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The music at Surge was deafening, a relentless beat that vibrated through my bones and left me feeling exhilarated. It was exactly the escape I needed. Even if it meant drowning out my thoughts in a club where the bass seemed to pulse in sync with my heartbeat.
Slade’s connections meant we had VIP access, and the four of us wasted no time hitting the dance floor. The energy was electric as we moved to the pounding rhythm, our bodies slick with sweat. When a few men behind us started getting too handsy with Sandra, I shoved one of them away with a firm push.
Sandra, with her cute bob and infectious personality, was a magnet for attention. Her bubbly demeanor drew people in, making her the life of any party. Jane, on the other hand, was more reserved. The statistical analyst with her dark, unassuming appearance and librarian glasses had a sharp wit that could captivate an audience when she spoke.
By the time we retreated to our table in the VIP area, we were dripping with sweat, but a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon and a pitcher of ice water awaited us. I poured a glass of water into one of the crystal tumblers and downed it, feeling the cool relief as it quenched my thirst.
“This place is fantastic!” Jane shouted over the music, taking a sip of champagne.
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were content in your quiet little world of numbers and spreadsheets.”
She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Numbers aren’t the only thing that keeps me occupied in the evenings.”
I leaned in, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”
“You first,” she countered, her gaze flicking to me. “I heard you have some hot thing going on.”
I shot a look at Morgan, who just shrugged, clearly amused.
“Lincoln and I are dating,” I admitted.
“Dating and cohabitating?” Jane pressed, her curiosity evident as she poured herself some water.
“Not cohabitating,” I said firmly.
“How many nights a week do you two spend together?” Jane continued, her tone persistent.
“A few,” I replied.
“More than four?” she inquired, a hint of skepticism in her voice.
“Maybe,” I conceded.
“Come on, Erika,” she complained. “You’re practically living together.”
“We don’t live together,” I argued.
“Keep telling yourself that,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement.
I leaned back, pouring myself a half glass of champagne. I had no intention of getting drunk, even though I was tempted to let loose. I wanted to enjoy the night without stumbling back to Lincoln like a drunken mess. But as I danced, the heat and rhythm made me think of what I had left behind earlier. Maybe I should have let Lincoln take me.
Just then, a voice broke through the music, familiar and jarring. “Would you like to dance?”
I turned, stunned to see Foster Black standing over me. His handsome face was unchanged, but the smug aura he carried with him made my stomach churn. It had been eight years since he’d broken my heart, and now here he was, looking as polished as ever in a black suit and white tie.
“Get the hell out of here!” Morgan yelled over the music, rising from her seat.
I grabbed her sweaty shoulder to stop her. I needed to handle this myself. Foster had twisted me into knots when I was just a sophomore in college. Now, I was stronger, and I would confront him. I stood up, my heels adding a few inches to my height, but Foster still loomed over me.
“You actually have the balls to approach me for a dance?” I scoffed, my voice laced with contempt.
Foster smoothed his mahogany hair back, his expression nonchalant. “It was a long time ago. You’re still holding a grudge?”
Before I could respond, I noticed my friends watching intently. I decided it was best to take the conversation somewhere more private.
“I can barely hear you,” I said, turning toward the lounge area. “Let’s talk over there.”
Foster placed a hand on my bare arm, gripping my elbow as he guided me toward the lounge. The area was slightly separated from the main club, with its red leather couches, and a few couples engaged in passionate kisses. I felt a shiver as his touch stirred unexpected goosebumps on my skin. I yanked my arm away, attributing the reaction to the adrenaline from dancing.
