5

Selena

The sting of betrayal was sharper than I expected.

It was hard to admit, but there it was. I never considered Matt to be “the one,” yet I had enjoyed our time together. With my busy life, it had been nice knowing that on a Friday night, I could spend a few precious hours exploring the countryside, savoring a nice dinner, planning a weekend getaway, or just staying in to binge-watch old movies.

And now I’d caught the bouquet of all things. Talk about bad karma.

“You’re going to spill all the juicy details, right?” Jenny teased on the other end of the phone.

Juicy details? She had everything lined up for me, but I seriously doubted I’d find a rugged hunk in a fancy hotel bar.

“Go have a wild night with Brad. I’m perfectly fine on my own, thanks.” I raked my fingers through my hair, biting my lip—a clear sign of my frustration. Ever since she dropped that idea into my head, I couldn’t shake off the enticing images.

“Hot man. Sizzling sex. It’s good for the mind and body. Trust me, it works wonders for me.”

“Ugh. A little TMI. Good night,” I sang back before hanging up. I knew she wouldn’t let up until I gave in to her whims.

As I walked into the hotel bar, it hit me that Matt had never once curled up with me under a cozy blanket to watch a movie. Not only did he hate what he called “chick flicks”—which I considered action and adventure films—but he also couldn’t sit still. The one time I suggested something a bit more feminine, he made six phone calls during the movie. I had counted every single one.

Then he stormed out when I confronted him.

Okay, so it was clear we weren’t a match made in heaven, but we had shared some good moments, right? Or was I just overlooking the obvious?

I settled at the bar, trying to shake off the negativity in my head. At least the place wasn’t packed, which didn’t surprise me. I’d picked this hotel intentionally, off the beaten path but close to the wedding venue. It put me near my favorite part of the city—the waterfront. I loved everything about rivers and lakes, especially the ocean. I still couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t moved to a beach town, other than my affection for Louisville and its people.

And the food.

Even though I lived just outside the city, treating myself to a weekend in a luxurious hotel felt like a real treat. A few drinks. A massage. A bubble bath. Plus, I didn’t have to worry about driving after the reception.

Now, I regretted not being able to crawl under my own covers and shut the world out for a whole day before slipping back into my practiced smile.

I took a seat on a barstool and scanned the dimly lit room. The few patrons were clearly business types, stopping for a quick nightcap before heading to their swanky suites. I was surprised to see that nearly every man looked like he had just stepped out of a GQ magazine. It was Saturday night, for heaven’s sake. Then again, maybe they had all been forced to dress up for weddings, longing to lounge in front of a TV instead.

I couldn’t help but hope that a dashing stranger would step out from the shadows and sweep me off my feet, just as Jenny had suggested. He’d be dressed in all black, maybe in tight jeans and a fitted tee that highlighted his toned physique. I imagined tattoos adorning his muscular arms, with only a watch hinting at his wealth and power. Sadly, it looked like I wouldn’t be fulfilling my best friend’s wish on this starry night. The suits were tailored, but the few watches I could see were cheap.

So much for finding the perfect alpha male.

Selena

The bartender was definitely eye candy.

“What can I get you?” he asked, his presence making the evening a bit brighter.

“A very dry Stoli martini,” I replied.

“Good choice. I’ll be right back.” He placed a cocktail napkin in front of me before turning his attention to another customer. As I tried to push aside my feelings for Matt, a sudden wave of despair washed over me, dragging me into an unexpected moment of sadness.

That wasn’t like me at all.

Maybe I had just relished the idea of caring for someone or the thought of not being alone. Yes, I remembered calling him once during a storm when I got a flat tire. Matt had come to help—well, sort of. I had to admit he called Triple A to assist me instead of braving the dark, lonely road himself.

Okay, he did stop by my condo later to fix a broken toilet. Really? Matt, the guy who looked like he belonged in a suit, repairing a toilet?

