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She doesn’t look at me for too long, the awkwardness between us always present now. We both want to talk about that night. It hangs over us with so much darkness, but neither of us has the courage to come out and say something.

“Tay…” I plead, not even sure why.

“I saved your ass with the shots.”

She stares out at the dance floor, a fake smile plastered on her face, while her real emotions stay with me.

Shit, I totally forgot about the shots.

“I’ll pay you back. I’m so sorry. Where is everyone?”

“Dancing,” she says dryly.

Her head nudges toward the floor, and my eyes follow. The rest of our group sways back and forth with their hands in the air, careless as ever.

Taylor and I are the only two dancers who haven’t toured before. The new girls. And before my personal life went up in flames, we were in this together. We’d planned and were excited to do this together.

Until it got fucked up.

“Thanks for helping me out,” I finally say.

With a nod, she shifts in her heels, her discomfort obvious in my presence, and it kills me.

“I think I’m going to get a rideshare back to the hotel. Will you be good here?” I ask, ignoring the tart reminder that I should’ve asked her this same question the night of the party.

When she finally looks at me, it’s reserved. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Before I trudge through the thick crowd, I stop at the bar to order a shot for myself. A visceral need for liquid courage to drown my feelings and decisions.

As I sit, the bartender settles his attention on me immediately.

“What can I get you, love?” he flirts, and I do the same with a smile.

“Just a shot of tequila, please. Reposado.”

“Chilled?”

“Please.” I smile, surveying the bar.

At the other end, my eyes go right to him. Of course Jett’s still here.

His buzz cut and burly stature stick out amongst the flock of women around him. The women he’s letting touch him. As one runs a finger down the front of his chest, prickling irritation makes me shiver.

“Can you actually make that a double?” I ask the bartender, scooting as close as I can, my small breasts sitting perfectly on the bar top to show just the amount of cleavage.

“Of course.” Lust coats his tone as his eyes flick down to my chest before meeting my gaze again.

Edgy looking with dark, shaggy hair, he’s more eclectic than what I’d normally go for, but I can work with it. He gives me a wanton stare as he doubles my shot.

If Jett wants to play, then let’s play.

He’s not the only one who can get whatever the fuck they want around here.

“Here’s some salt and a lime if that’s your thing.”

The shot, salt, and lime are all placed on a napkin in front of me. I lick the crevice between my thumb and pointer finger, dousing it in salt.

When I wink at the bartender, he grabs his chest and gasps, like he’s shocked my wink was directed at him, and it sets the perfect stage.