Hazel ground her teeth, the strobe lights from the dancefloor illuminating the contours of her face. Her soft green eyes glittered, her button nose was practically kissable, and her lips… fuck. Her lips.
“Come on,” I said, gesturing toward the table I’d been at before she’d walked in and distorted reality with that ass. “Let’s have a drink.”
“I’m not going home with you.”
“No shit,” I said. “I don’t want you to.”
She stiffened.
I laughed. “You’ve got to decide what you want, gorgeous. Do you want me to want you or not?”
She chose not to answer and pushed past me instead. She sat at the table, and I took a place next to her, gesturing to the bartender at the VIP bar. Moments later, we were supplied with two beers.
“You didn’t ask what I wanted,” Hazel said, eying the lager.
“You used to like this.” I turned the bottle—it was a craft beer made locally. “Back in the day.”
Hazel didn’t say anything but did pick up the beer. She took a sip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, but only for a second. Her worried gaze kept traveling to Kara and her tonsil-hockey buddy.
A responsible woman who loved her family. See, that was why we were such a fucking mismatch. And why this was going to work. The business agreement.
Now wasn’t the time to spring it on her, though.
“How are you?” I asked.
She glared at me.
“It’s a genuine question, Hazel. You can hate me all you want, but it won’t change shit. I fucked you, and I left.”
“I’m aware,” she replied. “But I don’t give a shit about that. I just don’t trust you, Woods.” She flicked her fingers like she’d just flicked off a bit of lint. “I don’t trust your motives or your stares or anything at all. You just happen to be at the club where I’m meeting my sister? And she’s up here with you? It’s like you organized it.”
“Paranoid,” I said. “Do you really think I’d go to such an effort to see you again? After all these years. I’ve been in Chicago plenty. Why now?”
She didn’t answer, probably because she couldn’t think of a good reason.
“You look great,” I said.
“Mmm. Spare me.”
“You do, Hazel. It’s nice to touch base with you again, even if it’s just for a night.”
“Not even that,” she replied. “I’m just here for Kara.”
Little did she know that I was about to change her life all over again.
6 Hazel
I sipped my beer, despising every second of being in the VIP area with Damien next to me. I didn’t belong here, not with him and not on my own. It was just a reminder of what I hadn’t achieved. Then again, I’d never wanted to “achieve” this type of lifestyle.
McCutcheon’s Café was a family-style eatery, and I’d always pictured myself running it, maybe settling down one day in the distant future, having a daughter or son who would grow up working in it like I had.
I sighed and placed the beer on the table, purposefully shifting my gaze away from Damien and his ridiculous sex appeal.
His dark hair was the kind women dreamed of running their fingers through, and his suit jacket hinted at muscles in all the right places. Warmth from his body radiated against my right side, and my nipples were in a permanent state of “hey, bitch, why don’t you take him home?”
The girls were betraying me.
I sucked in several deep and slow breaths, looking over at Ka. She was practically straddling the new guy, now, and it irked me, deeply. This wasn’t her. Sure, she was a party girl, but she’d been loyal to Timmy.
“God damnit, Kara,” I whispered.
“You want to get her home,” Damien said.
“Yeah, that’s the general idea, but she’s not exactly in the most malleable mood.” I turned to him, and my heart fluttered. Did he have to have such dark, meaningful eyes? Seriously, someone up there had decided to create the perfect man. And then someone down below had decided to imbue him with the cold ability to crush hearts.
“Stay here.” Damien got up and unbuttoned his suit jacket, the flash of cotton shirt a tease. He strode over to Kara and the guy whose mouth she’d decided to inhabit. He tapped the “acquaintance” on the shoulder, bent, and said something.
Next thing, the guy was up and rearranging his shirt and jacket. He nodded to Damien, gave Kara a quick kiss on the cheek, then rushed off.
“Hey!” Kara shouted. “Hey, where are you going? What the fuck? Jason!”
Damien bent and spoke to her next.
She pouted but eventually nodded and got up, grabbing her purse from the velvet upholstered chair next to her. Kara stood with her arms folded, glaring off to one side, her brow furrowed and her jaw set.
Damien strolled over. “Ready to go?”
“What did you do?” I asked. “And why didn’t you do it sooner?”
“I did what I do best,” he answered. “And I was hoping I’d get a moment to talk to you, Hazel. Not a single man in here would blame me for that. Coming?” He offered a hand.
I got up without taking it and brushed past him. “Ka,” I said. “Are you going to explain to me what’s going on?”
“Just butt out, OK?” Kara snapped. “I’m not in the mood for your judgmental, self-righteous bullshit.”
It was a slap in the face. I immediately backed up, stinging in a way I couldn’t quite fathom. I wasn’t self-righteous. Judgmental, probably, but I’d wanted to help her. That was what family did. That was what we’d always done—stuck together.
Damien appeared next to me, and my anger at him redoubled. If he’d just stayed away from her… or me? It didn’t matter.
“Shall we?” he asked.
The car ride in the back of his luxury SUV was uncomfortable. I was sandwiched between him and my sister, hot on one side and cold and angry on the other.
