Page 1 of Before I Loved You

Prologue

SARAH

God, I need a fucking distraction.

Hmm. Come to think of it, a fucking could be just the kind of distraction I need.

The bartender slides a second drink my way, winking, while I thank him with my best attempt at a flirty smile. Bringing the glass to my lips, I let my eyes gaze around the dimly lit room, searching for the one who will spend tonight making me forget everything.

And maybe if I’m lucky, he’ll make me forget what day it is, too.

Let’s see…

Too preppy.

Too old.

Too not my type.

Just my luck, I think, letting out a defeated sigh. Taking a sip of my drink, I close my eyes, enjoying the burn coating my throat, but when my eyes blink open, I see him.

My stomach flutters, my core instinctively pulses, and my lips part just from the mere sight of him.

He’s the one—my distraction.

Inhaling deeply, I remind myself that I’ll be the one in control tonight.

Not him.

Me.

Throwing back the rest of the liquid in my clear glass, I let my eyes drift over him from head to toe, and I can’t help but wonder how freaking tall this man is as he ducks down under the arch of the entryway inside the bar.

God, he’s gorgeous. From his muscular biceps, short dark hair that’s faded on the sides, light brown skin, perfectly hypnotizing smile, and tall, lean frame, reminding me of an Olympic god, he seems to be the whole damn package, ready to be my…one-night distraction.

Yeah, I like the sound of that.

One-night distraction.

Nothing more than that.

Three guys surround him, tall too, but nowhere near as tall as him, and head toward the back of the bar for an empty booth.

But for whatever reason, the mystery man doesn’t go with them. Instead, his eyes wander around the space. And as though he can read my every thought pertaining to him and the wild, sweaty night I have planned for us, his eyes land on me. They subtly glance up and down my body as I rest against the counter and purposefully stick out my ass, hoping to gain his interest.

And it works like a charm.

He saunters over to me—all ten feet of him. Okay, maybe he’s not ten feet tall, but the closer he gets to me, the more my eyes have to look up, and my head has to tilt back.

“Hi,” he says smoothly, leaning his hip against the counter.

He keeps a comfortable distance between us, which I appreciate. Still, at the same time, I find myself wishing he was closer.

My index finger glides around the edge of my glass as I smile at him. “Hi.”

His eyes glimpse down at the empty glass in front of me. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Well, it’s the least you can do, seeing that it’s my birthday,” I tease.

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