I glance over. The man before me is impeccably dressed. He’s holding a colorful and obviously expensive drink in his hand. The complete opposite of Caleb and his cheap beers.
“Nothing,” I reply, turning to face him.
I can do this. I can. I can bring him to the bathroom, push him to his knees, and let him get me off.
Just something to take the edge off. I needsomething.
“Seems like it’s something. Can I help you with it?”
The way he says that has my insides shuddering. It doesn’t appeal to me at all.
But I push through. “Perhaps.”
He grins and then waves the bartender over. “Maybe another drink will help. A little liquid courage?”
I nod, even though my stomach roils.
All I can think about is Caleb and how much I just want to be on the couch with him right now.
Fucking hell.
“Another?” Velvet asks, and I wince slightly.
Maybe I don’t want another. Maybe I just want to leave.
“Actually, sorry, but I’m good,” I say, realizing that this is all just a waste of time and money. I shouldn’t have come here. I should have done something else.
This was wrong.
It feels so fucking wrong.
“I’m actually going to close out.”
The man eyes me for a moment, then gives me a small, polite nod before drifting away into the crowd, just like the other guy.
He’s realized it, too.
I’m a lost cause.
I quickly pay and tip before pushing my credit card back into my wallet and moving out of the club. What was I thinking? Why was I even here when all I could think about was him?
I should have headed to the all-night coffee shop instead. I should have known better. Caleb has infected me with…something.
Plus, the coffee shop has a small backroom filled floor to ceiling with books. I can order a drink there, curl up on one of those torn chairs, and read.
In fact, that’s what I’ll do.
I slide into my car, turn on the engine, and drive. The farther I get, the less regret I feel.
This was the right choice.
I end up taking the long way to the coffee shop, music blaring from the speakers as I try to force Caleb from my mind.
But it’s fucking impossible. He’s rooted himself in me. His touch, the way he feels against me.
Heavy. Solid.
All-consuming.