Great, now that ugly voice inside my head was back at it. Even worse, she was right. Matt had called an emergency plumber and later scolded me for interrupting an important meeting when I could’ve figured it out myself. To top it off, I had to pay a ridiculous weekend f*e.

A meeting, my ass. He was probably with another woman then.

And let’s not forget the cherry on top of this crumbling whipped cream: he refused to attend the wedding or the rehearsal dinner with me, claiming he had an important client in town. If I had to guess, he was likely wining and dining some mistress in his fancy high-rise condo.

Oh, I felt like such a fool.

Maybe casual dating had been fine, but not anymore. I craved passion—the heated moments, the sweat, and the aftermath that lingered on my skin. I wanted to walk away from it all, reeking of desire and sin, refusing to shower for an entire day. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted.

No, it was what I deserved.

Screw Matt. I swore I’d never date anyone named Matt, Matthew, Matteus, or anything close.

“Here you go. My name is Matt, so if you need anything, just let me know.”

I jerked my head up so fast, I thought I might topple over and embarrass myself. Of all the bars in the world, I had to choose one with a bartender sharing the same name as my cheating ex.

“Thanks, Matt.”

Another wave of despair washed over me, almost suffocating me. I felt clammy and lightheaded, enough to need cold water on my face. The last thing I wanted was to pass out.

I slowly got off the barstool but ended up racing to the bathroom, the neon sign overhead guiding my way. I burst into the restroom, gasping for air by the time I reached the granite sink. I fumbled to turn on the water, finally finding relief in splashing it across my overheated skin. I wished I could blame my condition on too much champagne, but I had only had three drinks all night.

I was mourning something that had never truly existed.

God, I was such a fool.

After taking a few deep breaths, I grabbed some paper towels and blotted my face dry. Then I laughed at myself. I was seriously grieving over that man? No longer. I was stronger than that. I touched up my lipstick, happy I’d chosen a bold red for the ceremony. While I might not find a hot guy sitting at the bar, I could at least be someone’s fantasy.

After fluffing my hair, I swung the door open, holding my head high. I felt a little more like the fierce woman I was known to be in the courtroom.

As soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, I collided with a solid wall of muscle, stumbling back. Just before the door hit me, a strong hand grasped my arm, pulling me forward into the warmth of his body.

No doubt about it, the fingers gripping my arm were male, as was the broad chest I pressed against. The moment my palm connected with him, it was like electricity coursed through me, leaving me dizzy and breathless. I wanted to speak, to say anything, but I was too busy inhaling the intoxicating scent of his aftershave—citrus, sandalwood, a hint of forest after rain, and exotic spices that made my tongue tingle. I even caught a whiff of cigar smoke, something that had always stirred desire in me, along with a touch of leather that added to his dark and dangerous allure.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though it felt more like a rhetorical question. How could I not be okay after being swept off my feet by a man with a voice as soft as velvet yet rough around the edges, sending a delightful shiver through me?

Goodness. Jenny’s ridiculous, romantic notions had clearly gotten to my head. Technically, he had bumped into me.

“I’m fine.” It was unlike me to feel so shaken I could barely speak. I made my living with my voice, after all.

Had I really spoken? I wasn’t sure, too busy trying to clear my mind and my foggy vision to take in his godlike physique. Unfortunately, the shadows were thick enough that I could only make out his broad shoulders and towEricag frame. He must have been at least six foot four, far taller than my five foot seven, even in heels. I couldn’t help but notice my heart was racing, only to realize I was gripping his shirt in my fingers.

“Be careful, my love. There are dangers lurking in the shadows. They can bite.”

He called me “my love.” Normally, I’d have scolded him for being so familiar, but instead, I was captivated by the strange connection we seemed to share.

The only real danger in the bar was him, this big, brooding guy. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d mind if he bit me. Girl, maybe you do need some hot, sweaty sex. No way! Who knew what kind of trouble I could get into nowadays?

When I finally took a step back, I noticed he was wearing dark jeans and a T-shirt. I was too scared to look down, afraid he might be wearing cowboy boots. That would send me over the edge.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I said, relieved that my voice sounded stronger than before. I didn’t want to embarrass myself again tonight.

