By the time I pull up to the apartment three hours later, I’m done. Done with this day. Done with hemorrhaging money I don’t have. Done with everything. I don’t want to do anything other than shower, put on my comfiest pajamas, and eat an entire bowl of butter noodles. Okay, I’d like to scarf down an entire pepperoni pizza—with extra cheese—but a box of noodles is what I have in the pantry.
My feet drag as I head up the walkway, praying the rest of my roommates are out for the evening. I don’t think I can handle any drama or niceties.
“Rae! Hey! You ready to party?” Jenni pops off the couch, her hair wrapped in a towel atop her head. “I was worried you weren’t gonna get back in time. If we leave in thirty does that give you enough time to get ready?”
Oh, shit. My stomach drops at the thought of going out, being social, or forcing a fake smile, but . . . I promised. I don’t go back on my word. Besides, Jenni is the only ally I have in this house, and I could use a friend. “Sure.” I force myself to brighten. “I need a shower, but I’ll hurry.”
“Yay!” Jenni claps and skips back to her room. “This is going to be awesome!”
“God, I hope so,” I mutter under my breath. After the day I’ve had, it’s almost too much to hope for.
16
Jude
“Smile, Jude! You promised me a good time!” Jenese shouts above the music. A blaring bass beat pulses in my chest.
I hate to admit it, but I might be over the club scene. Everyone in this place is dressed to impress. All the beautiful people and a ton of entitled assholes gather to be seen and partake in the simple pleasures of life. Drinks flow plentiful, along with inhibitions. Bodies press together, dancing and grinding, the perfect foreplay for a one-night stand. Only, all of it is meaningless. The idol chit-chat and banter with a sexy stranger holds no challenge. Even Jenese, who is a sure thing, doesn’t excite me. A crying shame, because she’s gorgeous as ever, charming, and adventurous as hell in the bedroom.
But when I look at her my cock doesn’t stir. Fuck. My dick might actually be broken. “I’m getting another drink!” I shout back.
She smiles and spins back to her friends, shimmying her hips to the music.
I weave my way through the thick crowd, wondering when it got so crowded in here and when I can get away with leaving and not hurt Jenese’s feelings. My gaze darts between the door and the bar. I could leave now. Bail and apologize with a text message. She’d probably stop calling, but that wouldn’t be a bad thing considering whatever we had is played out anyway. I take a step toward the exit, but stop in my tracks when I catch sight of a familiar profile.
Rachel.
No fucking way. My libido springs to life at the sight of her in an ungodly short black dress. The design is simple, but it hugs her body in the best possible way. My fingers ache to take it off.
She tips her head back, her lips spreading with unbridled laughter, and she rests her hand on one of the guys’ forearms. She’s with a group, but I immediately want to rip the dude’s balls off. I hate that he’s earned her amusement. Her attention. More so, I hate that I haven’t.
A moment later she leaves the circle of friends to head to the bar, and my own feet don’t miss a beat. She slides into a small opening at the bar, and I tap the guy next to her on the shoulder before shooting him a glare that has him moving over.
I lift my hand to signal the bartender’s attention, and Rachel’s gaze lifts. Her eyes widen and lips part with recognition. God, her mouth is absolutely kissable. Dark red, more dramatic than the shade she’s been wearing all week, steals my total focus.
Rachel straightens her spine. “Are you following me?”
I think she’s joking, but when she doesn’t smile, I decide to mess with her. I lift my brow with a smirk. “Would it be so bad if I were?”
“Seriously?” She laughs, but it’s not that joyful uninhibited one she gave that other guy minutes ago.
Fuck if that doesn’t strike a wave of jealousy. That and a new challenge.
“I’m here with friends.” I don’t say date, because I don’t want Rachel to know I’m with Jenese. I tip my chin to the group of people she was with moments ago. “Just like you.”
“Right. Sorry.” She flashes me a smile, but it’s forced, then rubs her temple. “I’ve had a bad day.” She sighs and crinkles her nose. Wrinkles form between her eyebrows and she looks so damn sad.
Immediately, I want to erase whatever stress has ruined her day. “But it’s better now?” I nod at the bartender heading our way.
“Getting there.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
She shakes her head and places her hand on my shoulder, leaning closer to be heard above the music. “You’ve done too much already.”
“Rachel.” Now it’s my turn to scowl. Does she really have to fight me on everything? And why does her resistance make me want my way? I glance to the bartender, then back to her. “Order a drink.”
Her eyes widen the slightest at my command. “Gin and tonic, please.”
Good girl. “Another whiskey for me,” I say to the bartender, then turn my attention to her. “There. Was that so hard?”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you always so bossy?”
“I like to get my way.”
“I’m sure you do.” She sighs, and I hate that she’s not impressed.
Most women find my tenacity and business savvy a turn-on, but Rachel isn’t like most women. It’s probably why I find her alluring. It’s been so long since I’ve had a good chase—I forgot how much fun a challenge can be.
“So, tell me about this bad day?”
“I’d rather not.
