I got the sense the conversation was about to turn personal. Hooking my elbow over the couch’s armrest, I gazed out across the bottom floor. Half a dozen more people had entered the club. I didn’t see any sign of Julian, though he should have been here by now.

  “We’re supposed to stick together,” I heard Ann-Marie say.

  “We are,” Riley argued.

  “I think you’ve had a bit much to drink.”

  A heavy pause followed, then some murmuring I didn’t understand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ann-Marie get up and leave the table.

  “Everything all right?” I asked Riley.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she gave me a tight smile. “She just worries a lot. But it’s fine. She’s like this all the time.”

  “It’s nice that you have someone to worry about you.”

  Riley looked at me like she’d never considered the thought. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

  I clasped my hands together and leaned forward. “Trust me. It is.”

  Riley stared at me, confusion on her face. She couldn’t understand why I’d said what I did.

  Neither could I.

  Clearing my throat, I straightened my back. “Would you care for a private tour?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Ann-Marie, who danced with a guy I didn’t recognize. “I don’t want to worry...”

  I reached out and took Riley’s hand. Instead of pulling away, like I half expected her to, she leaned toward me. The table between us was narrow, with little more than a foot separating the couches.

  “I’ll make it worth your time.”

  I didn’t know if she could even hear me over the music, but the look on her face provided the only answer I needed. Her lips parted and her eyes half closed. I bridged the rest of the space between us and pressed my mouth to hers. The softest lips I’d ever experienced gave against mine, and heat shot through my mouth and down to my dick.

  I lifted my free hand up and pushed my fingers through her hair. Riley’s lips opened more, inviting me to seize new territory. But just as I slid my tongue across her teeth, she pulled back. Her mouth broke away from mine, and her hair left my fingers.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Her brow furrowed like she was in pain. “I’m sorry. It’s late, and I really need to go.”

  My whole chest seemed to spasm. “We don’t have to—”

  “It’s fine,” she hurriedly said, not looking at me. She grabbed both her and Ann-Marie’s purses and stood up. “Thanks for the drink. I have an early morning tomorrow, so I really need to go.”

  I made my voice as smooth as I could. “Riley.”

  But she was already rushing away. I sat and watched as she grabbed Ann-Marie’s arm. The redhead shot me a quick glance and nodded. I stood as they passed the table.

  “Thanks for an awesome night.” Ann-Marie smiled. “I had fun!”

  I opened my mouth, but it was bone dry as the girls rushed down the stairs and vanished. A strange, new kind of adrenaline pulsed through me and I clenched my hands.

  I’d been rejected.

  A ball of fury spun in my chest. I knocked back the rest of my drink and slammed the glass on the table before stalking for the door on the far wall. Damian, one of the security guards, nodded and opened the door for me.

  I moved down the short hallway and threw the door to the second office open. It hit the wall with a bang.

  “Jesus. What’s wrong with you?”

  Julian sat on the leather couch, his arms crossed and his feet up on the coffee table. Behind him, lights from the building across the street illuminated the window. In front of him, the wall-mounted flat-screen simultaneously showed four different sections of the club. I gave the screen a quick scan but didn’t see Riley or Ann-Marie. They’d left the club for good.

  “You’re just up here watching the security cameras?” I growled.

  “And waiting for something good to happen.”

  I crossed the room and helped myself to a drink at the bar. “You might as well go home. It’s a bust down there.”

  He chuckled. “No prospects this evening?”

  I downed a gulp of vodka and joined him on the couch. “All these girls are so stuck-up.”

  Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it. Plenty of girls might be stuck up, but not Riley. She didn’t leave because she had a stick up her ass. She left because she was… what? Afraid? Nervous?

  “If you’re in need, you know where to look.”

  I wrinkled my nose in distaste. My eyes drifted over to the desk and the computer sitting there. “Has anyone been added?”

  Julian shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  I set my drink down next to his feet. “That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar coffee table.”

  “And these are three-and-a-half-thousand-dollar loafers. Go pull up the list.”

  His stupid comeback pulled a chuckle out of me. Even when I sank into my worst moods, Julian’s nonchalance had a way of smoothing me over. I went and settled myself at the desk, then typed in the password to get myself to the computer’s home screen. Once there, I used a second password to open the file.

  There was only one copy. It was an agreement the four of us made when we were first kicking around the idea of starting a list. Just because we were all right with sharing information on the women we’d slept with didn’t mean that we were all right with the whole world knowing we did it. If people were aware of how readily my friends and I exchanged women, my real estate empire would take a blow that would be very difficult to recover from.

  I performed a search for new information. Each subject came complete with a name, a short description, a photo, and information on where to find the woman. There was nothing new.

  I pushed my chair back from the computer in disgust. It wouldn’t matter if there was a new girl on the list. I wouldn’t be interested in her, anyway.

  Not unless her name was Riley and she came with chocolate-brown eyes and cotton candy pink lips.

  “This isn’t any help,” I announced, going back to the couch to finish my drink. The list was supposed to be an easy way to allow Julian, Seth, Davis, and I to acquire women. The concept, put simply, was that having a file cut out a significant amount of time spent hunting. When we had a craving for a certain type of woman, all we had to do was open the database, type in a search word, and bang.

