Page 53 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

I continue whining and roll the made-up word around in my mouth.

Wild-ness. Wild-ness.

“I did say that, babe. I did. But you’re drunk, and I know you’re going to hate me in the morning with the hangover from hell if I let you continue.” She reaches for my glass again and I dodge her, stepping back to down the last sip in one gulp.

“I’m letting my hair down, Yenn. Just—” I look around, but the investment banker is nowhere to be found.

Well, damn. I guess there goes that.

The music shifts toBUTTERFLY EFFECTby Travis Scott, and the bass infects my blood.

“Dance with me. Dance with me and we can go.”

My hips start swaying on their own accord, and her concerned grimace turns into a small smile. I pull on her hand, bringing her close to me.

Tilting my head back as the sexy melody and words float over my body, I feel outside of myself.

I radiate feminine energy personified—like I’m a goddess.

As the chorus hits, I roll my head on my neck, my hair a sensual caress against my overheated skin, and I think about Storm.

Storm, Storm, Storm.

Storm Sandoval doesn’t give a fuck about me. And he shouldn’t.

I don’t need him to.

I don’t want him to.

I run my hands up my chest and collar my neck.

Liar.

Maybe if I say it enough times, I can make it be true.

The song comes to an end, and I peel my eyes open…things are really spinning now.

“All right, you. It’s time to head out,” Yenn says, and I have to close my eyes when she loops her arm against mine, turning my body toward the exit.

“I was having so much fun, though. I need to do this more often,” I mutter, and Yenn mumbles something I can’t make out.

With a sigh, I move my head to look around the crowded room. This is a vibe. A whole vibe.

I’m twenty-two years old. I’myoung.Why am I living my life like an octogenarian?

I’m going to do this again. Well, maybe I won’t get so drunk next time, but I can’t say I regret anything from tonight.

See you later, Velour.

The exit sits at the top of the stairs, looming above the crowds, but I miss a step, disentangling from Yenn. People rush between the two of us immediately, and I lose sight of my best friend. I take a step around someone and lose my footing. I’m prepared to eat it—just as I’d expected to when I put these damn shoes on—but I’m saved when two tanned arms wrap around my waist.

“Whoa, you okay there, beautiful?” I look up at my savior, and it’s the investment banker. “Leaving so soon?”

I straighten and try to smile, but there are two of him.

“You don’t have to run off. We were just beginning to have fun,” he says.

Maybe I could end my dry spell with him?

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