Rolling out of bed, my head hurts almost as much as my heart. After Layla dropped me off last night, I cried into my pillow until I passed out. Now my eyes are swollen and my body aches from my head all the way to my toes.

When I glance in the mirror, my reflection does nothing to soothe my wounded heart.

I joined the military to see the world—little did I know I’d be meeting the world’s biggest assholes along the way. Now I’m twenty-eight years old and the only one out of my high school friends who isn’t married and having kids.

I’ve had a few serious relationships, all ending horribly, and one actually stealing money from me. It’s like I have “walk all over me” tattooed across my forehead that only the real douchebags can see.

Travis just left on deployment, and even though I could call him to get his side of the story, I know I don’t need to. I’ve had multiple people tell me they thought he was cheating on me, but I didn’t want to believe them. I liked living with blinders on; as long as he gave me the illusion our relationship was a good one. That was all I needed to keep my dream alive that he was the one.

The one. Ha! What does that even mean?

In my life, it correlates to the one who cheated, the one who drank too much, the one who was a slob, the one who had terrible breath, and now, the one who got the other girl pregnant when he told me over and over again he never wanted kids.

I want kids, and I was willing to give up my dream for that piece of shit.

No more.

I’m done being a doormat to any guy who pays me attention.

Frustration rises to the top with a new Jenelle peeking her head through, ready to be a new person.

Laced with my new fuck-it attitude, I pick up my phone to call Layla, determined to change my life and for once, live for me, not the person I think everyone wants me to be.

Layla’s been my friend since I transferred to Travis Air Force Base four years ago. Yes, I dated Travis who is stationed at Travis Air Force Base. He thought that was pretty cool. I should have known he’d be a total douche then.

She’s not in the military but was born and raised in the area so I need her to take me somewhere different, somewhere away from this military town. I’m done dating anyone in the military and just want to have fun in the civilian world for once.

After making plans for later tonight, I rid my apartment of anything Travis related, throwing it in the trash before heading to work, ready for a new day and a new me, without men.

* * *

“Damn girl, look at that hair,” Layla says after I open the door to my apartment.

At work, dress code says my hair must be tucked back in a low, tight bun and more often than not I leave it that way. Not tonight though.

When I got home, I pulled it loose and could style it since it was still wet from my morning shower. Now my long, light-brown hair is flowing down my back in soft curls.

“Thank you, it still feels weird having it down like this,” I state, running it through my fingers.

In an atmosphere full of men at work, it feels good to get away and be who I want to be, not who I’m supposed to be.

Layla and I head to Sacramento to a downtown dance club. All I want is to let loose tonight and dance with my girl.

Music bounces through my chest as we walk into the club, filling my veins with sounds of freedom. We came to Sacramento so I wouldn’t know anyone, and I could have a good time without a care in the world.

As an Officer, I have to hold a certain level of professionalism, and sometimes, it’s all too much. I just want to be a normal female, and my getaway is dancing.

There’s nothing better than being on that dance floor, letting the music guide me. That’s where I’m the woman I want to be. I can close my eyes, letting the rhythm dictate how I move, how I feel, even how I breathe. It’s a freedom I only feel here and crave more than men, coffee, or even chocolate.

After a few songs, we head to the bar to gather our drinks and catch our breath.

A guy from the corner of the room catches my eye, but I quickly look away, reiterating in my head I’m not here to meet anyone. Unfortunately, I didn’t look away fast enough, and he’s heading this way.

Ugh! Why can’t a girl just hang out without feeling like she’s being hunted all the time?

“Hey there,” I hear over my shoulder.

I don’t look his way; instead, I throw my hand over my shoulder in response telling him to go away. “Not interested. Keep moving along.”

“I’m sorry, who are you talking to?” he says in response.

I turn to him, and I’ll admit, he’s a good-looking guy, but I’m not interested. “You. I’m here with my girl, not looking to hook up with anyone tonight.”

“Well, good to know, but I was talking to the bartender standing behind you who’s a good friend of mine.”

Embarrassment spreads throughout my entire body. I know my face is flushed so I turn back around, only to see a female bartender waiting to talk to her friend behind me.

Well, shit.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I tell Layla before I make even more of an ass out of myself.

After checking my hair and washing my hands, I head back to the bar only to notice Layla talking with the guy I tried to get away from. I question even going over there but when he looks my direction, we catch eyes and a slight smirk crosses his face.

Great, my night of embarrassing moments continues.

I take a deep breath, trying to pretend nothing happened, and walk up to Layla, hoping the guy leaves upon my arrival.

No such luck.

“Jenelle, meet Alex,” Layla says, handing me my drink from the bar.

“Hi, Alex,” I say with my signature fake smile.

