The walk home from work tonight seems to take forever. I’m exhausted after another grueling week between work and school. What is it about Fridays that seem to drag on? Probably because I’m forced to endure Brad, my pervy boss, all day. Classes are only three days a week, so I get the privilege of working in the office all day on Wednesdays and Fridays.

I’m relieved to be walking in my front door and am instantly greeted by Ebony, the black Persian cat we adopted, weaving around my legs. She was given up because she was too affectionate. Who does that?

“Hey, how was work today?” Cici asks from the kitchen. I can see she’s already opening a bottle of wine.

My best friend, Cici, graciously lets me share her apartment for way less than what I should be paying. Rentals around Balboa Park aren’t cheap, but Cici’s family owns the building, so it affords more generosity. It was a battle getting her to accept even the little I do pay. With her knowledge of my crazy past and her family taking me in when my dad abandoned me at fifteen, her empathy runs deep and charity over the top.

Setting my stuff down, I pick up Ebony. “Oh, thrilling as always. I don’t know why I haven’t started looking for something else yet.”

“If I hear you say that one more time before you do it, I’ll start sending out résumés for you. What happened today?” Cici hands me my wine while I sit down at the breakfast bar and situate Ebony on my lap.

 “You know how I’ve told you Brad is weird sometimes? He had me work in his office today instead of the reception area because he said he needed me to take notes for him, which I barely even did. It was so uncomfortable. Not only did I run out of work but I couldn’t start on my homework like normal because he was sitting right there watching me. Ugh, it gave me the creeps.”

She points her finger at me and begins her lecture. “Lily, I’m telling you now, something’s wrong with that prick. You’ve had this feeling for too long to ignore anymore. At least start looking at what else is out there. Why don’t you do that when you get bored instead of homework next time?”

I take a big sip before answering. “I can’t look for a new job at my current job, Cici. He could catch me, and I can’t afford to get fired.”

“You know I have your back no matter what. If it’s a matter of your safety, I’ll cover you anytime.”

I shake my head. “I won’t do that. Thanks to you and your family, I’ve supported myself this long. I’m not taking any more help than I’ve already had to. Anyway, all I need to do is get through the next few months, and I’m on my way to better things. Once I graduate, I’ll be able to get my foot in the door at a bigger, more prestigious marketing firm and finally start making enough money to do more than get by.”

She slams her hand down on the counter. “Ugh, it’s so frustrating that you have no support in situations like this. Your loser dad will never step up, so let me be your family, and if you need help, that’s what family’s for.”

“I know and thank you. That means a lot. Now, no more about me. How was your day?” Cici will push and push until I give in. I’ve become an expert at redirecting.

“Wait until you hear this. I found out that Layla broke up with Braden! I finally have a chance at him!” She squeals and claps her hands.

I laugh and give her a high five. “Well, if there’s anyone who can make him forget about his girlfriend of, what, three years? It would be you.”

Cici is the classic California girl with thick long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and a fantastic body thanks to the gym. She’s also the most genuine person on the planet. The only reason no one has snatched her up yet is because she’s as picky as they come and doesn’t have a monogamous bone in her body. I’m the opposite, with my auburn hair, olive skin and wide hazel eyes. Boring and basic, but attractive in the girl next door kind of way. At least I have a decent body thanks to my lack of a car and budget. I walk to everything within a couple of miles and run whenever I can find the time. My diet consists of basic home-cooked meals with no room for indulgences unless Cici’s buying.

The biggest difference between us is my experience with men. The closest thing I’ve had to a boyfriend was a kiss in the closet in fifth grade. Okay, that’s exaggerating, but not by much. There just hasn’t been time since being on my own at fifteen and having to work my butt off ever since. It doesn’t leave much time for dating. I’ve gotten so good at putting off the not interested vibe that my approachability level has become nonexistent. Not to mention, the only two guys I’ve kissed since the closet incident left me with no desire to work on that issue.

“To celebrate my new pursuit, I’ve decided we’re heading out to a new dance club that’s all the rage, and it sounds like you need it after the day you had.” She raises her glass to clink with mine.

Instead, I leave her hanging. “Oh, Cici, I don’t think I’m up for it. You know I’m not very fun at those places, and I’ll end up holding you back more than anything.” She rolls her eyes at me and takes a drink. I can already tell her mind is made up; there’s no way I’m winning this argument. She’s too damn good at persuasion when she digs her heels in.

Pouring more wine into our glasses, she gives me her speech. “Listen, Lily, you need to get out more. It won’t kill you to let loose for one night. You know, one of these days, you need to lose your V-card or at least explore a little further than a make-out session with someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing. Then you’ll see what all the fuss is about. That won’t happen if you stay home all the time and don’t put yourself out there. Let’s go for it tonight, get tipsy and see what happens.”

“I am not going to get drunk and have—”

She holds her hand up, palm facing me. “I’m not saying you should give it up tonight. I know you better than that. I’m just suggesting you loosen up and be open to the possibility of more. Someone’s out there for you, but you need to give them a chance. Regardless, you deserve to have fun now and then, so get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.” She sticks her tongue out and walks off with her wine.

An hour later, I’m putting my glass away when Cici walks in and stops dead in her tracks. “Whoa, you are not going out to the hottest club in San Diego dressed like you’re going to the office. Follow me.” She turns around without another word, leaving me staring down at myself.

