What I need?

Is he serious?

It didn’t matter how much wine was flowing through my body. Or how hard I’d attempted to focus on what my sister was saying a few minutes ago. Or how excited I was over my brother’s game. Or how much I’d tried to distract myself with emails from my clients and vendors.

Nothing had calmed me from the moment I saw Jack outside our suite.

Nothing had made this uneasy feeling go away.

And, now, it was only worse.

He was standing so close.

And he was ridiculously good-looking.

There was no way I could stay in this spot, holding this glass filled with something that only made me more vulnerable, and pretend like I was okay.

Because being around Jack made nothing okay.

I needed air.

Air that didn’t have him in it.

“Ladies’ room,” I blurted out.

I shouldn’t have said that. I just knew I had to quickly get away from him, and that was the first thing that had come to me.

I left my wine on the bar and went around the crowd. I had no idea where I was headed. But my eyes were focused on the neon sign that hung from the ceiling, the word EXIT shining in bright red.

I pushed myself forward until I reached the door, and then I slammed my palm onto the metal handle and opened it enough where I could slip outside. Before it even shut, I had my back pushed against the building and was sucking in as much air as my lungs could hold.

Jack Hunt was the only man who made it hard for me to breathe. Who made me question the thoughts in my head. Who made me want to shed the thick, hard layer that had grown over my skin even though he was the reason it’d surrounded me in the first place.

My feelings for him should have ended the morning he’d left.

They should have started fresh the moment I’d arrived back in Miami. I should have been crushing over the guys in my dorm, like every other nineteen-year-old in my position.

But Jack had made that impossible.

“Samantha.”

My body tightened as I heard his voice through a small crack in the door.

That was the second time he had spoken my name in less than ten minutes, and the emotions it stirred was as intense as when I’d heard it eight years ago.

He moved through the door and stopped in front of me. “Most women don’t go outside to use the restroom.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you out here?”

He opened his mouth, his tongue touching the corner, rubbing the tip back and forth. “I want to talk to you.”

“So, you followed me?”

“Wouldn’t it have been worse if I’d followed you into the restroom?”

“It would have been better if you hadn’t followed me at all.”

My stare traveled down to his hand as it went into his pocket.

“Do you want me to leave, Samantha?”

I sighed. “You obviously want something from me, Jack, so why don’t you just tell me what it is?”

He smiled.

It was so sexy, I wanted to scream.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He took a step closer, and then he leaned his side into the building. “I want nothing from you. I just want to be around you.”

I pushed harder against the siding, so I wouldn’t fall. “Why?”

“Why?” A bit of surprise washed over his face. “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Stop.”

“It’s the truth.”

His gaze was too intense, so I shifted my focus to a spot behind him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Look at me, Samantha.” He waited until our eyes connected before he said, “I don’t lie. I don’t have to. You can trust whatever comes out of my mouth. So, when I say you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I fucking mean it.” He brought the glass up to his lips, and he swallowed a sip.

I didn’t see him move, but suddenly, it felt like he was on top of me.

I held my breath as he stretched his arm over his head, the back of it now resting in the space between us. I felt the breeze it made; I smelled the spiciness of his cologne. He looked down at me where I stood several inches below. Then, he took his fingers out of his pocket and used them to pull a piece of hair off my cheek.

Goddamn it.

Just that little touch sent my body into turmoil, every nerve ending flaring like they were all on fire.

It was his hands.

I remembered how they’d waited for me on the comforter, how several flicks of his finger could almost make me come.

No other hands had made me feel that way since.

But I couldn’t let Jack touch me like that again.

I had to stay strong.

I didn’t trust myself around him—not my mouth, not my fingers, not my words.

Therefore, I had to get out of here.

“You got what you wanted, and now—”

His eyes turned feral. “I haven’t gotten what I wanted. Not even close.”

My chest was so tight, the pressure was starting to climb into my throat. “I have to go.”

When I tried to take a step away, his hand clasped my cheek, and he dived in closer, his mouth immediately pressing against mine. I took a breath, and I felt his tongue.

My second breath came out as a moan.

And, by the third breath, the memories that involved his lips all came slamming back to me.

He was holding me with so much force and passion that a dampness began to pool between my legs. My body was melting. My skin was begging for his fingers.

But my mind was fighting him.

I couldn’t do this.

I had to make him stop.

I pressed my hand to his chest and pushed until he freed me. “How dare you do this now.” I was surprised at how emotional I sounded. “You had your chance eight years ago; you’re not getting another.”

If I said any more, every thought would come pouring out, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I also couldn’t keep staring at him because the longer I did, the weaker I felt.

“Samantha—”

I put my hand in the air and said, “Jack, don’t.”

The door was only a few steps behind me, so I rushed toward it and went back inside the bar in search of my sisters to tell them I was going home. Once I did, I would get in the back seat of one of the SUVs my brother had rented for the night, and I would text my best friend, Anna, during the ride home.

Darting around all the groups of people, I found my sisters in the middle of the room, and I saw that they were standing with Shawn.

“There you are,” my brother said, resting his arm over my shoulders, dragging me closer to their small circle. “We’re doing shots.”

I shook my head. “I’m leaving.”

He laughed. “No, you’re not.” He stared at my face as though he were examining me. “You’re going to drink; you’re way too sober.”

“She’s waaay too sober,” my sister, Stacey, slurred. “Open up, little sis. You’re getting vodka. Or tequila.” She hiccuped. “Or maybe both.”

“I definitely don’t need both. Or either.”

“Shawn, she needs to loosen up,” Sara, one of my middle siblings, said.

“Are you guys insane?” I snapped. “I don’t need a shot.”

Suddenly, there was a bottle dangling over my face, and the metal spout was getting near my lips.

“Shawn, no, I—”

“Have to go?” he said, cutting me off. “You have nowhere to go. I won the fucking Super Bowl today, Sam. Our whole family is here, partying. So, you’re going to take a shot with us, and then we’re going to have some fun.”

I owed him so much for my absence. Taking a shot was the least I could do.

It would probably make me feel a little better and ease some of my anxiety even though I knew Jack was still somewhere inside this bar.

“Sam,” Shawn said, “stop thinking, and open your mouth.”

When my lips parted, my sisters shouted in celebration.

Shawn tilted the tip of the bottle, and the vodka burned all the way down my throat. But, after the third swallow from a continuous stream of booze that Shawn kept pouring onto my tongue, the knot in my chest began to loosen. Fog filled my head. My limbs turned numb.

But there was one thing I still felt.

One voice I still heard.

One face I still saw in my mind.

No amount of alcohol could ever take that away.