The night air slapped my face as I stumbled down the street from Noah’s building, rage and heartbreak clawing at my chest in a painful mess. I didn’t even know where I was going, just that I needed to go.

Dads text still rang in my head. I was very very close to crashing out. 

I laughed. Out loud. It came out bitter and broken and ugly. I yanked out my phone scrolling through my contacts as I pressed the call button.

“Hello?” Marisol’s voice came through, warm and familiar.

I didn’t say anything at first. Just breathed.

“Bells?” she said again, voice more urgent and concerned now. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I choked out. “Can you… can you meet me somewhere?”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” I sniffed. “I…I just left Noah’s. He was with Chloe. In bed. And…and…”

“Say less,” she interrupted. “Meet me at The Hook. Twenty minutes. I’ll get us a booth and tequila.”

I sniffled, nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

---

The Hook was dimly lit, the walls a moody red. The locals hardly ever came here as it was primarily patronized by tourists. So no one ever knew anyone here.  Perfect.

Marisol was already in a booth near the back when I got there, a shot glass waiting for me.

“You look like hell,” she said, pulling me into a hug.

“Thanks,” I muttered into her shoulder. “It’s been that kind of day.”

I slid into the booth and downed the shot in one go.

Marisol raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Not even a wince.”

“Heartbreak numbs everything.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I paused as I stared down at the empty shot glass? Did I? “Not now.” I croaked out. 

She nodded and poured us another round. “Then let’s get numb.”

We took the second shot. Then a third. I lost count after that. The warmth of the alcohol spread through my chest, dulling the ache just a little.

I slammed the glass down. “You know what? Now, I want to.”

“Thank God.” She leaned over the table, clasping her hands together. “So let me get this straight,” Marisol said, halfway through her margarita. “Your stepsister and your boyfriend are screwing each other, and your dad bailed on you for your wicked stepmother. On your mom’s death anniversary.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Girl. That’s a whole ass telenovela.”

“I’m not even surprised anymore,” I muttered. “It’s like I’m cursed.”

“Well,” she said, lifting her glass, “cheers to breaking curses.”

I clinked my glass with hers and laughed, a real one this time.

A deep voice cut through our conversation.

“Need a refill, ladies?”

I looked up.

The bartender was tall, tan-skinned, with dark curls pulled back in a loose bun and eyes so brown they bordered on gold. He leaned over the booth, flashing a flirtatious grin.

“I think she might,” Marisol said, nodding toward me.

“I’m Miguel,” he said, eyes still on me. “I’ve seen you around town. Once or twice.” He said to me and my brows rorse. “For real?”

He hummed with a nod. “And you look like you could use something stronger than tequila.”

“She could use an entirely new life,” Marisol replied with a smirk.

He laughed, smooth and deep. “Well, I can’t give her that, but I make a killer mezcal old-fashioned.”

“Bring it on,” I said.

When he walked away, Marisol gave me a look. “Damn. If only you were single…”

“Don’t you dare,” I said, but I was smiling.

When Miguel came back with the drink, he set it in front of me and leaned closer than necessary.

“Just so you know, this one comes with a compliment,” he said.

“Oh?”

“You’ve got sad eyes. But a dangerous smile.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Is that supposed to work on women?”

“Only the ones with broken hearts. And this one’s on the house.” He turned away to attend to other customers. 

I opened my mouth to reply when I felt a chill pass through the air, like the temperature dropped a few degrees.

I turned absentmindedly.

A man had walked into the bar. He was tall, dressed in a dark coat despite the warmth outside, and carried himself like someone who didn’t ask for permission. Or forgiveness.

He didn’t belong here. Not in this town. Not in this bar. He was obviously not a local. 

His eyes scanned the room and landed on me.

I froze. Something about him unsettled me. Not in a bad way. In a too-intense-to-be-safe kind of way. I turned away and back to my drink. 

“Do you know him?” Marisol whispered. She’d seen that?

“Nope.” I popped the ‘P’.

“Then why is he looking at you like he wants to eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner?”

Miguel followed our gaze and tensed slightly. “ Never seen him before. He’s definitely not a local.”

The stranger made his way to the bar, sidling up next to me as leaned against it like he owned it, then looked over his shoulder at me.

Then he smiled. It wasn’t exactly friendly. It was something else. 

I took another sip of my drink. And tried to look away but failed. 

It was him who spoke first , when he cocked his head to Marisol but never took his eyes off me. 

“Mind if I steal her?” he asked, voice low and smooth.

Marisol looked between us. “With that kind of tension, you don’t even need to ask. You know what?” She glanced at her watch free and bare wrist. “Well, just look at the time. I need to go…feed my disabled cat.” She glared at the stranger. “She comes back in one piece. Or else.” Before pushing off the bar and walking off. 

“So…,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “Do you want to get out of here then?”

I scoffed. “What a way to win a girl over.”

He smirked. “I can wine and dine you if you want. You just looked like you were over a lot of bullshitting.”

Well. Was I that open to read? 

I should’ve said no. I should’ve looked away.

But I didn’t.

I slid out of the booth slowly. Miguel’s eyes moved from me to the stranger before he turned away, his jaw clenched. 

Outside, the wind had picked up.

“What’s your name?” I asked as we walked toward the parking lot.

He opened the passenger door of a sleek black car. “Does it matter?”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all.”

He smirked. “You can call me whatever you want tonight. But my names Jason.”

---

The apartment was at the edge of town, overlooking a stretch of empty road and trees. Minimalist. And sparesly held anything personal. Made sense especially if he wasn’t planning on staying in town for long. It was all very convenient actually. 

He poured us both a glass of something expensive, but I barely sipped it. We were kissing before I’d even set it down. His hands were everywhere, his mouth rough and urgent. I whimpered into his mouth as I wound my arms around his neck. He bent and hauled me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. 

He led us to the bedroom where he dropped me on the bed, trailing kisses down my neck and body and undressing me as he did. Desire so strong pooled in my lower belly, that it felt strange. Jason efficiently shed his clothes, his eyes like molten lava as he rolled on a condom. My mouth dried at his size. “That…that won’t fit.” I croaked out. 

He chuckled deeply as he bent over me and spread my legs, nudging it against my heat. “Never say never, darling.”

The night blurred. Everything faded into the background as Jason brought me to levels of ecstasy and euphoria that I’d never reached, orgasming with loud and needy cries. 

Somewhere deep down, I knew this was reckless.

But I didn’t care.

---

When the light peeked through the cracked blinds was when I woke up.

I was alone in the bed, tangled in sheets that weren’t mine. My clothes were scattered across the floor, and the only sound came from the bathroom, water running. 

He was in there.

I stared at the door for a moment.

Then I quietly got up.

I dressed quickly, grabbing my coat and shoes with shaking fingers. My head throbbed from the drinks, my body sore from everything else. It was nice kind of sore. 

My eyes caught the tip of a business card in the pocket of his pants from last night. I pulled it out and saw Bridge Inc. in glossed letters on it. I hesitated then took it with me, though why, I wasn’t sure.  But I knew I couldn’t face him. Not with everything else weighing on me.

I pulled the door open and stepped into the cold morning, letting it slam shut behind me.

I didn’t look back.