  Since all four of us were men with no interest whatsoever in starting long-term relationships, it made sense. As far as rules, there were only two. If you slept with a woman, you put her on the list — unless you had plans to make her your official girlfriend. Most importantly, you never shared the list with anyone. Ever.

  I finished my drink and ran my hands through my hair. I was tired of the club, but not yet ready to go home. Riley’s departure had left my mouth with the kind of sour taste I’d rarely experienced.

  “Darts?” I asked Julian.

  Before he could answer, the door opened and Seth strode in. “Hey bros, how’s it hanging?”

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  Seth scoffed. “That’s not a very friendly greeting.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “You said you were going to Costa Rica.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Got tired of it. There’s nothing new going on there.” He went to the bar and poured himself some bourbon.

  “Where did you get the tan and highlights then?” Julian asked. “You been hitting the salon?”

  I guffawed, and Seth shot Julian an angry look.

  “Your hair is lighter,” I said, noting the platinum streaks in Seth’s blond hair. “Did you go to the place on Fifth or the new beauty parlor down the block?”

  “Whatever,” Seth grumbled. “You douches are just jealous. You’re up here scratching your balls, and I’m about to hook up with two chicks.” He took a drink. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll get your chance. I’ll put them on the list once I’m tired of them.”

  Speaking of tired, I was already exhausted from Seth’s bullshit. I turned my attention back to the television, still holding onto the small hope that Riley would return to the club.

  I knew it probably wasn’t happening. Most girls would have never even left. Most girls would be halfway home with me by now, busily unzipping their dresses in the back of my limo.

  But Riley wasn’t most girls. And now I was paying for letting her get away.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Riley

  Ann-Marie didn’t speak the whole way to the train. I knew her gears were turning, and she was waiting for the right moment to say something, but as we descended the steps into the subway station, I didn’t even care. I already regretted leaving Enigma, and I hated the feeling.

  I could still feel Xavier’s lips pressed against mine. It was like they’d burned my skin. Marked me.

  It was May and warm, but I wrapped my arms around myself as we stood on the platform and waited for the train. It arrived with a screeching that split my ears. Even as the doors opened, I considered changing my mind and not going home.

  I could turn around and go right back to Enigma.

  If Xavier kissed me, he certainly wanted more. And why shouldn’t I give it to him? No one was stopping us from hooking up.

  Except for me.

  I didn’t turn around. I got on the train and fell into a seat next to Ann-Marie.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  I turned my gaze to her. “Huh?”

  “He’s a player.”

  Though I was thinking the same thing myself, I bristled at her words. “You don’t know that.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Riley. Come on. He owns that club. He got us a table. I saw him kiss you. We weren’t at a church meet-and-greet for singles. Something tells me Xavier isn’t in that club every night looking for his soul mate.”

  I sighed. “I know. And I guess I instinctively knew that the second he touched me. I just let myself get swept away for a minute.”

  “Of course you did. The guy is gorgeous.”

  I didn’t have anything to say to that. I was feeling worse by the second. It had been almost six months since I’d had any action of any kind, and the last time wasn’t even good. It was with a guy who used to work at the bar I waitressed at. What we went out on probably didn’t even qualify as a date, since it was tacos and margaritas with three of our coworkers. The night ended with me going home with him, sleeping over, and realizing in the morning that I’d made a terrible mistake.

  It wasn’t an experience very unlike the current night’s. Except this night, instead of cheap tequila, I’d drank vodka that probably costed as much as my rent.

  “He was hot though,” Ann-Marie murmured.

  I sighed again. “Yep. You said that.”

  “Hey.”

  I looked her square in the face. “Hey.”

  “If you want to go back there, find him, and go home with him… I won’t judge you.”

  A laugh burst out of me. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I don’t believe you. You just said he was a player.”

  “And he likely is. Look, I know it doesn’t sound like me but don’t you think it’s time?”

  I played dumb and just stared back at her.

  “It’s been four weeks since I had sex, and I’m about to go crazy. I can only imagine what it’s like for you.”

  “It wouldn’t be worth it.” I delivered the words with a resoluteness, though deep down, I still wasn’t so sure.

  “I got ya. You’re right. Okay, then, let’s find you someone else.”

  I groaned. “No. Right now, I just want to go home, take a bath, and forget men even exist.”

  Except I couldn’t. Once home, Ann-Marie disappeared into her room and turned the radio up loud. She was probably slightly upset that we left the club, even though she promised we would go the second one of us wanted to. I swore to myself I’d make it up to her with a visit to the chocolate restaurant and went into the bathroom to draw a bath.

  It was too warm for a piping hot bath, but I took it anyway. Gripping the edge of the tub, I eased myself down into the water. The steam wrapped around me and purged me of my worries. Finally, I could relax. With a sigh, I leaned back and stretched out.

  But all I saw was Xavier. His gray eyes and grim mouth. We were at a club having fun, but there was still something so serious about him. It scared me. Thrilled me. Drew me to him.

