Prologue
What a fucking shit show!
This was by far the worst night of my existence. And it felt as if it would never end, an infinite tunnel of darkness with no light in sight. That was the definition of my life.
Most people cried tears of joy at weddings. My tears were of utter despair. The moment my mother said “I do” to Steven Patterson, Elmwood’s most eligible bachelor, my world ended. Nothing would ever be the same.
I slammed my fourth glass of champagne back, letting the bubbles pop and tickle down my throat. Hell, maybe it was my fifth. Who was counting? I sure wasn’t. Keep the liquor coming. It was the only way I would get through this awful event.
What a damn joke.
My fingers slipped over the glass as I clumsily went to set it down on one of the fancy white-clothed tables.
Crash.
Glass shattered at my feet, and I giggled, a watery little laugh of hysteria that was covered up by the clichéd wedding music blaring through the reception hall.
Oops.
No one noticed.
Story of my life.
“Fuck them all.”
Shit. Did I say that out loud?
Across the table from where I stood, a dark brow lifted. I guess I had spoken out loud. A small lopsided smirk tugged at the corners of a sensual month that would be so easy to get hung up on. I dragged my eyes from those luscious lips to take in the rest of the face. And what a fucking face. This guy had the kind of looks poets wrote about and girls drooled over in romance books. His dark hair had a slight curl to it, purposely styled messily like he’d just gotten off a motorcycle. He was striking.
Sculpted cheekbones.
Full, kissable lips.
A sharp jawline I wanted to trail the tip of a fingernail over.
But it was the eyes that hit me straight in the gut with a punch of unexpected desire.
Nothing prepared me for the piercing color of his eyes. It was like looking into an infinite tropical ocean, such sparkling aqua. I felt myself drowning in them, all the noise in my head fading.
Holy hell.
My breath caught with the full effect of him. God, was he hot, in an intimidating way that made me bite my lip. His white shirt stretched across his firm chest, unbuttoned at the top where his tie hung loosened around his neck. The urge to grab him by the tie and pull him to me inundated me. That was the champagne talking. The bubbly liquor went straight to my head… and apparently other parts of my body too.
What was it about this guy that drew me? Perhaps it was the wicked smirk on his lips as he lifted his glass of champagne to his mouth, but I wanted him.
Right now. On the table.
A quick vision of sweeping the cloth off the table, glasses and half-eaten cake scattering over the floor, flashed through my head.
Aggressiveness wasn’t one of my usual personality traits, but again, it was the champagne. And this horrible night that had me all twisted up and out of sorts. I didn’t feel like myself.
So why the hell should I act like me?
For a single night, I wanted to pretend I was the type of girl who was reckless, sexy, demanding, and who didn’t give a damn about anything. Morals? I didn’t have them. Not at this moment.
Besides, anything I could do to ruin my mother’s night the way she ruined my life, I was up for. Assuming my toast earlier in the night hadn’t already made wedding history.Cheers, Mom. Hope you and sugar daddy rot in hell.
Without thinking, I grabbed Dreamy Eyes’s hand and mumbled, “Let’s dance.” I didn’t wait for a response, and I didn’t care who he was, only that he was willing. My lips curled as he went with me, a soft chuckle caressing my ears behind me. I turned around, finding him taller than I had initially thought, and I craned my neck back to meet those startling eyes. Again, a bolt of desire struck me. This guy was too damn attractive for his own good, and the way he carried himself with such arrogant confidence, he damn well knew it. A characteristic I normally found irritating, but on him it was alluring.