Page 3 of Catch You

“I’m not on a mission. I’m perfectly happy as?—”

“Nope. You need a man-induced orgasm. End of.”

I know I’ve been a little uptight recently, but it’s not my lack of male attention that’s causing it, and I doubt a night with one will solve the issue.

Brooke must see my shoulders drop, because she takes my hands in hers. “I know you’re worried about her. I am too. But sitting around the house feeling guilty about not being able to do more isn’t going to help. No matter the results, you still have a life. You may as well at least attempt to enjoy yourself.”

“I guess.” I don’t feel all that enthused, but I know she’s right.

“Now, drink this,” she says, handing my glass back to me. “Then let the girls free, and we’re out of here.”

I tip my glass to my lips and swallow what’s left before doing as I’m told. I’m soon following Brooke out of the house to the waiting car. Despite my earlier disinterest, tingles of excitement start to ignite in my belly.

I can’t deny that I look good tonight. I also can’t deny that I’m currently showing more boob than I have to anyone outside the bedroom in too many years to count.

I shake the memories from my head and climb into the car as Brooke begins flirting with the driver. Just because I’m dressed up and showing a little skin, it doesn’t mean I’m going back toa time in my life I’d rather forget. I’m just going out for a night of drinking and dancing with my best friend. It’s exactly what I should be doing. I’m young with no ties; a Friday night out for a colleague’s birthday should be a normal thing to do.

Brooke flashes me a wide smile, and I try to relax.

“Tonight’s going to be great. Reese and Fletch managed to secure the VIP section for us,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

I groan just like I do every time she mentions Fletch.

“Please don’t tell me you’re still scared of being in the same room as him?”

“I’m not scared,” I argue, although I’m not entirely sure that’s true. “I just always make myself look like an idiot any time I’m near him. I turn into a fumbling teenager.” My cheeks heat. I don’t need to tell Brooke this—she’s witnessed my mortifying behavior time and time again when it comes to him. Fletcher Ferguson. My teenage heartthrob, incredible hockey player, and all-around nice guy.

It should be illegal to be that good looking, kind, and generous.

I was obsessed with him in my former years, thanks to discovering a trashy magazine on the coffee table after school one day with him on the cover. No matter how much time has passed, it seems the second I’m in his vicinity, I return to that point in my life when I had no idea how to control my raging hormones.

Or to keep a leash on my mouth.

“Oh, I know. Why do you think I demanded you come? You’re tonight’s entertainment,” she says with a laugh.

“B,” I squeal, swatting her shoulder playfully as she teases me. “I have no idea what’s wrong with me.”

“I get it. He’s … captivating.” Her eyes darken as she relives the one moment of her past that she’ll never let me forget. “And the way he kisses,” she says on a sigh.

“Oh, get over yourself.” I chuckle. “You know full well that he’s forgotten all about that. No woman other than Reese exists for him now.”

“I know. And I still stand by the fact that I rocked his world so much that night that he lost his mind a little after. I mean, why wouldn’t he want more of this?” She gestures to herself with a pout.

“No idea, B. No idea.”

“Well, I’m over it.” Based on how often she brings it up, I beg to differ. “I’ve got my sights set on a British banger tonight.”

I bark out a laugh. “Do you even know what this guy looks like?”

“Only in my imagination.”

“So he could be an old cockney with a beer belly and a bald head?”

“Yes and no. He’s still in his twenties, so I’d like to think he’s at least not bald. Although you never know these days.”

“Still leaves a lot to go wrong, don’t you think?”

“Nah, it’s all good. I can feel it in my blood.”

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