"He looked good."
"But you already knew he would, based on the magazine, right?"
"Yeah, but he looked better in person. He's matured. Filled out in all the right places. And that jawline of scruff. Holy shit."
"Did you talk?"
"It was kind of a disaster. He walked in, saw me, said What the fuck? to Keatyn, and hid in the kitchen."
"Oh, that's not the kind of reaction you want."
"No, not at all. Keatyn went to talk to him. Then she came out and told me to go talk to him."
"Awkward, much?"
"Yeah. But we didn't talk."
"What did you do?"
"We made out."
"You, what? How? Why?"
"I don't know. He said it didn't mean anything but it did. It was the hottest kiss of my life. He pushed me up against the wet bar, slid his hands up my skirt. I would have done him right then and there."
"But you're married."
"Yeah, I'm married."
"You going to fix that?"
"Yes. I want a divorce."
"Based on what you told me about Collin, I would agree with you. And that's saying a lot. I loved the two of you together in college. I even stood up for you at your wedding."
"I know."
"You're lucky you don't have kids with him."
"I didn't want to get pregnant. He kept pushing for it. He's been pushing for it since we got married. I mean, sex with him was one thing. A baby, well that's a lot bigger commitment. I couldn't risk tying myself to him for the rest of my life in that way."
"So, you've known for a while?"
"I knew at my wedding, Sarah."
"What?!"
"It's true. I told my dad I didn't want to marry Collin. Well, that's not right. I told him I didn't love Collin the way I loved Riley."
"What did he say?"
"That I was being ridiculous. That it was just cold feet. That we'd been together for so long. That the family loved him. All very logical things."
"I was your maid of honor. You should have told me."
"I know. It's really not Collin's fault our marriage is failing. It's mostly mine. I never loved him the way I should have."
An hour later, we're finally in the packed club. We immediately head to the bar and order a round of shots.
"Tonight we forget about our lives for a few hours and just dance," Sarah says, clinking her shot glass into mine. "Let's get out there!"
We work our way out to the crowded dance floor and it's not long before a cute guy is dancing with me.
His hands are touching my ass and I don't care.
It's just dancing.
It's fun.
The place is full of energy and I feel alive.
The guy yells into my ear, "Can I buy you a drink?"
I'm about to say yes, when I see quick movement out of the corner of my eye.
It's Riley.
He grabs the guy and tells him to get off me. The guy is coming back, ready to punch him, but Riley raises a finger in the air and bouncers collect my former dance partner and escort him off the dance floor.
It's really kinda hot.
But then he wraps me in his arms like he used to and kisses the top of my head. It's a sweet gesture.
One that makes me want to start crying.
But then he gives me a naughty smirk and puts his hands all over my ass. I do the same while pulling him into my body and grinding against his leg. I'm trying like hell to grind against his dick and make him hard like he was when we kissed earlier tonight.
He smells like expensive cologne and alcohol.
And this reminds me of nights spent dancing after curfew.
We dance the night away. Although, I'm not sure this should be categorized as dancing.
It's more like foreplay set to music.
I'm all worked up, barely able to control how much I want him.
This so wasn't my plan.
I was going to talk to him first.
See if we could become friends again.
Then, maybe, we could be something more.
When he squeezes my ass, I care less about my plan.
I just want him.
I move my lips toward his and he full on attacks my mouth.
Grabs my neck and forces me to keep kissing him.
Like I'd ever try to stop.
Our kisses are ravenous, hungry. I've been starving for him all this time.
"I'm taking you home with me now," he commands.
And I don't dare say a word, for fear he might change his mind.
I just nod yes.
He grabs my friend, hands her off to Knox--as in the hot movie star, Knox freaking Daniels--and tells him to make sure she gets home safely. Then he wraps his arm around my waist and staggers out to the valet.
"Are you drunk?"
"Just a little," he says. He used to say the same thing when I'd ask him if he loved me. He'd give me that handsome smile and say, Just a little even though he meant a lot.
"I'm driving then."
"Whatever, as long as we get there," he says, as a sleek black luxury sedan pulls in front of us.
He tips the valet a hundred and tells him I'm driving.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson. Good to see you again."
Riley slides in the passenger seat, presses the home button on the GPS, and says, "She'll tell you where to go. I'll be too busy."
"Too busy doing what?" I ask as I pull out of the parking lot.
