Boy meets girl, boy wins girl, boy nails girl—boy’s gone by morning.

I think for sure it must've been a dream because there’s no way a guy could look like that, touch me like that and be so in tune with me on every known level, and disappear, leaving me with nothing but a good story to tell my friends.

When he walks into my bar three months later, everything I thought I knew and what we’d had disappears in the blink of an eye and the blinding light of the three-carat diamond on his fiancée's hand.

It seems what I thought was a dream is now my most complicated reality, and I've got absolutely no idea how to fix it - or if I even want to.

Present Day

I have tingles, and not the kind that feel great in all the right places. The ones I’m feeling right now are the hair-standing-up-on-the-back-of-your-neck, someone-walking-over-your-grave kind of feelings that you get when something bad is about to happen.

Unable to ignore them any longer, I turn around from my stock take sheet and come face to face with my worst nightmare.

Lana fucking Mason, childhood best friend turned high school nemesis and arch enemy, and…

A man stands beside her, his eyes as wide as mine and—if I’m not mistaken—he looks kind of pissed off. At me.

And just like that, this moment has just gone from bad to worse.

Hold on! I’m the one who should be annoyed, with him. It wasn’t me who did a disappearing act three months ago, and now he’s here, standing with her. Of all the fish in the sea, he had to go for the smelliest, rottenest one.

“Kenzie,” she says, all saccharine sweet, like she wouldn’t choke on the first dick that came close to her perfectly-made-up lips. “Long time no see.”

Forever wouldn’t have been long enough, Lana.

“We were in town running errands and thought we’d stop by. I wanted to let you know what I’ve been up to.” Without preamble, she holds out her hand as if she’s the Queen of Sheba and I’m a lowly minion at her bidding. But that’s the last thing I care about, given that I’m being blinded by a huge, shiny rock on her ring finger.

What in the ever-loving fuck?

I don’t get a chance to hide my surprise, or the fact that my eyes dart to Millen, his jaw twitching like crazy, his grey eyes that I remember turning molten with lust now blazing with some unreadable emotion.

Why is he angry at me when he must’ve known that I’d be here?

Lana turns her head and beams at him all doe-eyed and vomit-inducing, reaching out her arm to Millen before returning her attention to me, positioning herself to deliver the final death blow.

Then she says them. The words I don’t want to hear—let alone believe.

“I have amazing news. First, my daddy just bought this place. And second, meet Millen, my fiancé…”

Yep. Dead. Done. The see-ya-later, don’t-let-the-door-hit-your-ass-on-the-way-out kind of done.

Then Drew walks through the front door. Drew who warms my bed most nights. Finally, a friendly face.

However, one look at Lana’s expression and I know this moment has just gone from bad to plain awkward. It’s like the universe is making a joke at my expense.

Drew’s already big smile grows impossibly larger when he spots the two people standing in front of me.

“Mills!” he says, pulling Millen into a man-hug the likes of which I’ve never seen Drew hand out before. He turns to the she-bitch and wraps his arms around her too. “Lans.”

Lans?

“What are you guys doing here?” Drew asks.

“You know them?” I blurt out, my brain unable to engage quick enough to care about putting a filter in place.

Millen’s eyes snap to Drew then back to me. “You know Drew?” he asks at the same time as Lana juts a hip to the side and asks Drew, “You know Kenzie?”

“Millen is my best friend from college,” Drew happily informs me, and his smile falls at the same time that all of the blood rushes from my face.

Awkward, meet Mortifying. Also here are Shame, Embarrassment, Anger, Disgust, and over in the corner there is Complete and Utter Confusion and her friend I’m Going to Have to Move to the States and Join a Women-Only Commune with Cats and Unlimited Batteries.

With nothing else to say—at least, nothing that wouldn’t take a bottle of Jack and a whole lot of time—I decide to just go with the flow and revert to my old trusty auto-pilot because seriously, what else is there for me to do?

“Soooo, would anyone like a drink?”

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Boy meets girl, boy wins girl, boy nails girl—boy’s gone by morning.

I think for sure it must've been a dream because there’s no way a guy could look like that, touch me like that and be so in tune with me on every known level, and disappear, leaving me with nothing but a good story to tell my friends.

When he walks into my bar three months later, everything I thought I knew and what we’d had disappears in the blink of an eye and the blinding light of the three-carat diamond on his fiancée's hand.

It seems what I thought was a dream is now my most complicated reality, and I've got absolutely no idea how to fix it - or if I even want to.

I rush out from behind the bar and through the swinging door. I’m almost at the end of the corridor when the door opens behind me and I freeze. My chest tightens, because if it’s either of the two men I think it could be, there’s no way this will end well.

He comes closer, each step like an echo matching the impending doom I feel in my gut.

“I got your message.”

“Good,” I reply, fighting every urge I have to turn toward him.

“And you were right. You do deserve better.”

“I do.”

“I hate the thought of him touching you.”

I gasp, my mouth dropping open at his admission.

“I've known him for thirteen years. He's supposed to be my best man. I love him like a brother but I hate him touching you.”

Oh no he didn’t. I spin around and come face to face with Millen, his face tight, his arms crossed over his chest. “What?” I spit out.

“It's not right. I love him like a brother and I want him happy. Just not happy with you. Especially not happy touching you.”

“How dare you?” I grind out, my jaw so rigid my face hurts.

“I hate seeing you with anyone that's not me.”

My eyes bug out, completely dumbfounded. He’s crazy if he thinks he has any say in who I see.

“You’re a joke,” I spit out, the blood simmering in my veins now boiling over. Lifting my hand up, I poke my finger hard into his chest. “You're the one with the problem. It’s was you who came up to me. You that lied and said you were single.” My voice threatens to break but I power through it. “You made me become the one thing I never wanted to be—the other woman. And to her. You’re such a fucking ass—”

The rest of the word gets stuck in my throat when he wraps his hand around my neck and crashes his mouth into mine. His body crushes me into the wall as he kisses the shit out of me. And—dammit—it's a good kiss—a scorching-hot, never-to-be-the-same-again kiss.

I tear my lips free and shove him back. I step forward, and my hand darts up. With a resounding crack, I slap him across the face. I try again but before I can make contact he catches me, swings my arm behind my back, pins me in place and kisses me again. I fight him off for a second before giving in. My anger melts away as he tastes me, his tongue plundering my mouth. I grip his hair with my free hand, pulling the strands tight, his guttural groan vibrating through me, setting my entire body on fire.

His hips grind against mine and all of the memories from three months ago come flooding back. The way he took control, the way he played my body as if he'd known me years not hours, and how I thought that night might have been the start of something different, something life-changing.

I match his kiss stroke for stroke, the air sparking with the sheer heat between us. I know in the back of my mind that this will be the last time I kiss him, and I want to take my fill.

A throat clearing breaks our lust-fueled haze, snapping us back into reality.

Millen steps back like a caught schoolboy, both of us turning to find Drew at the entry to the hall, his eyes blazing. We stand there in silence, our labored breathing audible over the quiet hum of the music in the bar.

“Drew,” I whisper.

He cuts his narrowed glare from his best friend to me. “Dinah asked me to come get you.” His voice cuts through me, his tone cold as ice.

“Drew, I—”

“A big group just came in and the girls are getting slammed,” he says, his jaw set tight.

I move toward him. “It's not—”

He shakes his head, opening his mouth to say something, but he slices his gaze through Millen and stops on me. “I’m going, but you,” he says, pinning Millen with a cold stare, “you should get back to your fiancée. You know, the woman you should be kissing.” With that, he turns and slaps his palm against the door, swinging it open and stalking out without another word.

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