He nodded as if that was enough. He stared at me in the dim light for what felt like twenty seconds before finally letting go of my arm.

I could swear his grip would leave marks on my skin.

There was something serious about him that intrigued me as if he was hiding something behind those dark, intense eyes that seemed to see right through me. It was silly really; bumping into a stranger in a bathroom hallway wasn’t exactly the stuff of fantasies. I searched for something else to say, hoping to hear his voice again.

But without warning, he walked past me into the men’s room.

I let out a deep breath.

As I exhaled, I heard a faint whistle. I steadied myself against the wall before heading back into the bar. The dim lighting felt harsh compared to the soft glow of the hallway. I sat back down, trying to calm my racing heart. Weddings often stirred up unwanted feelings, but I was pulled in every direction, still reeling from the encounter.

I felt hot and damp, a bead of sweat trickling down my face. Holy hell, I was more turned on than I realized.

And the jerk thought I was some ice queen. Ha!

I chuckled softly to myself, trying to keep my hands steady. Once I managed, I brought the glass to my lips, inhaling the vodka’s scent before taking a sip. Nothing beats the taste of a perfect martini. I swirled the three olives on the little plastic stick, finally biting into one. As soon as I did, Jenny’s voice popped into my head, suggesting I should be doing something much raunchier.

I nearly spat out the olive, laughing at myself, the sound echoing around me. I bit it back and immediately felt the heat of being watched. I knew that feeling all too well; I was skilled at sensing it in a courtroom where criminals often tried to intimidate me with their glares.

Then there were those who truly terrified me, their eyes revealing a complete lack of soul. When I looked up, I found myself locked in a moment with the man at the other end of the bar. I didn’t need a second glance to know he was studying me just as intently as I’d studied criminals throughout my career.

I couldn’t help but analyze him in return, taking in his features. There wasn’t much light on him, but I could see that his face was as handsome as I’d thought, his jaw strong and shadowed by a three-day stubble. Maybe I was just trying to find the perfect alpha male, as Jenny suggested.

One thing was clear: he was a predator, like a lion on the hunt. For some reason, he had my scent and wasn’t ready to let it go. My mouth felt dry, my mind racing with wild possibilities. I noticed his arms were covered in tattoos—one vibrant, the other dark. With his dark clothes, he looked like an assassin on a mission.

When he raised a shot glass filled with amber liquid, I wondered if it was bourbon or scotch. I forced myself to look away, battling the heat rising between my legs. I reminded myself I couldn’t just have a fling with anyone. I had morals and values. I worked hard to keep a low profile because my profession had a way of exposing weaknesses that could ruin my reputation.

I’d clung to that excuse for so long I wasn’t sure who I was beneath the conservative suits and boring heels that had become my uniform. They were safe and easy, but they didn’t represent me at all. I continued to feel that heat and looked up again.

His gaze was still on me, his eyes unblinking. They burned with such intensity that I felt like I was falling into an abyss, the desire to let go pulsing through me like wildfire. I had dozens of reasons to avoid acting on my feelings, including everything I’d already thought about.

But I could feel cracks inside me, a need to rediscover the person I used to be rising to the surface.

He was stunning, a real hunk, and from what I could tell, a total alpha male. If he wasn’t an assassin, he had to be someone famous hiding out in the shadows. Maybe a rock star or an actor. No, if that were the case, he wouldn’t be here. Not that Louisville lacked glamor, but that was usually reserved for the Kentucky Derby. And somehow, I doubted he was a cowboy. But then again, maybe I needed another look at those jeans.

If I tried to imagine a more perfect fantasy man, I couldn’t have done better. Maybe inviting him for a drink would be a good idea. Once the bubble was burst, I could breathe easy and let the fantasy go.

Taking a deep breath, I held it until I found my courage. Then I lifted my head and turned my barstool slightly.

Another laugh bubbled up.

But my fantasy man had vanished.