Page 104 of The Fix

“But if you want to,” Cedar adds, her hand finding my shoulder. “You gotta wait until his shift is over and we will totally wait with you.”

I snicker, but nod to Cedar’s receding form as the lights change in the room and the stage illuminates.

A deep beat fills the space, one of those that’s so bassy that I can feel it’s reverberations rattling around in my chest, and a figure darkens the far corner of the stage. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way front and center, his caramel skin and dark hair lit up perfectly, his hips rotating to the music.

Slinking back in the wing-backed chair seems like the wrong approach to this situation, but that’s exactly what I do when the stranger comes to the edge of the stage and grips the tight tee shirt covering his clearly defined torso.

It should be tempting when he rips the shirt from his frame, exposing his sculpted muscles, the shreds of material hanging from his arms.

Just as it should be attractive when he fists his pant legs and yanks the tearaways in a move that leads him to his knees.

Knees he crawls on towards me, his bare bottom on full display, until his hands find the arms of my chair and his body lifts right in front of my face.

The heat of his bare skin skims my knees and I clench my already crossed thighs even tighter when he stands, naked as the day he was born.

I’m single. I have been for a long time.

So why does this feel like betrayal?

The man is beautiful. His moves alluring as he twists and grinds in the air around me. He’s even got a sheen of sweat coating his skin that makes it look like he’s glowing in the light.

But when he leans down to me, hips gyrating in my direction, and his lips ghost over the shell of my ear, I instantly wish I could sink into the cushion beneath me and disappear.

Anywhere else but here, because while I might be single, my heart is clearly still stuck in the past.

If this enticing stranger can’t catch my attention, will anyone else ever?

Those lips, too hot against my ear, lean close enough that skin makes contact.

“Aye, mami,” he mutters in a thick accent, and I freeze. “Eres tan hermosa. I get off in two hours.”

I push on his sweaty shoulders.

“No, thank you,” I mutter, the edge of my voice shaking as he leans back with his brows in his hairline and it’s just enough for me to bolt from the seat.

With my heart in my throat and the women I came with hot on my heels, I sprint from the private room and out into the wild mass of gyrating bodies.

All the colors flashing, the musky scent of sweat mixed with booze thickening the air, makes it hard to breathe.

I shouldn’t be here.

“I shouldn’t have come,” I say the thought out loud, my heeled feet refusing to stop despite the hands that grab at me and the voices that ask things like ‘are you okay?’.

My lungs feels like they’re working overtime, through a sludge of guilt that rolls over me violent enough that it churns my stomach.

When I break out into the humid night air, a sense of relief washes over me and I pull in the first deep breath since that man took the stage just for me.

“Anna,” Aria murmurs, her voice soft and close as she lays a hand on my shoulder and helps guide me down the sidewalk. “Just breathe, honey. You’re alright.”

“Tell me if he did something weird and I’ll go get my bat,” Cedar adds strongly, her thin frame taking up my other side. “But after you breathe, like Ari said.”

Nodding, I do just as the women advise and focus on calming my wild heart.

It takes a moment, possibly a few, before I feel confident enough to raise my sight from the passing sidewalk, and for my stomach to stop threatening to evacuate its contents.

“Where are we?”

“Still in downtown,” Aria answers, her grip still steadying on my shoulder. “The boys are behind us, so don’t worry about it.”

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