But just as I start to settle into the numbness, I feel it. A shift. Someone’s watching me. Not in a threatening way, not yet anyway. But with the kind of attention that makes your skin prickle and your instincts sit up straight.
I glance sideways.
A man at the other end of the bar. Not familiar in the slightest, but not entirely a stranger either. There’s something in the way he looks at me—like he knows something I don’t.
Or maybe I’m just drunk enough to imagine ghosts in every face.
Either way, I don’t look away.
Not yet.
Thank God I have my rolling pin handy in my bag.
Not that he approaches like someone about to kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder. No, when he stands from his chair and leans casually against the bar beside me, he’s wearing a smile—charming, easy and practiced.
“Here on your own?”
He’s not Cameron.
No one will ever be Cameron.
But maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s time I finally take Darcy’s advice. Maybe a rebound isn’t the worst idea in the world. I’ve already lost so much—what’s one more bad decision?
“Yep,” I say, sipping my drink like it’s lemonade, even though it burns all the way down.
He nods, eyes flicking over me with interest. “Can I buy you another? Feels like the least I can do. It’s practically a crime—someone like you, sitting here alone.”
Is he flirting? Probably. Or maybe he just pities me. Maybe this is what happens when Darcy’s not around to steal the spotlight.
But pity or not, flirtation or not—I’ve got one goal tonight.
Forget Cameron.
Even if it’s just for a few hours.
He actually makes me genuinely smile which is completely unexpected. He’s got a joke for everything, like he’s memorised a whole damn book of them just for nights like this. He’s not boyfriend material, not even close. But I’m not looking for that.
I’m looking for a quick win—a distraction—something to dull the ache in my chest.
“So, tell me, pretty girl,” he says, flagging down the waiter for another round. “How’d you end up in a place like this, all on your own?”
The bar’s packed now—shoulder to shoulder, music pulsing louder, laughter spilling over itself—but I’m content in my little corner. With this man whose name I still don’t know.
“Trust me,” I say, swirling the last of my drink, “you don’t want to know.” I glance up at him. “But I could ask you the same thing.”
He smirks, brushing a few stray hairs from his face, and for a second, it’s easy to pretend.
But then I blink, and all I see is Cameron.
Last night. The way he touched me like he knew every inch of my body before I did. The way he broke me open and made it feel like salvation. And I know, deep down, I’ll never feel that again. Not like that. Not with anyone else.
Damn him.
He gave me something he had no intention of offering twice. And now I’m left chasing shadows.
Selfish, beautiful bastard.
I don’t know how long we sit here, but I ignore the constant buzz of my phone. Cameron might not remember, but he’s the one who turned off my location services. Which means he has no way of finding me now.
