Page 19 of Hidden Resolution
The waitress, a cheeky little thing with a fierce gleam, a wicked smile, and an I’ve-seen-some-shit attitude, delivered her drink along with a rundown of the bar’s male clientele, complete with warnings about who was trolling for a quick hookup and who might be worth five minutes of her time.
The opening notes ofShake Señorablasted through the speakers, and a golden-haired Adonis strode up. The guy lookedlike he’d stepped off the page of a cologne ad. With no hello and zero hesitation, he slipped his hand in hers and laughingly tugged her to the floor.
“No, I don’t?—”
He waved aside her protest as they joined his group of friends.
Wary, Shonda scanned for her waitress and received the thumbs-up telling her to go with it. And why the hell not? At the very least, it was a story Erica would appreciate. Within a minute, the dance floor was packed. Bodies moved in sync, and laughter filled the air. Spinning and swaying, she found herself swept up in the collective energy, feeling the music and the carefree joy of it all.
Three songs later, winded from laughing, she wove her way back to her table only to be drawn into a tequila-shot lineup. Because, of course, the band was playingTequila, and those were the rules.
Lick. Shoot. Suck.
Repeat.
And repeat again.
Annoying thoughts of Mason evaporated in a haze of lime and salt. Amid endless laughter and spilled booze, Shonda felt at home with her new friends. Before long, they were shouting out songs to be played, dancing, and singing at the top of their lungs.
For the first time in days, she let herself be free. No worrying about who was going to flake or freak out or drop her mid-sentence. Her brain was buzzing, but she didn’t want to stop. It felt too good to let her hair down, both literally and figuratively, and consume questionable amounts of rum.
The vibe mellowed as the tempo changed to a slower, sultry tune. Her nameless blond partner considered it his cue to close in, placing his hands on her hips, intent clear in his hot eyes.
Another man’s hands brought reality rushing back.
She wasn’t ready for another casual fling, not this soon.
Giving him a regretful head shake, she spun to leave and walked right into a wall of muscle. Both hands flew up, bracing against a familiar chest.
Oh no!
She knew those muscles. Her brain had already filed the topography, but her fingers didn’t get the memo. They drifted lower, exploring the ridges of his abs beneath his shirt.
Yep. Definitely Mason Sharp!
“Having a good time, love?” he asked, amusement rich in his tone.
“The best!” she gushed. “You should’ve been here. We did tequila shots.”
She waved toward the crowded madness at the bar.
“I arrived as you were downing your second shot.”
“You did?” Shonda couldn’t recall seeing him, but then again, she hadn’t been searching either.
“Hey, man. I saw her first.” Her blond friend interrupted them with a scowl.
Neither she nor Mason appreciated his complaint.
“Fuck off.” Mason’s voice left no room for argument.
“Why don’t you ask the lady who she wants to be with?” her ex-dance partner challenged, clearly a few drinks past smart.
“Yes, why don’t we?” Mason said silkily, his gaze locked on Shonda. Challenge glinted in his eyes, compelling enough to make her shiver.
There was only one true answer.
“You, Mason,” she replied. “I choose you.”
