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Prologue – Jo
"Woo!” Holly exclaimed, as she lifted her glass high. "To Jo, on her twenty-first birthday!”
"To Jo!” The rest of my friends cheered, and they all lifted their glasses to knock them against Holly’s. I laughed.
"Hey, you guys, you don’t have to make a big deal about it-"
"Of course we do," Holly replied. "You’re twenty-one! You made it! And now you get to party without worrying about a fake ID!”
"I guess so," I laughed, even though I had never exactly been big on the fake IDs before. Sure, maybe I had lied about my age a couple of times to sneak into bars, but I had figured there was no point in rushing it when I was so close to turning twenty-one as it was.
And, now, tonight, it had finally happened. All of my friends had insisted on getting together to go out drinking and hitting the clubs to celebrate the fact I could finally party properly without any restrictions, and I got the feeling we were going to hit every bar in New Ruska before the night was out.
Honestly, I couldn’t wait. It was going to be so much fun. I had just finished a college course in marketing, and I wanted to blow off some steam – wanted to just let loose and relax and have some fun.
And, hey, maybe even meet a guy. I had been so busy with my course, I hadn’t had time for the usual dalliances that the other girls my age got to enjoy – there had been a couple of short-term boyfriends, a couple of clumsy hook-ups, but nothing that had actually felt...exciting. Nothing that had left me craving more. A few of my friends had recounted the stories of particularly intense encounters to me, and I had listened in sheer envy, wondering if I was ever going to have an experience like that.
The club was crowded with guys right now, and I had noticed a few of them shooting looks in our direction, probably noticing the twenty-one sash draped over my torso, realizing we were out to have a good time. None of them had really done anything for me, but the night was still young yet, right?
I sipped on my drink until Holly grabbed my hand and pulled me out on to the dance floor. The music was loud, so loud I could hardly hear anything that she was saying to me; she lifted her hands above her head and moved with ease, and I tried to mimic her movements. This was what guys liked, didn’t they? I noticed a few of them looking at her, clearly wishing they were the ones getting close to her instead of me...
"Hey, that guy can’t stop staring at you!”
Holly called the words into my ear, and I shot a look around, trying to clock who she was talking about.
"Where?"
"Over there, by the bar," she replied, pointing. I turned to follow her gaze – and my heart skipped several beats when I saw who she was gesturing to.
Oh, wow. That guy was...that guy was hot. Seriously hot. The kind of hot that came with an edge of danger, with his cropped blonde hair and icy blue eyes – I could see a tattoo snaking up on to his neck, the shape of it curling out of the top of his shirt. He was seriously muscular, and I could see his muscles bulging beneath the fabric of his top.
And Holly was right. He was staring right at me. He lifted his drink to his lips, not taking his eyes from mine for a moment, and then flashed me a grin.
Oh, God, I could feel my legs getting a little shaky just from the way he was looking at me. I needed to pull myself together...there was something about him that was making every part of me tingle, from the top of my scalp all the way down to my toes.
"You should go over and talk to him!” Holly told me. I shook my head at once.
"No way!"
"Why not?" she demanded, bumping her hip into mine. "It’s your birthday. You deserve to have some fun!”
I took a deep breath. I guessed she had a point. And the way he was looking at me right now, it wasn’t as if he was being particularly subtle about it...it was clear from the way his eyes traced up and down my body, taking in the shape of me in this short dress that barely skimmed the tops of my thighs, that left no doubt in my mind about what he wanted.
And, right now, that was exactly what I wanted, too. I tossed back the last of my drink, and then, plucking up all of my courage, I went over to speak to him.
I slid in to the seat beside him, flashing him a smile. He was a little older than me, and there was this air about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on – something powerful, commanding like he had the whole room in the palm of his hand.
"Hey," I greeted him, my voice shaking slightly. I wasn’t used to just going up to a guy like this and speaking to him, but if I wanted my one crazy night, I was going to have to start, wasn’t I?
"Happy birthday," he remarked, and I glanced down at the sash across my body.
"Oh, thanks," I replied.
"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, turning to wave down the bartender.
"Sure," I breathed. He was so confident, carried himself with such certainty. I couldn’t help but let my gaze fall to his hands, how strong they looked. I could almost imagine how good they would feel against my skin, how easy it would be to just melt into them completely...
The bartender rushed over to serve him at once, ignoring the small crowd of people who were waiting for his attention – hmm, that was interesting. Did he have some kind of influence here, some kind of reputation?
