man behind the bar. The one staring at me with his eyebrow raised and his hands spread wide on the bar top. He gave me a long once-over, taking his time, and when his eyes met mine, he smirked.

I wasn’t one to get embarrassed easily, but this guy had heat rushing to my face, and had I not been there for a reason, I probably would’ve hightailed it out of there.

Like a fucking pussy.

“You need somethin’, or you just here for the view?” the bartender said, his voice deep and rough, sandpaper on a sunburn.

“No, I wasn’t… I mean, I don’t…” Shit, Jackson, get a grip. It’s not like you were checking him out because you’re interested. “I’ll just have a Sam Adams.”

“Right.” The man whose nametag read “Shaw” grabbed a cold one out of the fridge and popped the top off. “Starting a tab?”

“Just the one for now,” I said, sliding my card across the bar and then taking a swig of the beer. It was ice cold, and a welcome relief for my dry throat.

“Where you from?”

I glanced up at the bartender, who was watching me as he capped a shaker and went about mixing the contents.

“How do you know I’m not from here?” I asked.

He poured the contents of the shaker across the line of shot glasses, filling them to the top, and then gave my khakis and white t-shirt a pointed look. “And that was before you opened your mouth.”

I frowned and looked down at my clothes. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Look around.”

A quick glance at those lined up at the bar revealed just how horribly out of place I was. I looked like a preppy frat boy in a sea of jeans and leather.

“Well, thank you for the fashion advice”—I looked at the bartender’s nametag again—“Shaw.”

“Eh, don’t worry, Yank. I’m sure it’ll only help you get laid.”

Yeah, if the looks I was on the receiving end of were any indication, there were plenty of guys around to help me out of my fashion faux pas. Jesus, what am I doing here? I’d lost my mind. That was the only explanation.

Shaw nodded at my almost-empty beer. “Want another, Jersey boy?”

“Jersey boy?”

“Isn’t that where you’re from?”

“Connecticut.”

He shrugged and popped the top off a bottle of beer before passing it to the guy next to me. “Close enough.”

Turning the bottle in my hands, I debated whether to grab another one and stay or whether to get out now before I called any more attention to myself. Before I could make up my mind, Shaw slid another full bottle in front of me.

“You look like you need it.”

With a sigh, I downed the rest of the first beer and then lifted the second one in salute. “Thanks, but I think this was a bad idea.”

“The beer or coming here?”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t offend him. Had I known it was a gay club, I’d still be back at the hotel.

“Ah,” he said, his perceptive eyes catching my drift. “First time?”

“Sort of.” And what came out of my mouth next I had no explanation for, other than the beer had relaxed me and this guy seemed harmless enough. Besides, I didn’t know anyone there, and I’d never see them again, so what did it matter? “I’m in town for a few days and thought I’d…see about someone I used to know.”

“And now you’re thinking that was a mistake.”

Pointing my beer at him, I said, “Bingo.”

“This guy have a name?”

I nodded.

Shaw waited for an answer, and when it was apparent I wasn’t going to offer more, he laughed. “Well, if you need me to point you in his direction, let me know. Or if you just want to get it off your chest…” He shrugged. “I’m a vault.”

A vault, huh? The thought was tempting. I’d never been able to talk to anyone about Lucas before. And maybe if I could just see him then I’d realize I’d exaggerated everything in my mind and that the feelings I’d had back then were nothing more than a crush. A simple infatuation caused by loneliness and lack of options.

Leaning over the bar, Shaw met me halfway, and I whispered the name of the person I still tasted on my tongue when I closed my eyes at night.

“Really?” Shaw said, his eyes widened slightly as he straightened. “Well, if that’s who you have your eye on, you’re gonna need something a lot stronger than that. Especially tonight,” he said, nodding at the beer in my hand, and then he pulled two shot glasses from beneath the bar and filled them with tequila.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Instead of my card, I pulled out cash from my pocket and held it out to him. “Thanks.”

“This one’s on the house.”

“Then keep it,” I said, shoving the fifty in his tip jar, as Shaw raised a brow. Then I picked up one of the shot glasses and, before I could think too much about it, gulped it down. The burn left my throat raw, but I picked up the second glass anyway, drinking it in one gulp and letting the trail of fire it left in its wake spread to my chest and through my veins. I should’ve done this earlier. Liquid courage first, tracking down Lucas second. I hadn’t even worked out what I would say to him if I saw him. Too many years had passed without a word. Would he even remember me now? High school was a long time ago, and maybe what had happened hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to me.

This had been stupid. A stupid, spur-of-the-moment mistake.

I should go. Get out of here before I did something really dumb, like actually find the guy and…do what, exactly? Way to think things through.

When I pushed the empty shot glass away and stood up, Shaw eyed me curiously, and he seemed to be debating with himself about something. Then his gaze traveled around the club, searching for someone. “If it’s Sully boy you want, he’s over there in the corner.”

It took me a minute to work out that he was talking about Lucas, and like he’d shocked me with a defibrillator, I jerked around, looking over at where Shaw had indicated. I couldn’t see him at first, only a crowd of bodies, some of whom were half-naked already, grinding on each other or dancing on their own. But then…

But then for a brief, flickering moment, the crowd parted, and the boy I’d once known came into view, only he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man—the most striking man I’d ever seen in my life, and the only one who’d ever had an effect on me. My body hummed, suddenly alive and aware as my focus zeroed in on Lucas and my cock stirred.

He’d shot up at least a couple of inches taller than I remembered, maybe about six one now, but he had the air of a man much larger, one who owned the room and everyone in it. With a cocky half-smile on his face, he eye-fucked the guy he was dancing with as those around him watched his every move, as though waiting for a chance to be the one who had his attention.

God, I couldn’t blame them. He was magnetic, his lean, muscular body undulating to the beat, and his head falling back as he lost himself in the music. His hair was shorter now, but just as inky black from what I could tell under the colored lights that flashed across his body, and I had the ridiculous urge to run my fingers through it the way I’d done the last time I’d seen him.

As the song changed into a slow-building track, his partner pulled a tiny bottle out of his pocket and twisted off the cap. Then he passed it to Lucas, who inhaled deeply in each nostril before passing it back for the guy to do the same. A few seconds later, as the music began to throb, Lucas moved in close, way too close, and arched into the guy so that the man’s hands fell to Lucas’s chest. Then he trailed his fingers down Lucas’s abdomen, dipping past the waist of his jeans—and I saw fucking red. Which was stupid, because he didn’t belong to me, and I didn’t even know him anymore.

So why do I care?

But when Lucas grabbed the guy’s wrists and flipped him around so his backside was against Lucas’s front, I let out the breath I’d been holding—though my relief would prove to be short-lived. Because then Lucas’s mouth moved to the man’s ear, and he whispered something that had the other guy biting his lip, and God, I wished whatever those words were, they had been spoken to me instead. The scene before me had my heart beating faster and my dick twitching as Lucas licked a path up the guy’s neck while his hand moved down to cup between his thighs.

Fuuuck. I knew exactly where this was heading, and what it was like to be the focus of that man’s attention, and the hunger for something I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing was like nothing I’d ever felt.

I had to get out of there. But I couldn’t bring myself to stop watching. I needed to see this. Needed to see that he’d moved on. That I no longer knew the man only a few feet away from me. That he was no longer my Lucas.

As if he’d heard me say his name out loud, Lucas’s eyes flicked up and met mine from across the room, and I caught fire.

My heart clenched.

Time stopped.

And Lucas’s smile fell.