He backs up, holding his hands up like he’s waving surrender. “I know, I know, I won’t try to hit on you.”

I drop my head in embarrassment, not sure how to respond.

“Hey—” he puts his hand on my arm, making me look up at him “—I’m just kidding. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I get it. A pretty girl like you must get hit on left and right.”

Ugh, now I’m blushing. This guy is batting a thousand with me. I smile, a more genuine smile, in response.

“Now that’s a beautiful smile. Your other one seemed forced. I’m glad I got to see the real one. I’ll leave you two alone now.”

Before I can say anything, he turns and walks away, leaving me to look at Layla with confusion.

“Hey, you’re the one who said you didn’t want him around,” she teases, bringing her straw up to her mouth.

I turn to see him again; he’s talking to a group of guys but I have a perfect line of sight to him.

He’s definitely different than the guys I’m around all day. No Officer in the Air Force would be caught dead in a surfer-like tank top, yet it totally works on him the way his broad shoulders stick out from underneath.

His dark hair is short on the sides and unruly on the top in a sexy, spiky way, which is a stark contrast to the normal military buzz cut that isn’t required in the military yet most men keep it that way from their boot camp days.

My eyes take in his shoulders and arms that are lined with tattoos but not like a biker would have them. These look like intricate designs of art that wrap around his arms and tell a story.

Suddenly, I’m dying to know what his stories are.

He turns and catches me staring his way, winking at me before returning his attention to his friends.

Jeez! Now I’m totally making a fool of myself with this guy.

I down the rest of my drink, set the glass on the bar, and head back out to the dance floor—back to the real reason why I’m here. And it’s not to meet a man.

While dancing, I try to forget about the way his blue eyes seemed almost clear with dark circles lining them, or the way his jeans hugged him in just the right places as he walked away.

I find myself glancing his direction more times than I want to admit so I purposely turn my body away from him to rid the temptation.

Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around my myself, hugging tightly as the music slows down, flowing like angels through my soul.

Surprise takes me out of my high when warm hands hold onto mine that are wrapped around me and hugging my hips. I know I should push whoever’s touching me away, but there’s something so comforting about it. When combined with the music reverberating in my ears a level of happiness overcomes me.

A warm breath tickles my neck when I hear the words, “I’m sorry, but the music looked like it was putting you in a trance, and I wanted to be where you were.”

I turn to see Alex watching me with a sexy smirk on his face. His arms stay secured on my waist, and I do nothing to move them, which he doesn’t miss, and he pulls me closer.

“Could I get you to change your mind? At least hang out with me tonight? I’m not looking for a hook-up, either. Just let me be where you are in that beautiful head of yours.”

I smile, not responding, and turn back around, staying wrapped in his arms and moving to the music in connection with him.

His hands stray from my hips, traveling up and down my thighs, to my stomach, my arms and back around my waist. He’s careful not to put them on me inappropriately, but makes a point to place them everywhere else.

And I let him.

Feeling his strong body against mine makes me feel like I’m wrapped in the warmest blanket on a stormy night.

There’s something about his touch that brings me to places I’ve never felt. All of my anxiety and fears wash away, giving me security in his comforting embrace. The way his fingers trace the curve of my back. His strong hands caress my sides with a meaningful touch.

It’s soft yet manly.

It’s caring yet demanding.

Most of all, it’s lifting me to a high I don’t want to come out of.

Music is the only thing that could make me feel this way. When you combine the vibrations with the way his hands feel on my skin, I’m brought to a heaven I didn’t even know existed.

The rest of the night is spent in his arms, not having a clue how much time has gone by.

The bar announces last call, and the time warp I’m in disappears. I quickly realize I’ve only had one drink the entire night. I’m not a lush or an alcoholic, but for me to only have one is a little surprising.

Normally, I have a glass in my hand pretty much the entire time, but more as a defense mechanism than anything else. It gives me something to hold onto, or something to do when my insecurities get the best of me.

My head clouds when thoughts of Alex and not needing that defense mechanism once sets in. But fear takes its place. I wasn’t here to meet a guy.

Instinctively, I retreat from his embrace but he holds me closer, whispering in my ear, “You can’t leave until I at least get your number.”

“Sorry, I told you. I don’t want to hook up with anyone.”

“Well, good, me neither. I’m actually going through a divorce, so believe me, the last thing I want is a relationship. I’ve just had a fun night and want to hang out again.”

“You’re what? How old are you? How long were you married?” I’m surprised to hear he’s going through a divorce; he doesn’t look that old.

“That’s not important. We're not going to date, remember? Just hang out sometime.”

I smile, thinking it wouldn’t be too bad to hang out with him again.

Before I change my mind, he hands me his phone. I enter my number then he kisses my forehead, saying, “Thanks, Jenelle. I’ll see you around.”