"Uh, hello," I managed, overwhelmed by yet another gorgeous man.

Where were they all coming from, and why was this one talking to me?

He jerked his chin toward the girls on the black sofas. "I wouldn't go anywhere near Sloan if I were you. She's not the most welcoming person here."

I laughed. "Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way."

His eyebrows rose. "She already took a bite out of you, did she?"

Weird choice of words.

I nodded. "A mouthful."

"Sorry about that. I wish I would have seen you sooner. I would have shown you around."

I tried to picture getting a personal escort through all the sex rooms, and my blush crawled to the tips of my ears.

He tilted his head at me. "I'm Stride, by the way."

"Oh, I'm Harlow."

"What an unusual name."

I blinked at him. "Your name is Stride."

He laughed. "Touché. It's nice to meet you, Harlow."

"Same here."

His gray eyes searched my face and hair. "You're beautiful, Harlow. Has anyone told you that before?"

I swallowed hard. "And you are supremely confident, Stride. Has anyone ever told you that? Do you talk to all the ladies like this?"

He chuckled. "Sometimes, but that doesn't mean it's any less true."

I smiled. "Well, thanks."

My blush deepened, if that were possible. I felt like I was suddenly in a bubble, just Stride and me. It was a little dizzying.

I had never experienced anything like it before today. Two hot guys chatting me up, I mean, and then bam. Twice. First Aimes and now Stride, both treating me like I was the center of the universe.

His gaze flicked around the room before returning to me. "So, Harlow. What on earth are you doing in a place like this?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Hey, it's my kind of place, and most importantly, it's my kind of people."

"Really?" I cringed a little on the inside. "I don't think that I could say the same, but I don't mind new experiences."

He nodded. "Thank god for that. Who did you come with?"

"What makes you think I came with anyone?"

"You wouldn't have been able to get in on your own. Believe it or not, we don't just let anyone in." He motioned around the room. "We are a very exclusive club, and this is a very exclusive party. Invite only."

"Yes, it's quite the party. I can't say that I've ever been to anything like it."

"I'm glad to hear that. It is my party, after all," he said, watching me closely.

My eyes widened. "Your party? You throw these kinds of parties?"

"Of course it's mine, sweet Harlow. I throw the best parties. Only someone like me could throw something like this."

If it was meant as a brag, he didn't make it sound like one. It was impressive, even with the sex stuff left out of it. Just like when I'd first arrived, I couldn't help but compare it to the clubs and college parties I'd seen on TV and in movies. Sure, that stuff might've been exaggerated, but I couldn't believe a normal night at the club for a person my age looked anything like this.

"Why such an extravagant party?" I asked. "I mean, you could have just thrown a kegger."

He laughed. "Yes, I guess I could've. But this is a special party for a special occasion."

"Oh, what occasion is that? Your birthday?"

"I'm getting married."

My jaw hit the ground, and I quickly tried to pick it up. Stride was the last person I would expect to be getting married, and that had nothing to do with how little I knew about him. He was not giving off "taken" vibes. In fact, he seemed like a player looking to score.

"Really? Where is she?"

He leaned in. "Would you like to dance?"

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"Come on. Let's dance." He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor.

I dug in the heels of my Chucks into the floor, but I was nothing but a feather against his strength. "No wait, I'm here with someone else."

Whatever happened to Aimes and my drink? I probably should have stuck closer to him.

"I'm sure he won't mind." He hauled me closer, putting his hands on my waist.

I instantly tried to break free. "I don't - "

"It's fine," he said, dragging me back and settling my arms around his neck.

What was with this guy? I ground my teeth together, panic fusing my feet to the floor. I should have never come. I should just go. Right now.

As if sensing my thoughts, he pulled me even closer so that I breathed in his too-spicy smell.

"I have to go," I told him.

"Cool. After this song." He nodded as though my obvious discomfort meant nothing.

My heart jackhammered. I shouldn't be dancing with a guy who was about to be married anyway. What if his fiancée were here and we got into a catfight? I definitely was not a catfight type of girl. I wasn't a dance-with-me-or-else kind of girl either.

Stride brought one of his hands to my face and leaned in closer, and I gasped as his lips touched mine.

Yeah, nope. I pulled away, royally pissed, and slammed down my shoe on the top of his foot as hard as I could.

He didn't even flinch.

"Why the hell would you kiss me if you're getting married?" I demanded.

He shrugged, so casually like this was all a big joke to him. "You're not supposed to be here, Harlow. But now that you are, I'm going to take advantage of the moment."

"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "I was invited, so of course I'm supposed to be here. And you won't be taking advantage of shit. You don't know anything about me."

"What the fuck are you doing, Stride?"

We both turned around to see Aimes standing there with my drink in his hand. I flushed with embarrassment, feeling like I was doing something wrong, even though I knew I wasn't. I hadn't been the one to initiate the kiss, but now that it had happened, I was mortified.

"Aimes," Stride offered with an easy grin. "I just met this amazing girl."

I looked to Stride in surprise.

"Yeah, I can see that," Aimes said with a definite note of irritation. "I told you Harlow was coming tonight. She's the girl I was telling you about, but I'm sure you already knew that."

I looked from one man to the other, thick tension roiling between them.

"I'm sorry, Aimes," I blurted.

He only glanced at me but then went back to ripping into Stride. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Calm down, Aimes," Stride said, smoothing his suit jacket. "I was just playing around. You don't have to take everything so seriously."

Just then, another man approached. He was older than Stride and Aimes, but I couldn't really tell by how much. His blond, slicked-back hair still looked wet. In his tux, he looked kind of like James Bond, someone important, dressed as if he belonged in a casino and not at a celebratory orgy.

His hard, unfriendly eyes flicked to Stride. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Stride said, still looking at Aimes. "I'm just meeting the new girl."

He gazed at me and smiled, but I didn't smile back.

There was some sort of power play going on, and I didn't want any part of it.

The James Bond lookalike put all of his attention on me, studying me like I was small enough to fit under a magnifying glass. He looked me up and down with a sneer, making me feel both uncomfortable and self-conscious at once.

Thanks for that, dick.

He turned back to Stride and grabbed his arm, pulling him away. "Let's go."

Unsure of what had just happened, I turned to Aimes, who was watching the other two men leave. The older man was whispering something into Stride's ear, and he didn't look happy at all.

Aimes looked caught off guard, his body stiff as he slowly turned back to me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, but I didn't think I was. Neither was Aimes.

His whole demeanor had changed. His smile had vanished, and he wasn't looking at me the same way he had before. The sparkle in his bright-blue eyes was gone.

A waitress came by, and he handed her the full glasses before offering me the one I was supposed to drink, then jammed his hands into his pockets. He glanced over at the strange man and Stride again who were heading toward a stage.

Was it his nerves that suddenly made him so standoffish? He was like a completely different guy from the smooth, confident rogue at the bookstore who'd invited me.

"Aimes, what's going on?" I couldn't read his expression.

He looked almost tortured, and I couldn't figure out why. What had transpired between the men that I didn't understand?

He didn't answer.

"I'm going home," I told him, turning to leave.

But two burly men were sliding a thick slab of wood across the exit doors.

Aimes shook his head, his expression grim. "I'm not sure you're going to be able to do that, Harlow."