Another playful night for the record. Let the game begin.
"Have you spotted someone yet?" Leigh, my best friend, asked while I scanned the dim lights of the bar.
I shook my head.
Just like previous nights, the pulse of the sound system and the low hum of chatter dominated the room. The shifting lights on the dance floor made me a bit dizzy, but I was used to it. Strangely, I never grew tired of the vibe. I practically lived in this place—I spent far more time here than at home.
"Patience. Don't get too excited," I answered playfully, turning toward her.
She rolled her eyes and made a face. "Fine. Just call me if you slip out unnoticed. It's packed tonight, so keeping an eye on you is going to be tough. Just call if you get into trouble."
"Will do," I replied nonchalantly, waving her off.
She vanished into the crowd while my eyes drifted back to the dance floor, searching for tonight's playmate.
I was at High Craze, a bar owned by Leigh. I was here almost every night to flirt and fool around with guys—the men I privately referred to as my toys.
Wondering what kind of person I am? People call me a whore, a slut, a bitch, or wild, assuming I sleep with every man I meet. But just because they see me leaving with someone new every night, does that mean I'm having sex with them all? Couldn't it simply be that I enjoy the thrill of the chase?
People are quick to judge. But then again, who am I trying to fool? I laughed inwardly. Who would believe nothing happens behind the closed door of a hotel room? No one, unless they're completely naive. But the truth was, I was just playing a game. I had never actually slept with any of them. I might walk out of the bar on a man's arm and check into a room, but little did they know what really happened inside. If only they knew...
"Now then... who's falling into my trap tonight?" I muttered mischievously, watching the crowd dance, drink, and mingle.
Scenes like this entertained me. Everyone wanted the same thing: to waste money and time, get wasted to forget how much life sucked, and find a prospect to distract them for a few hours. I was no different, though the kind of fun I was looking for was entirely my own.
My focus shifted when someone sat down beside me. I caught the scent of an expensive, distinctly masculine cologne before I even turned my head. Damn, he smells good.
I turned with a smooth smile—and immediately froze.
He was breathtaking. He looked effortlessly cool, biting his lower lip slightly, lost in his own world. He had a two-block haircut, an aquiline nose, sharp eyes, and plush, cherry-red lips. An aura of dangerous innocence radiated off him. He wasn't even trying to seduce anyone; he was simply staring down at the glass in his hand.
This guy is trouble, I thought, my eyes dropping to his frame. His physique screamed perfection. The broad line of his shoulders made me want to reach out and touch him.
I sat up straight and forced myself to compose my expression. Get it together! I was supposed to be the one doing the seducing, yet he hadn't even looked at me and I was already captivated.
My breath hitched when he suddenly turned my way. He stopped biting his lip and scowled.
Wait. Did he just scowl at me? Where's the smile?
"Stop staring, Miss. It's grossing me out," he said, his tone laced with annoyance.
My eyes widened. "Excuse me?" I matched his tone, stung by the insult. Did he seriously just say I was grossing him out?
"You look like you're about to drool. It's irritating."
My jaw dropped. He didn't even flinch as he said it. He was genuinely pissed off.
Wait, am I actually drooling? I discreetly touched the corner of my mouth to check for moisture, relieved to find none.
He was bluffing. My expression hardened. "Don't flatter yourself, Mister. You're not worth salivating over."
It was a complete lie, but I refused to let him know he'd gotten under my skin.
"Then stop staring. You're hot, but I'm not interested."
The nerve! I had never been treated like this before. Men usually swarmed around me without me having to lift a finger. Whenever I showed interest, no guy had ever ignored me—unless he wasn't into women. I was used to arrogant jerks, but this guy was on another level.
My eyes narrowed as one of Leigh's waiters approached us.
No way. I quickly scanned the room for Leigh, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Whenever Leigh approved of my chosen target, she had a waiter bring over a special, spiked drink to set the trap. But I hadn't chosen him yet!
The waiter stopped beside the man, holding out the tray. "Sir, a drink?"
"No!" I cut in sharply. "He already has one. Offer it to someone else." I gave the waiter a subtle glare, silently ordering him to abort, but the jerk beside us was watching both of us closely.
Not this guy! Go away! I flashed a warning look at the waiter, but he missed the cue entirely.
The man beside me furrowed his brows. "Why? Is that one of the house specials? I'll take it."
"No!" I reached out and slapped the waiter's hand, intending to spill the drink, but the waiter's grip was rock solid.
The rude guy raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. I didn't care how weird I looked, as long as he didn't drink it.
"Miss, are you trying to flirt with me? Because that's a pretty cheap tactic."
"What?" Outraged, I stood up from my seat.
He shook his head, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "Am I wrong? I've been in the game a long time, and I know how this works. I'm just not in the mood tonight. But if you really want my attention, you can strip right here and let me judge the view."
Heat rushed to my face at his vulgarity. I was furious. "Pervert!" was all I managed to spit out.
I knew the guys who came here were looking to hook up, but this guy was out of line.
Fine. He wants to play? I'll give him a game.
I watched in silence as he tipped his head back and gulped down the entire glass—the drink meant for my target.
I offered him a sweet, mocking smile. You're going to regret that, asshole.