Page 9 of Wicked and Ruthless

“Because I don’t kiss random guys, even on New Year’s Eve. If you’re looking to get lucky tonight, you chose the wrong girl.”

The last thing she needed was romantic entanglement, especially with another player. If she wanted that, she’d take up with Nash again. But she had too much on her plate, between settling the last of her aunt’s affairs, making the house hers, and starting her new social media director gig after the holiday.

“You’re turning me down before I even ask?” he chided.

“I’m setting expectations. If you’re getting laid tonight, it won’t be by me.”

Thankfully, the song—and their dance—was mercifully nearing the end. A glance around the room told her that the clock would strike midnight in less than five minutes, and Nash was polishing off another round of tequila shots.

Suddenly, Haisley wished she was anywhere else. At least if she were home, she’d be curled up with a decent book and her cat. When the new year started, she’d be stuck here in a crowd…yet still feel utterly alone. Not that her posse wouldn’t try to cheer her up. They would, and they would mean well. She loved her girls. But now that she’d seen Nash, she didn’t feel much like celebrating because her heart still felt broken.

She’d been kidding herself otherwise.

Rhymes-with-fuck stopped dancing and stepped away before the song ended. “If you’re going to be a cunt, we don’t have much to say.”

Since he didn’t mean anything to her, Haisley could care less that he’d called her something vile. “We have nothing to say. Buh-bye.”

As he stomped off, she headed toward the bar where Matt and Madison were supposed to be watching her drink…but they only had eyes for each other. It was fine. She was partied out anyway. She should have stayed home with her feline, her eBook smut, and her fellow online sleuths in the Crime Solvers International group, cheekily known as CSI.

Out of her peripheral vision, she caught sight of movement from Nash’s corner of the bar. She flicked a glance in his direction. When he pinned her with a hot gaze, her heart skipped.

Biting back a gasp, Haisley broke their connection and jerked back to focus on her friends. But his stare was still on her. She felt his visual touch through her whole body.

Emotion clogged her throat. Why couldn’t she get this man out of her system? And why couldn’t she stop herself from turning back to look his way?

Instantly, their gazes melded. The music and the loud chatter faded away. Even her friends dissolved into the background.

Suddenly, determination stamped across his rugged face. Her pulse leapt. Time froze. Oh, god. What was he going to do? She had no idea what he had in mind as he started toward her…

Around Nash, people collectively turned to look at the flat screens around the bar where the typical New Year’s Eve broadcast from Times Square had entered the last sixty seconds of its countdown. As this year ended and another began, he realized one thing: he’d spent this entire fucking year without Haisley under him. Most of the last, too. He’d be goddamned if he spent next year without her.

Blindly, he reached for the beer his brother had ordered him a while back. It was lukewarm, and he didn’t care. He chugged the whole thing down and slammed the bottle on the table. Unfortunately, imbibing too much had only proven that no amount of booze was going to take his mind off Haisley.

Thank fuck the tool she’d been dancing with backed off. He’d looked angry, too. Nash suspected his sassy, sexy girl had told the motherfucker to get lost, and good for her.

Good for him, too. Now he didn’t have to break the asshole’s arms.

He knew precisely who he wanted to kiss at midnight, and he didn’t give a goddamn that they hadn’t had a conversation in two years or that everything between them was in shambles.

He. Wanted. Her.

A surge of reckless determination coursed through his veins. Given the way she was focused on him as he crossed the bar, heading straight for her, he didn’t think his desire was one-sided.

“Haisley,” he boomed.

She didn’t move. Others did, jumping out of his path. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. He ignored the whispers and the gawking. In that moment, absolutely nothing mattered but reaching her.

“Ten, nine, eight…” the crowd chanted collectively.

As the deafening countdown rang out around them, Nash didn’t—couldn’t—pull his stare from Haisley as, one giant step after the other, he ate up the distance between them.

“Nash? What do you?—”

“Want?” he drawled.

“Seven, six, five…”

Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her close, his dark stare unwavering. Raw, primal intensity scorched his veins. The urge to tear off her little black dress and plow his way into her doubled when her breath caught and her eyes widened.

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