  And ultimately pushed me away.

  He was probably on to the next girl five minutes after I’d left Enigma. I figured I should count myself lucky for dodging such a bullet. If I had gone home with him, the night might have been an amazing one, but it probably would have ended there. I was a shy, awkward geek who preferred a night spent baking cupcakes and watching reruns of nineties sitcoms to going out and flirting. Xavier, however? He had a body that looked like it was chiseled out of stone. With a face to match and more money than he could ever need, women probably threw themselves at him on a regular basis.

  Which is why he wouldn’t have a need to spend a second night with any of them.

  But maybe it would have been worth it. Maybe just that one night would have made me happy.

  I couldn’t keep the pestering thoughts at bay. I hit the drain and got out of the tub while the water was still warm. Ann-Marie was still in her bedroom, but the music was off. I crept to my bedroom, got dressed for bed and set my clothes out for my shift the next day. I set the alarm on my phone, and without really thinking about it, found myself opening Instagram.

  But it wasn’t my feed I ended up browsing. It was my own posts. I laid on my back in bed and found my uploads from over a year before. It was masochistic, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Eighteen months before, ninety percent of my Instagram posts revolved around one topic: my relationship. It was all Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. Me and Jesse on the ferry. Me and Jesse getting frozen yogurt. Me and Jesse at his family’s cabin in the Poconos. In each photo, he grinned at the camera, gorgeous with his sandy blond hair and deep-set dimples. Looking back, I almost felt sorry for myself. Maybe I was obsessed with our relationship, enamored to an unhealthy degree with the best boyfriend I’d ever had.

  Because when he left, things were bad for me. Really bad. I fell into a month-long depression. Maybe if I had been a little more objective about our relationship, admitted that we might not be forever, I would have been able to deal with the fallout.

  But that wasn’t me. That had never been me.

  And that was how I knew I couldn’t do a one-night stand. Even the drunken hookup with my coworker messed me up, and I wasn’t into the guy. I just had this tendency to get attached. Hard.

  I plugged my phone in to charge and turned off all the lights but the salt lamp in the corner. Back in bed, I rolled onto my side and stared at the familiar glow as I fell asleep.

  I did the right thing, I reminded myself. I did the right thing.

  But no amount of assurances could rid my mind of those piercing gray eyes.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Xavier

  Despite it being almost two, the night was still in full swing as I made my way across the club. One more minute in the office with Seth, and I might have killed myself.

  The guy and I had never really gotten along. The only reason he was part of this whole operation — the list and Enigma — was because he was Davis’ cousin. I kept things civil between us simply because starting shit would make me look bad. But, Jesus, the things that guy said sometimes… he sounded just like the spoiled, billionaire brat, frat boy that he was. Seth had never worked a day in his life, and that fact was written all over him.

  I did another once-over of the club, just in case Riley had returned during the short amount of time it took me to leave the security camera feed and walk to the main floor. She was nowhere to be found.

  Irritation climbed through my chest like a thorn-covered vine. I leaned against the end of the counter and caught Mikey’s eye. The young bartender hustled over to me.

  “Everyone happy tonight?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir,” he smiled. “It’s a great night.”

  “Good,” I murmured. My eyes slid past him and settled on a young woman halfway down the bar. She was hot, but that wasn’t the reason she caught my attention. It was the tight smile she wore. The way she turned in her seat, trying to avoid the man standing next to her.

  I took an empty stool a couple seats down from the two and turned my ear to them. The music made it hard to hear their whole conversation, but snippets made their way to me.

  “...I bought you a drink,” the guy said.

  “...didn’t ask...” the girl responded, leaning even farther away from him.

  My fingers curled up and dug into my palms. It was a conversation I’d heard a hundred times. There were different versions of it, but they were all the same at the core. A douche walks into a bar, takes a look around, and decides he can have any woman he wants. When girls don’t comply, he takes it upon himself to pressure them into spending time with him.

  I was an avid participant in the chase. And I’d never win Boyfriend of the Year, on account of never having been someone’s boyfriend. But I didn’t pressure women. I didn’t push them to do something they didn’t want to.

  Ever.

  If a girl said no, I fucking listened. And I couldn’t stand men who didn’t do the same. They were scum, not worthy of sharing oxygen with the rest of us.

  I slid my eyeline sideways and caught sight of the girl’s face. She pushed hair behind her ear and reached for her purse. Her jaw was tight, but her eyes betrayed her fear and pain.

  Quick as a whip, a memory from long ago took me over. I saw my mother’s eyes, so like the girl’s in front of me. She cowered on the floor under my father, waiting for him to hit her again. And I stood there, watching the whole thing, powerless to do anything about it.

  It was a flashback that was as clear and real as the present moment. I took a deep breath and pushed it away. I wasn’t seven anymore. I was a grown man. I was thirty years old. And I didn’t put up with shit.

  The girl started to walk away from the bar, but the skeevy dude stepped in front of her and blocked her way. He folded his arms and gave her a satisfied grin, like he’d won the game and there was nothing she could do about it.