One reckless choice
1653 Words
(Zara)
I’d barely settled into the booth when he looked at me like he already knew I was trouble. Up close, he was even more dangerous than he’d looked across the room. Dark hair, expensive suit, calm eyes that missed nothing. He looked like the kind of man who never rushed because the world waited for him anyway.
His gaze moved over the wig, the glasses, then returned to my face. “You hide from everyone,” he said, “or am I special?” His voice was low, smooth, and entirely too sure of itself. Something about that tone made me want to challenge him.
“I only hide from annoying men,” I said. I reached for my drink and took a sip while holding his stare. If he expected me to blush or stumble, he was going to be disappointed.
He leaned back against the booth like the whole place belonged to him. “Then I should be offended.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. There was something expensive about him that had nothing to do with the suit.
“You should be grateful I sat down,” I said. That earned me a fuller smile. It changed his face just enough to make him more dangerous.
“What should I call you?” he asked. His eyes stayed on mine without blinking once. Men usually tried too hard when they wanted attention. He looked like he’d never needed to.
“You shouldn’t call me anything,” I said. I set my glass down and crossed one leg over the other. Keeping some control felt important tonight.
“No name?” he asked.
“No name,” I said. “That usually means trouble.”
“Then call me Trouble.”
“Done,” he said.
“What should I call you?” I asked.
“Whatever you’d like.”
I looked him over slowly. “Arrogant.”
“That’s fair.”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
That annoyed me more than it should have. I hadn’t come here to laugh. I’d come here because if I stayed home, I’d replay Ryan and Chloe until sunrise.
“You’re angry,” he said.
“You’re nosy.”
“You didn’t deny it.”
“Maybe I’m having a bad night.”
“Maybe you’re trying to turn it into a better one.”
That landed too close to the truth. I hated that he noticed things.
“You always read strangers this badly?” I asked.
“Only the interesting ones.”
Then Mia appeared beside the table.
“No,” she said.
I looked up. “You need to stop starting conversations with that word.”
“She’s leaving,” Mia said.
“She doesn’t seem convinced,” he replied.
“Bathroom. Now.”
I sighed and slid out of the booth. “Try not to miss me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Mia dragged me toward the restroom hall and turned on me the second we were alone.
“Absolutely not.”
“He’s just sitting there.”
“He’s sitting there like a walking mistake.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know enough. Men like that come with money, ego, and damage.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
“You made that up on the spot.”
“And I’m still right.”
Her face softened.
“Zara, I know tonight hurt. But don’t use some stranger to prove you’re fine.”
“I’m not proving anything.”
She gave me a look that called me a liar without saying it.
“Okay,” I admitted. “Maybe a little.”
“You can do better than revenge.”
“What if I don’t want revenge?”
“Then what do you want?”
I thought about Ryan’s face covered in cake. I thought about Chloe in his bed. I thought about how badly I wanted one hour that didn’t belong to either of them.
“I want one night that doesn’t belong to them.”
Mia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“You always say things that make it hard to argue.”
“That’s because I’m right.”
“One drink, then you leave with me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That means no.”
“That means maybe.”
She groaned and walked into the restroom.
I checked my reflection in the mirror. The wig still sat right. The glasses still hid enough.
Good.
I didn’t want to look like the woman Ryan betrayed tonight.
When I returned, he was still there. Of course he was. Men like that looked like they’d never been left waiting in their lives.
“Your friend dislikes me,” he said.
“She dislikes men.”
“Smart woman.”
“She’d hate that answer.”
I slid into the booth and picked up my drink.
“What happened tonight?” he asked.
“You ask too many questions.”
“You avoid too many answers.”
I looked down at the table.
“My boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend.”
His expression didn’t change, but something colder entered his eyes.
“That was careless of him.”
I laughed once without humor.
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“He lost something valuable.”
The words caught me off guard.
“You flirt with all heartbroken women?”
“Only the ones who walk up to me first.”
Arrogant again.
Consistent, at least.
The server came over, and he ordered another drink for me and water for himself.
“You’re not drinking?” I asked.
“I’m driving.”
“How responsible.”
“I have hidden depths.”
“I doubt it.”
He smiled then, real and sudden. It changed his whole face in a way that felt unfair.
We talked after that about nothing serious and everything serious. He asked where I grew up, and I lied. I asked what he did, and he said business before changing the subject. I asked if he was always this confident, and he said yes.
“Do women find that annoying?” I asked.
“You’re still here.”
I laughed hard enough to draw a glance from the next table.
For the first time since opening Ryan’s bedroom door, I forgot to be miserable. That scared me more than anything else tonight.
Mia returned with her purse in hand.
“I’m leaving in fifteen minutes.”
“You can go,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re staying?”
“Maybe.”
“If she texts me crying, I’m blaming you,” she said to him.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
She leaned down and kissed my cheek.
“Use your brain.”
“I left it at home.”
She shook her head and walked away muttering.
I watched her go with a small twist of guilt.
“She cares about you,” he said.
“She bosses me.”
“Sometimes that’s the same thing.”
Then the music changed. A slower song filled the room.
“Dance with me,” he said.
He stood and held out his hand.
“I don’t know your name,” I said.
“You said names weren’t necessary.”
“That was before you started making requests.”
I stood anyway.
He closed his fingers around mine and led me to the dance floor.
One hand settled at my waist while mine rested on his shoulder. There was enough space between us to be polite, but not enough to ignore him. I could feel the heat of him through the dress.
“You do reckless things often?” he asked.
“Only on terrible nights.”
“Specific answer.”
“Specific night.”
His thumb moved once against my side.
Tiny motion.
Huge effect.
“You’re tense,” he said.
“I’m dancing with a stranger.”
“You approached me.”
“I’m beginning to regret it.”
“No, you’re not.”
I looked up at him.
“No, I’m not.”
I stopped noticing everyone else in the room. People laughed nearby, glasses clinked, music moved through the air. None of it mattered.
“What are you really doing here tonight?” he asked.
“Trying to remind myself one bad man isn’t all men.”
“And am I helping?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you turn out to be another mistake.”
“I probably will.”
The honesty should’ve sent me running.
Instead, it pulled me closer.
Then he drew me in until my chest brushed his. I should’ve stepped back. I didn’t.
“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.
My throat went dry.
“I haven’t asked you to start.”
The corner of his mouth lifted.
Then he kissed me.
It wasn’t rushed or careless. It was deep, controlled, and entirely too good for a man whose name I didn’t know. My fingers curled into his shoulder before I could stop them.
When he lifted his head, I forgot every warning Mia had given me.
“Still think this is a mistake?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He took my hand and led me outside.
A black car waited at the curb with the engine running. He opened the back door and looked at me like he already knew the answer.
Last chance.
I could walk away now, go home, and pretend tonight never happened. Or I could choose one reckless thing for myself.
I slid into the car.
He got in beside me and shut the door. Then he gave the driver an address while city lights moved across the glass.
I didn’t know what came next, but I knew I wasn’t stopping it.
- Writer
