Page 19 of Lethal Infatuation

"Says the woman who complained when I offered her a vodka shot at her reception."

"I've evolved." Amala and I chuckled at her response.

Loud, obnoxious music blared through the speakers in the overcrowded—overrated—club. Ares patted me on the back, inevitably pushing me forward and leaning in so he could talk into my ear.

"Lighten up, man." I slowly turned my head in his direction, glaring at him. "Ever since you came back from vacation, you've been moping around."

"I have my reasons," I muttered nonchalantly, even though the reason for my pissy mood was a woman who sank her nails so deep into my skin and left her mark on me. Literally and figuratively.

I had the scratch marks on my back for a week after our encounter to prove it.

A woman with curly, brown hair and hazel coloured eyes. Mesmerising fucking eyes that were burnt into my memory. It was ingrained, for that matter. Imprinted.

"Reasons that you won't disclose, which is highly unlike you, might I add." We weaved our way through the sea of folks who had drank way too much than they could bear to handle.

"People change." I shrugged. We approached the bar and Ares immediately signalled the bartender, ordering a round of shots while we waited for the rest of our friend group.

"Hm, so they say." He slid the shot of tequila across the wooden countertop until it was directly in front of me. "Drink up."

"Tequila?" I questioned. "So you're willingly trying to forget your evening?" He chuckled, pushing his hair backward before downing the alcoholic liquid.

He hissed and slammed the empty shot glass down. "I'm here for a good time, not a long time."

I couldn't contain my smile and followed suit, slowly bringing the small glass to my lips and then threw the liquid back. The stinging sensation did little to nothing to suppress the fire burning inside of me.

One month. It had beenone fucking monthsince I last saw her face to face. I didn't want to go down this route. I told myself I wouldn't gather intel on her, but that was before I woke up in the middle of the night after our escapade and found the side she slept on fucking empty.

Those sweet, innocent eyes were nothing more than an illusion. If she really was sweet, she would've said something before leaving, but she just disappeared.

That same day, I found out where she worked, lived, what university she attended, what degree she had, her family history, and everything else about her. I even had her fucking social security number.

I drove past her work building on multiple occasions, but never made her aware of my presence. Sometimes, I'd see her walkingdown the street to grab lunch, which always included some kind of iced coffee. Don't ask me how I knew that.

I wanted to get to know her in a more ethical manner, but she pushed my hand.

One month and I could still smell that floral-fruity combination of her perfume. Chanel Chance Eau Tendre. The top notes being quince and grapefruit; middle notes hyacinth and jasmine; base notes musk, iris, Virginia cedar and amber.

How did I know this? By doing the damn research. The scent was imprinted on me at this point. It didn't help that she lived in the same city as me. Of course she did.

Going about her days as if nothing happened between us. I wrapped my hand around the empty shot glass, clenching it tightly in my fist.

"Change of plans," Ares said, making me release my hold and turn to look at him. "Marcus wants us to meet him at Sarepta."

I frowned and gave Ares a puzzled look. "That club isn't really our…scene." He nodded, pursing his lips into a straight line.

"Tell me something I don't know." He grabbed his wallet out the back pocket of his jeans, took out a hundred dollar bill, and slid it towards the bartender.

"This is why I don't do shit like this anymore," I grumbled. Sarepta was only a few minutes away, so we opted to walk. The establishment was on the more high-class side of the city.

I suppose it was better than staying at the shit show we were just at. Drunk people stumbled on the sidewalk and pissed me off even further.

When we reached the club, we showed them our identification and they let us through without any hassles. Marcus, Elliot, and Damien were in the VIP section. They were already surrounded by women and it fucking irked me.

Sometimes I wondered why I was friends with them. "Ares and Nicolas." Marcus stood up, grabbing us by the shoulders. I glanced in Ares' direction with a scowl on my face and he shook his head subtly.

He knew me better than anyone, so he could sense when my patience was wearing thin. "I'm glad you could finally join us." I shrugged my shoulder, making him instantly release his hold on me. "Ah, my bad. Someone's pissy."

"Marcus," Ares warned him. "Is there a reason why we're here in the first place? You've never been one for exclusivity."

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