Muffled bass thumped through the glass of Finnigan’s pub as I approached. At the end of a long first day at work, I was excited to meet my adoptive sister Saanvi and toss back a few drinks.
I tugged open the door, and loud rap music hit me like a wall. Bodies shuffled around one another on their way to and from the bar.
There was a miniature floor in the middle that was cleared for dancing, though nobody was drunk enough for that yet. Pod lights cascaded blue hues from above, illuminating the cramped area.
I felt awful for Jarred, the barkeep. He looked overloaded; I couldn’t imagine it was easy trying to focus enough to keep everyone’s drink orders straight amid all this chaos. I could barely hear myself think.
Saanvi caught my eye, waving at me from a tall pub table. Even from across the room, she was eye-catching.
Saanvi’s golden-bronze complexion easily bested my dying summer tan, and her coal-dark eyes and mochaccino-brown hair made her smile appear whiter than the fresh snow outside.
It was so good to see her. She and her husband Tim had a ton of vacation time saved up, so they were staying in my parents’ guest room for basically the whole month of December before heading back to their home in Connecticut.
She couldn’t stand up without someone snatching the table, so I headed over. After bumping through the horde, I removed my dress jacket and sat across from her. “Where’s Tim?” I shouted. Normally, Saanvi didn’t go much of anywhere without him.
“He’s back at the house,” she yelled back. “I told him to come get us around midnight so we could both drink. You can just leave your car here and pick it up in the morning.”
“Well, who am I to turn down an offer like that?” I said with a grin.
A man suddenly barged into our conversation, leaning on the table and checking out Saanvi while slurring his speech and reeking of booze. “You, my dear, are a beautiful chocolate woman…”
“I’m married, you fuck,” Saanvi yelped.
“So…what does that mean?” the drunk asked.
“It means fuck off, dipshit!” she said.
The man furrowed his brows, stumbling away, holding onto whatever dignity he still owned.
Saanvi glanced at me with a shrug. “Deserved it.”
“Totally,” I said, smirking.
I loved listening to Saanvi go off on men who hit on her. She was a sassy woman; sometimes I wished I could be that assertive.
“If I stay and guard our table, can you go get the drinks?” Saanvi asked.
“Yeah,” I yelled. “You sure you’ll be okay here?”
She nodded. “Go. I’ll be fine. Wine, please.”
I shoved my way up to the bar, getting elbowed, bumped, and battered without mercy. Finally, I claimed an edge of the wooden bar top, holding on for dear life, fearing someone would bounce me away.
I’d just finally caught the bartender Jarred’s eye when I felt something pressing against my backside. Ugh, who was taking the excuse of a crowded space to grope my ass?
I glanced over my shoulder, ready to take a page out of Saanvi’s book and tell whoever it was to fuck off. But then I froze at the sight of a familiar, tan-skinned, short-haired, chiseled man.
He towered over me, grinning. “Hey, angel,” he said. “Do you come here often?”
But I could tell from the ease in his voice, his loose posture, that he’d been drinking. And, well, we were off the clock. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to flirt a little bit, as long as we both knew where the lines were drawn.
“As a matter of fact, I did last night,” I joked. “Twice, to be exact.”
He snickered. “What’re you doin’ here again so soon?”
“Out with my sister, Saanvi,” I said.
“If you see my secretary running around here somewhere, can you tell her I need her in tip-top condition for work tomorrow?” he asked with a grin.
“No, but you can find her yourself.” I smirked. “I hear she loves banging men in the ladies’ room.”
“Nice,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to pay her a visit.”
I smirked. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t business casual talk, Vázquez.”
“Hey, I haven’t busted out the cheesy pickup lines yet, so I think we’re safe.”
“So that means you have one?” I asked.
He furrowed his brows. “One what?”
“A pickup line.”
“Angel, I’ve always got a pickup line.” He grinned. “My ex, Carla, hated them.”
There was that “angel” nickname again…he was killing me.
“Well, can I tell you a secret?” I asked.
