Page 8 of Wolf's Mark

I only hoped the hot male behind the bar reacted quickly or she’d bite his head off. The woman hated men.

Huffing, I adjusted my dress for the tenth time, but it wasn’t any more comfortable than two seconds before. The three of them were swaying to the music.

I was hiding behind my second glass of wine, wishing it was time to go home. Maybe I was a wallflower after all.

“We need to leave soon. I have a busy day tomorrow.” It was a lie and Mattie knew it.

“You have no kid tonight, no dead person waiting to be carved up, and no other responsibilities. You are staying a little longer or I’ll erase you from my phone.”

“Tempting.”

“Brat.”

“Bitch.”

We laughed together, but it didn’t change how uncomfortable I felt.

Mattie bumped me with her shoulder. “Don’t look now, but there’s a hot guy at the end of the bar staring at you.”

“He’s likely staring at you since your big tits are hanging out.”

“Would you stop it!”

I gave her a funny look, but couldn’t help glancing toward the end of the bar. Yes, the man was hot, even as disco lights pulsed all around him. There were some men you sensed reeked of sensual passion by the way they carried themselves or by the expression they wore. The dark-haired man with penetrating eyes had that in spades.

“See. He’s staring right at you, girlfriend,” Mattie said, her grin far too mischievous.

And I wanted to wipe it off her face.

I shook my head, taking a big sip of wine and almost choking on it. From what I could see, he was dressed impeccably in a dark suit, which went nicely with his ebony-hued wavy hair. When he lifted his glass, a flash of something caught my eye. A ring. I could see the diamonds from here.

Maybe he was wealthy, a man about town.

Maybe I was kidding myself that some hot guy like that would be interested in me. When I turned away purposely, Shelly glared at me.

“Stop being Debbie Downer. It’s your birthday. Live a little.”

Her words stung, since she was going through such a horrible divorce. Her ex was worse than mine. And that was saying a lot.

“I’m not Debbie Downer. I’m just… cautious. If I hear that phrase again, I’m going to scream.”

“At least that would mean you’re alive. Just flirt with him.” Mattie did her best to spin me around.

I was determined to do that of my own accord. So I waited and counted to ten before doing so.

He was still staring at me, only this time, he wore an amused look on his face. When he lifted his glass in either appreciation or disgust, I lifted my head higher.

Maybe I was the object of his affection. But he would remain where he was and so would I. I wasn’t a one-night stand kind of gal.

“Flirt. Flirt. Flirt.” Camille’s chant would normally piss me off, but it was my birthday. Right?

I took another gulp of my drink then a second, trying my best not to make a fool of myself when I returned the glass to the bar. At least one of my favorite songs was on. Even I was swaying my hips, which delighted the girls.

“You go, hot chick.” Mattie joined me in making some moves.

Suddenly, the four of us were dancing and we weren’t close to the dance floor. At that moment, it didn’t matter. For the first time in months, I was having a good time. Maybe a light had gone off inside my hard head. I deserved to live and enjoy what I could, even if I still felt gutted inside.

One song turned into three and when I reached for my glass, waving my other hand across my face to try to cool off, I realized I had a fresh drink. At least I wasn’t driving. After taking another sip for courage, I casually glanced in the hot man’s direction.

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