Chapter 1: The Night It All Began

Chapter 1:  

My name is Ciara Baxter, and this is the story of how I met my biggest distraction. It all began on the night my best friend, Julia, forced me to follow her to the club.

She had just caught her boyfriend of four years cheating on her, and all she wanted was to drown herself in alcohol.  

Yeah, I was the perfect person to be with her at the club. Now, we were seated at the bar in one of the wildest nightclubs in the city of California and all I could think of was how loud the bass from the speakers was. It felt like it was trying to shake the air from my lungs.

The bright lights were like fireworks in wild patterns as Julia raised her glass to her lips.  

"Ryan is such an idiot for cheating on me!" She yelled, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. Her voice cracked, but she covered it with a wild grin.  

“Totally!” I yelled back, though my heart ached for her. Her eyes were red, her makeup smudged. She looked like she was trying too hard to convince herself she was fine.  

She emptied the drink in her glass and grinned at me again. “More shots!”  

I blinked at her. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? You're getting drunk, Julia!"  

She rolled her eyes. “Enough? No such thing tonight!” Then, she slammed her empty glass on the bar, already flagging the bartender down. I sighed, finishing my own drink.  

The burn of the alcohol dulled the edges of my nerves, and the heavy bass of the music in the room felt like it was carrying me now. If this was what Julia needed to feel better, I’d stay right by her side.  

Soon, she grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the dance floor before I could protest. “Come on, Ciara! Let’s forget everything!”  

The crowd swallowed us whole as we joined in to dance. Julia moved like she was trying to escape herself. Her arms flailed and her hips swayed. Within minutes. I began to shake my body hysterically, letting the music take over.  

But then, I felt it.  

A strange prickling sensation at the back of my neck. Like someone was watching me.  

I froze for a moment, my body stilling as I scanned the room. Something felt wrong. At first, I didn’t see anything unusual. Just groups of people dancing, laughing and drinking. But then, my gaze landed on him.  

He was in the corner, leaning against the wall like he didn’t belong here. A dark suit hugged his tall, lean frame, the crispness of it out of place in the chaos of the club. His hair was jet black, slicked back neatly. But it was his eyes that made me stop—pale, icy blue, fixed on me like I was the only thing in the room.  

My breath caught. He didn’t look away.  

“Ciara!” Julia yelled, spinning me around. “You’re zoning out! Come on, have fun!”  

“Sorry,” I mumbled, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. My eyes drifted back to the corner again, and he was still there.  

Still staring at me.  

A small knot formed in my stomach and my pulse quickened.  

Who the hell was that? Was he just some creep? Or was there something else about him—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on?  

I tried to ignore him, focusing instead on Julia, who was now dancing with a guy who’d materialized out of nowhere. Minutes later, my eyes flickered to the corner again.  

Shit!  

He was still there, watching me without blinking.  

I turned to face Julia again—to tell her what was going on, but she was rocking her butt against the crotch of the man behind her, screaming the lyrics of the song in the background at the top of her voice.  

She seemed happy, or at least distracted, and that gave me an excuse to slip away. Before I could stop myself back, I left Julia and began to weave through the crowd as my attention remained pinned on the man who was still at the corner, staring at me with narrowed eyes.  

Something inside me sparked. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, like he already knew me. Either way, I felt bold.  

I made my way across the room, weaving through the crowd until I was standing a few feet away from him.  

“Hey! Do you always stare at people like that?” I asked him, crossing my arms.  

Up close, he was even more intimidating.  

He was tall and his broad shoulders filled out his suit perfectly. I noticed how slicked back his dark hair was, not a strand out of place.  

And those eyes.  

Damn it!  

Those eyes were even more piercing than I’d realized.  

"Hello?" I called out to him again with a raised voice.  

His lips twitched but he didn't say a word.  

“Not a talker, huh? That's cool,” I said, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped under his gaze. “Look, if you’re going to stare, at least tell me your name.”  

Still nothing. His gaze dipped briefly to my lips, then back to my eyes.  

A chill ran through me. I know, I should’ve walked away. But there was something about him—something magnetic.  

The heat between us felt electric, and I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or him making my head spin.  

“Okay,” I said, taking a step closer. “How about a dance? Or is that beneath you, Mr. Mysterious?”  

To my surprise, he extended a hand.  

I hesitated for half a second before placing my hand in his. His grip was firm, and his palm was cool against mine as he led me to the edge of the dance floor.  

The music slowed, and so did we. I swayed to the beat, acutely aware of how close we were. He didn’t dance like the other guys in the club—no awkward shuffling or overconfident moves. He was smooth, controlled, and before I knew what was happening, his hands settled lightly on my waist as we swayed.  

I looked up at him as my heart pounded. “Still not going to tell me your name?”  

His lips curved into a faint smile. Yet, he remained silent.  

I tilted my head as I studied him. He had a tattoo which ran from the left side of his neck and disappeared into his shirt. He also had a small, diamond nose ring that shone under the club lights.  

I frowned at him, “You know, it’s kind of rude to ignore someone when they’re trying to make conversation.  

He didn't say a word. Rather, he spun me around before wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. My mouth turned dry as I felt the heat of his warm breath on my face.  

"You're mysterious. I like that." I muttered.  

He leaned in slightly, next to my ear. “And you’re persistent. I like that,” he said with a voice that was so low and smooth, with just the faintest trace of an accent I couldn’t place.  

I blinked at him, caught off guard by the sound of his voice.  

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” I said, forcing myself to sound braver than I felt. “What’s your name?”  

He didn’t answer, his eyes dropped to my lips instead. Before I could press him further, he kissed me. I stopped breathing as I felt his lips crash against mine.  

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was deep, consuming, and it stole the breath right out of my lungs. My hands moved instinctively to his chest and I gripped the fabric of his suit.  

I didn’t care that I didn’t know his name. I didn’t care about anything but the way his lips felt on mine, the way his hands pressed me closer.  

When we finally broke apart, I was breathless.  

“Who are you?” I whispered.  

“Let’s go,” he murmured with a voice that was low and rough, barely audible over the music.  

"Go? To where?" I asked, confused. He didn't say anything in response. Instead, he took my hand again, leading me toward a set of stairs at the back of the club.  

And like an idiot, I followed him.