He leaned closer in invitation.
Rising to my toes, I pressed my chest against his and my lower lip against his ear. “I love them.”
I let out a laugh that contained a snort or two. Thankfully, the music was loud enough that I doubted anyone heard.
“What’re you and your sister drinking tonight? Two glasses of red?” he asked, letting the flirty vibe fade a little. “Whatever you guys want, it’s on me.”
“I don’t know,” I said, scrunching my nose. “The last time you bought me drinks, it didn’t end so well.”
“Okay, Vázquez. Forget the glass,” I said, eyeing him a little more than a secretary should. “We’ll take a bottle.”
He raised an eyebrow, but then he turned and bought a mid-priced bottle of Cabernet without protest. “Enjoy your night,” he said, handing it over with a quick squeeze of my shoulder.
With the wine bottle and two tall glasses in hand, I pushed my way back to Saanvi.
She smiled as I approached. “Wow, you really went all out!”
“Spared no expense for you, Saanvi,” I lied. Sliding the bottle forward, I granted her the honor of pouring for us.
“So, who was that hottie you were talking to?” she asked, handing me the first glass.
“I don’t know,” I lied. “Just some rando.”
“The ‘I wanna bang you until dawn, and then do it all over again’ look.”
Yeah, been there, done that. Too bad he was my boss and it could never happen again. If only Saanvi knew. She’d never let me live it down.
I took a sip of my wine while Saanvi poured a hefty helping of her own. “You’re reading into things too much,” I said.
“Really?” She cocked a brow. “Then why do you have that same look?”
“Bitch, just drink,” I snapped. Following my own advice, I downed half my glass in one go.
After about an hour and way too much wine, Saanvi and I abandoned our table and started wobbling and rocking on the dance floor with the rest of the drunks.
Saanvi faced me, shaking her ass and chanting along to Flo Rida’s “Right Round” as it blared over the loudspeakers.
She shooed away any and all male attention, but as a newly available woman, I didn’t feel the need to be so standoffish myself. When a lean, dark-eyed stranger approached with a raised eyebrow, I nodded and let him dance up on me.
He swayed behind me, clinging to my waist, my skirt brushing against his groin with every beat. Saanvi shot me a look, but she gave me some space to enjoy the music and the body heat.
We made it through a few songs like that, easy and without a care in the world. Eventually, though, all the wine hit my bladder, and I needed a break.
I twisted toward my partner, letting him know I was running to the ladies’ room. He nodded. “I’m gonna hit the men’s!” he shouted back, heading in that direction.
I revolved toward Saanvi, who was still spinning in circles alone, looking like she was having the time of her life. I hollered over the beat, “Are you okay for a second?”
“Yeah, go,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m good.”
I followed a few steps behind my dance partner toward the hallway with the bathrooms, moving fast as I really needed to pee now. The guy peeled off into the men’s as I skidded into a powder room I recalled a little too well.
The walls muffled the music, but not by much. My ears rang, grateful for even a slight reprieve as I sat and did my business.
I tried hard not to be turned on by returning to the “scene of the crime,” as it were. But the wine was buzzing through my head.
Thoughts of the dance partner whose name I didn’t even know kept turning into thoughts of Sam—his goofy flirting earlier, the weight of his hand on my shoulder, the fact that I knew exactly what his cock looked like.
I started washing my hands, trying my best to shake off the memories of what happened on this very sink just twenty-four hours ago. Then a knock sounded.
“I’ll be out in a sec!” I said.
It boomed again.
“I said, give me a minute!” Geez, this person was seriously impatient. Did they really need the bathroom so badly that they couldn’t wait three seconds?
More hammering, more insistent this time.
I rolled my eyes, poorly dried my hands, and darted for the door, whirling it open. “Goddammit, I said—”
My eyes grew wide as I took in the broad, sexy shoulders pushing past me into the bathroom. “Sam. What are you—?”
He let out a low growl and turned to face me. Jesus, fuck. Déjà vu…
