Do you ever get the feeling that time’s running out? You know the one I’m talking about. The feeling of dread that takes hold when life’s going too well, when everything seems perfect, and rather than enjoy it, you sit patiently on the sidelines waiting, just waiting, for the other shoe to drop. Because at one point or another, it will.

That feeling, that sense of this-is-too-good-to-be-true has been flitting around my brain for the past week, and I can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard I try.

On the weekend, we’re forced to leave my apartment. It’s weird, because Jesse and I are both social people, but we both find ourselves wanting to stay in and…relax.

I was enjoying every single moment relaxing with Jesse.

But on Saturday night, Liza invited us to Bailey’s, a local pub-restaurant where her cousin, Craig, is performing a stand-up routine. I’m not one for comics—I always thought comedians were a teensy bit mean-hearted—but it’s Scott’s birthday, so we couldn’t flake, especially after we canceled plans with them the past two weekends in a row.

Of course, Liza was the first person I told about Jesse and me taking it to the next level. She pressed for specifics, just as I knew she would, but I decided to keep most of the details to myself, simply because I wanted Jesse all for myself. What we do, how our bodies come together, how we connect, is special and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And I don’t want to share that with anyone other than Jesse.

“You made it!” Liza jumps up from her barstool and tosses her arms around me.

I hug her back. “Why wouldn’t we be here?” I release Liza as my eyes drift to Scott and wrap him in my arms. “Happy Birthday!”

“I never know with you two anymore.” Liza wiggles her eyebrows. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be able to find your way out of the bedroom.”

“Stop.” I swat at her. “Did you put our name in for a table?”

“Twenty minutes ago.” Liza’s eyes dance around the room. “This place is packed.”

“Yeah.” I lean back into Jesse and he bands an arm around my waist. I sigh in pleasure. I love his hands on me.

I wiggle my ass against him and his grip tightens around my waist. He dips his head to whisper my ear. “Don’t get me hard, baby.”

I keep my voice innocent even though I’m anything but. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He grinds against my ass and speaks low enough so only I can hear him. “You know how much I love your ass.” He leans in a bit closer. “And how much I want to fuck it.”

My pulse spikes as heat floods my face.

“You okay?” Liza questions, brows pinching together.

“Yeah.” My voice is breathy, so I clear my throat. “I just… I need a drink.”

Jesse’s lips twitch. “What do you want?” The question is innocent enough, but the quick nip of his teeth at my neck and slow sway of his hips against my backside cause my skin to erupt in goose pimples.

Liza catches the gesture. “You two make me sick.” She rolls her eyes in mock disgust and turns back toward Scott.

Jesse thinks he’s won, but two can play this game. I survey the crowded room. The lights are dim, and the overhang of the bar mostly shields us. Liza and Scott are talking to the couple seated to their right… I remain facing forward but reach my arm behind me. My fingers find him and circle his hard length. He hisses and he pinches my hip.

Dropping my voice I say, “I think I need something just like this.”

“Fuck, Ry.” He groans as my hand slides up again more firmly.

“What?” I say, just as he interlaces his fingers with my other hand and pulls me away. He tugs me behind him as he calls over his shoulder to Liza and Scott. “We’ll be right back.”

I have no idea where he’s taking me, but I’m game. I keep wondering when this insane hunger, this undeniable need will be satisfied, but a large part of me hopes it never will be sated.

I giggle as he pulls me down the length of the bar toward the bathrooms, but the smile dies on my lips as my eyes land on the man seated at the end of the bar, a man whom I hoped to never see again: Jason.

* * *

Jesse jerks to a stop a few seconds after he realizes I’m no longer walking behind him. He inclines his head over his shoulder, eyes questioning. He must notice my pale skin, my wide, fearful eyes, because he immediately drops my hand and turns to face me. “Riley?” He rests his hands on both my hips.

But I don’t answer. Can’t answer.

“Riley?” he questions again, and this prompts the man’s attention.

The man spins on his barstool and his eyes land right on me. They narrow as he tries to sort who I am. It takes him a moment, but then a sleazy smile stretches across his face and he says, “Round Two?”

My blood turns to ice. It’s been almost four years, four freakin’ years, and I run into him now? Here of all places. What the fuck?

Jesse wraps a protective arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. “Ry, baby. Are you okay?”

Jason’s eyes drag over my skin, and I hate everything about him, from his thin moustache to his beady eyes to his sharp, pointy nose. I can’t believe I slept with him. That he could have been a father to—

Jason’s voice penetrates my thoughts. “Hey, man, I’m Jason.” He extends his hand toward Jesse.

I witness the exact moment when understanding dawns, because Jesse releases me and moves me aside. “Jason?” he questions through a clenched jaw.

“Yeah…” Jason’s nervous eyes dart to me then back to Jesse, who looks like he’s ready to attack.

“So, you’re the piece of shit who hurt Riley?” Jesse’s voice roars over the din of the bar, gaining everyone’s attention. Liza and Scott pause mid-conversation and amble toward us.

“Jesse.” My voice begs. “Please. Let’s just go.”

But he either doesn’t hear me or simply ignores my request.

“Look.” Jason holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not looking for any trouble. What happened between me and…” His eyes find me again and I cringe, “her was a long time—”

Crack. Jesse’s fist connects with Jason’s nose, and I swear the snap of the bone is as loud and awkward as a needle dragging across a record mid-song. There’s a stunned silence before all hell breaks loose. People push and shove, and I’m forced forward. Shouting and shuffling blocks out Liza’s voice, but I watch her lips move, eyes wide with confusion.

A man, I’m guessing one of Jason’s friends, helps Jason to his feet. Blood gushes down his face, and his nose is bent at a weird angle. It’s definitely broken.

“What the fuck?” Jason screams, and blood trickles from his mouth. He brushes his friend’s arm away. His eyes narrow on me in an angry, hateful stare. He shakes his head, “All this and she wasn’t even a decent lay.”

“Son of a bitch!” Jesse’s body is a blur as he lunges forward and grabs Jason by his shirt. “You fucking piece of shit.” The patrons leave a wide berth as the two wrestle to the ground. One moment Jason’s on top, the next, Jesse. Punches are thrown, insults exchanged, a mixture of sweat, blood, and grit.

A distant siren rings in the background, growing louder and closer with each passing second. The cops. “Jesse!” I scream. “Jesse! Stop!”

He pushes himself to stand, his figure looming over Jason, who is curled on his side in the fetal position. Jesse sneers at him. “If you so much as look at her ever again, I will kill you.”

My eyes drift to the back door, where four uniformed policemen are plowing through the mob of people who have gathered around. When they make their way to us, their eyes jump between Jesse, standing with palms clenched and hard eyes, to Jason, who is lying on the floor, writhing in pain.

When the taller officer speaks to Jesse, the words hit me like a solid punch to the gut. “You have the right to remain silent…”

Everything fades away, and the last thing I remember is the click of metal as the handcuffs are fastened to Jesse’s wrists.

I think the other shoe just fucking dropped.