Page 196 of If Our Hearts Collide

I am jealous that Daphne is living her best life doing whatever the hell she wants, and I’m jealous that Collins isn’t walking through life feeling as defeated as I am right now.

Maybe carrying my heart on my sleeve just to be plucked away and stomped on isn’t an enviable quality to have. If I can’t protect my own heart, then I can’t expect anyone else to want to.

“I was given strict instruction to stay away from Collins from Master Yuri. Our limited contract was terminated, no discussion, no questions allowed to be asked. So even if I wanted to, it’s now considered forbidden and very distasteful. I just have to accept that.”

I feel my jaw release muscle control as my mouth drops. “Contract?”

Daphne’s hands slide up to her mouth. “Oops. Forget I just said that. I think I must be confused or high or hungry… Or just plain stupid. Fuck.” She draws out the swear word and starts to walk away.

I gently grab her elbow. “Stop. Please. What contract?”

Daphne turns to look at me, and from the way her skin pales to an alabaster shade of white, I know she is regretting her slip of the tongue. But now I know there’s some sort of contract, and there’s no way to undo this tidbit of information.

“The membership contract.”

“Bullshit,” I hiss. “Stop lying to me. I can tell all over your face that you are hiding the truth.”

“Just ask Collins. You obviously know each other. But please don’t mention me. He’ll be furious that I told you. It’s nothing special between us. I don’t even know if he remembers my name. And if word got out what I just revealed, I may get kicked out of here for breaching the confidentiality agreement. But that’s what I do; I get my mouth into trouble. Ask Master Michael, and he will verify that the only time it shuts up is when I’m swallowing a cock.”

I try to mentally sieve through all of Daphne’s monologue words. “Okay, fine, I won’t mention you. I would never intentionally get you in trouble.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

Daphne spots Michael and makes her way toward him, as I scope out the overall vibe of the club and reacquaint myself withthe layout. Despite being here once before, the theme for the night is giving this place a dangerous, electric feel.

Members are dancing closer. The music is darker, more suggestive. Even the bar’s decor is more gothic and symbolic of a dungeon.

The downside of having my hair secured up high on top of my head in a curly blonde waterfall is that I cannot use it as a shield to hide behind. I have a wide lens on my surroundings, and knowing that I don’t have anyone to use as a social crutch is a bit terrifying to me now that Daphne is occupied.

I mean, I can’t be the only one who decided to come alone. Yet, everyone seems to know one another. Making my way to the bar, I decide to splurge and get a drink. Maybe it will calm my nerves wreaking havoc in my stomach.

It didn’t exactly help last time I was here. But lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place—right? Surely tonight will go smoother.

“What’ll it be, miss?” the bartender asks, eyeing me up. He seems more than just a bartender, and I assume he partakes in a scene while off duty. There’s an aura about him that I can’t put my finger on, yet the darkness of his eyes alludes to having a dominant side.

Or I could be completely wrong.

That’s the thing about this time around… Everyone I look at, I silently wonder what kink they are hiding. I also wonder if I’m the most vanilla person here.

Vanilla is the number one ice cream flavor for a reason. It’s delicious.

“Miss?”

“Oh, sorry. Um, I think I want…” My eyes scan the bottles of alcohol.

“Want me to surprise you?”

I look at him with hesitation. “How will you know if I’ll like it?”

The corners of his lips move up into a big smile. “Trust me.”

“Okay…”

He studies me for a moment and then pivots to start pulling down bottles of liquor from the various shelves. He adds several into the mixing container and shakes. Then he pours the contents into a clean glass over ice.

“Try this.”

With hesitation, I take a small sip and feel my lips pucker in the best kind of way from the sweet and sour mixture. “Wow, this is really good. What’s it called?”

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