Chapter 1 SAMANTHA'S POV

I heaved, swayed and turned recklessly, with Sara occasionally whispering into my ears, the music was loud, we could barely hear ourselves, I looked at her happy face, the only person who wanted to see me happy.

Colored lights flashed into our faces. Sara dragged me deeper into the club, her laughter cutting through the loud music,

"Happy birthday, girl! You deserve to be happy!" I could barely hear her but I also read her lips, shoving another shot into my hand. Tequila. I threw it down my throat immediately like some doctor's prescription, it burned, but not as much as my heart from the heartbreak that Marcus had dished out to me.

I hit the empty glass on the bar, and let the music pull me. We danced, hips swaying, arms up, hair flying. Sara is such a vibe queen, the only reason I have kept it together. For a few minutes, I almost forgot Marcus.

Almost forgot the promises he'd whispered before he left for his "big business trip." Almost forgot how his texts stopped coming, how he only picked mine to scream "I am busy, I'll call you later!" how his calls never came at all.

Another drink. Then another.

I danced even more, I needed to forget he actually did put a ring on it, only to jilt me after all, I guess I was never made to be happy. I swallowed hard, the tears were fighting their way, but I know better than to disappoint Sara here and now, I gulped another shot.

That's when I felt it, eyes on me, I turned to be sure his eyes were on me. I stared back, his height hovered even when he was relaxed into that couch.

Thick arms with black sleeves folded to the bridge, a glass with liquid tilting in between two fingers, dark blue eyes fixed on me.

His gaze locked on me like he'd been watching the whole time. Not creepy. Just... steady. Dark blue eyes that seemed like they were smiling, I moved my eyes away from him.

Men! I am done with them. I have bigger problems to concentrate on. The doctor had asked for $3,000,000 for Mia's surgery, and I have a bleeding heart to stitch together.

But my eyes betrayed me, sliding back to him. He hadn't moved. Still watching, sipping from the glass finally, a smile formed on his lips, and then, he winked.

My stomach flipped.

Sara caught it immediately. She followed my stare, then grabbed my arm, screaming into my ears.

"Oh my God, Sammie! That guy is hot. He's totally into you!, he's been staring at you all night"

I shook my head, hair whipping across my face. "Nope. Not happening, Not ever!"

"Come on!" She bumped her hip against mine. "It's your birthday. Live a little. When's the last time you even looked at a man, When was the last time you even had sex?" her laugh was loud enough

"Three months ago, six months ago, maybe one year but I don't care" I muttered. "I'm done with Men"

Sara's face softened. She knew the whole ugly story, Marcus's promises, the sudden silence, the way I cried myself to sleep for weeks. But tonight she wasn't letting me drown alone.

"Just live in the moment, Marcus has probably moved on," she begged. "Or just talk to him. He looks nice. And those eyes... girl, did you see those eyes?"

My heart shook at the thought of Marcus having moved on, maybe he's totally forgotten about me, about us. I swallowed a hard lump.

My eyes flickered to him again. He was still there, that half-smile still playing on his lips, drew wild thoughts into my head. Our eyes met again, and something hot sparked low in my belly. My thighs tightened. Bare nipples hardened against my black dress.

I cursed myself under my breath. I was still raw from Marcus. Still waiting on him, for a text or maybe a call, and getting all soaked from staring at a man I've not spoken to yet.

But damn, this stranger was handsome. Tall, even when sitting down. Strong hands wrapped around his glass.

The kind of lips that makes you want to kiss him instantly, he was pure temptation.

Sara leaned close to my ear. "You deserve to feel good tonight, Samantha. Just for one night. No strings. No drama. Let yourself have fun."

I swallowed hard. The tequila whispered yes. The music pounded yes. My aching heart screamed no.

I grabbed another shot from a passing tray and downed it. I needed the courage it could give.

"I just want to drink, Sara" I told her, but my voice lacked conviction.

Sara grinned like she'd already won. "Sure you do."

We danced again, harder this time. Every few seconds, my gaze drifted back to him. Each time, he was watching. Filthy smile that gently undid me.

The heat between my thighs grew worse. I hated myself for it. Hated how my body reacted when my heart was still broken.

I needed air. Or water. Or the bathroom, anything to escape his eyes, and Sara.

"I'll need to use the restroom," I shouted to Sara.

She nodded, already pulled back into the crowd by some guy.

The hallway to the restrooms was darker, few people strutting in and out. I pushed the door handle, twitched on the faucet.

A warm hand touched my wrist.

I froze.

Fingers, gentle but firm, circled my skin. I turned slowly.

It was him. The stranger. Stood in my face, he was even better, tall, broad. For a moment, I could have sworn it was Marcus, the dark blue eyes, the lips, or maybe I was beginning to see him everywhere.

"Hey pretty" he said, voice low and smooth "I'm Alex."

My mouth went dry. His thumb brushed lightly over my arm, and electricity shot up my arm.

"I'm..." I almost gave my real name, then stopped. No names. No attachments. "Lena," I lied.

He smiled like he knew, but didn't call me on it. "Happy birthday, Lena."

My breath caught. "How did you..."

"Saw your friend shouting it earlier." His fingers held still on my wrist. "You look like you're celebrating hard, you're really good with those shots I must say."

"Trying to forget harder," I admitted before I could stop myself.

His eyes softened. "Bad day?"

"Bad year." My eyes fixed on his.

He nodded like he understood. "Want company while you forget?"

Every warning bell in my head screamed no. But my body leaned toward him anyway, or maybe the alcohol pushed me.

My fingers found the lapels of his shirt, rubbed across the few strands on his chest. I knew I was going to regret this later, but I was sure to have enough time for that.

He pulled me closer to his chest, both heavy palms resting on my butt, he smelled of cedar and something woodsy.

"I don't do this," I whispered.

"Me neither," he said. "But tonight feels different." "You feel different".

He took my lips into his, sucked on them like some juicy fruit. My heart thumped against my ribs. The hallway spun a little... tequila, music, he pulled back, still holding me, eyes piercing right into my soul. At that moment, I knew I was done for.

He pulled one arm, only to slide his hand to the small of my back, guiding me away from the restroom, toward the exit.

It was cool outside, with few cars parked across the entrance. His car was close. A sleek black sedan. He opened the door to the passenger's seat for me, like it was the most natural thing.

I laughed suddenly, wildly, my hair flowing right behind me.The windows were down, city lights blurring past. I tipped my head back, letting the wind whip through my curls.

Alex glanced over, grinning. "Better?"

"Much," I said, voice loud over the music.

He reached over, fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch lingered on my cheek.

I didn't pull away.

The car sped through the night, music thumping, my pulse matching the beat. Tipsy, reckless, alive.

I leaned into the seat, heart open for the first time in months.

Just one night, no strings to it, I convinced myself.

Just then my phone beeped, I realised my tiny bag was still hanging over my shoulder. I drew it out, it was a text message.