How are black slacks and a nice tank top considered going to the office? Okay, I can see her point on the slacks, but I would only wear this tank with a jacket to work. Most importantly, I put wedges on instead of flats. These are way different from my work shoes. Sighing, I tread down the hallway to her room.

“I think it’s fine. I don’t want to give the wrong message anyway.” Cici’s already standing in her closet and tossing things onto the bed. I can see from here there’s nothing I’m comfortable with. Luckily, we’re similar in size other than my average chest in comparison to her voluptuous one. Most of her clothes fit me, but that doesn’t mean I’d wear most of them. Everything in her overflowing closet is trendy and expensive thanks to her trust fund, but her style and mine are like our looks, night and day. However, I do borrow something for an event now and then since nice dresses are out of my budget.

She scowls at me. “Lily, stop it. Just because you dress hot doesn’t mean you have to screw anyone. It just makes guys notice you more, and that’s step one to meeting the man of your dreams. You have to stop hiding behind your wardrobe. You’re gorgeous and you need to own it. What are you afraid of?”

Instead of answering, I go through the stack of clothes, pick two reasonable options and hold them up. Of course, she grabs two more and pulls me into the adjoining bathroom.

“Come on, you’re trying all four, and then I’m giving you a smoky eye. Lily is coming out to play!” She winks at me as I groan.

Thirty minutes later, we’re pulling up in the Uber, and I must admit, I’m feeling pretty damn sexy with the final look from my stylist for the evening. Exiting onto the sidewalk, I head toward the end of the line, but Cici grabs my arm and pulls me to the VIP entrance. She gives the bouncer our names. He lifts his clipboard to check the list and steps aside, motioning us in. The club is already packed. Opposite the dance floor, there’s a bar the length of the building. Separating them is an enormous staircase lit with in-floor blue lighting leading to the second level, where a balcony looms over the lower level. The club is dark, with just enough strobes and motion lighting to see throughout. The music is pumping, and it already feels stuffy. It’s going to be a long night.

I lean in to Cici. “How did you get us on the list?”

“My brother knows one of the owners, and he got a table for all of us tonight. I forgot to tell you that Jackson and Braden are meeting us here. Oh look, there they are.” She points up to the balcony, where you can see the tables through the glass railing.

There he is. Jackson Soloman. The one guy I can’t seem to keep from thinking about, wishing I was good enough for. I’ve been in love with him since Cici and I became friends during freshman year of high school and I went over to her house for the first time. It was an instant crush. Her older brother by three years, and the hottest boy I had ever seen. If there’s one guy who makes me want to do more than make out, it’s him. The problem is, I don’t think he’s ever considered me as anything other than his little sister’s annoying friend. Why are they even joining us anyway?

Cici starts climbing the stairs, and I pull her arm to stop her. “Why are they here? We never go out together.”

“Well, I wanted to get us into the club without waiting in a line we might never get through, and voilà, here we are. I begged Jackson to get us on the VIP list with his connection, and luckily for me he made joining us a condition. Like I’d say no to spending time with Braden, duh. Now come on, let’s have some fun.” She resumes up the stairs, giving me no choice but to follow.

We walk to where Jackson and Braden are sitting, drinks already on the table with a bottle on ice. Jackson looks amazing, and instantly my insecurities come out in full force. “Hey, ladies, looking good!” Braden says, looking us up and down as we take our seats. “Anyone ready to join me in getting shit-faced tonight and drowning our sorrows?” He lifts his drink in salute and takes a big gulp.

“You’ll have to excuse Braden. He’s on a mission to forget ‘she who must not be named,’ and alcohol is the poison of choice,” Jackson explains, looking at Braden with concern. “It’s why we came tonight.” Well, that explains that.

“I can’t join you in drowning sorrows, Braden, but I’ll join you in getting hammered,” Cici happily agrees. I know how excited she is that he’s finally free of Layla, but I hope she’s not setting herself up for disappointment. “What are you guys drinking tonight?” she asks.

“Only the best for a breakup—tequila, tonic and lime. Would you ladies care for one?” He lifts the bottle from the ice, ready to fill two more glasses.

Cici pushes her glass toward him as I shake my head. “No thanks. I’ll start with prosecco.” Thank goodness Cici told me the drinks are on them tonight. Otherwise, I’d be stuck with cheap beer.

Jackson waves the waitress over, and I order while Braden makes Cici her drink. “Hey, Jackson, thanks for getting us in tonight. That was nice of you.” I’m awkwardly trying to pull the dress down past my upper thigh. Cici insisted I wear this short, dark blue, curve-hugging dress, telling me, “It makes your chest pop and your legs go on forever.” She’s full of it, but sometimes you have to agree to get her mouth to stop moving.

“This one”—Jackson pats Cici on the head—“was relentless. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and said it was the only thing she would ask of me until next year.”

“No way! Cici wouldn’t accept no? I find that so hard to believe!” I say sarcastically, putting my hand over my chest.

“Yep, you know Cici—when she wants something, she gets it. If only we could all be like that.” He contemplates for a moment before he slaps Braden on the back. “It happened to be perfect timing since someone here needed a bit of a distraction.”

“Dude, this is great. Look at that dance floor and all it has to offer. If this can’t cure a broken heart, I don’t know what will. Thanks for getting us out tonight, Cici. I, for one, am grateful. Cheers!” Braden holds his glass up, and we all follow, toasting to Cici. She’s blushing like crazy of course. Good for her that she has her chance. Maybe one day I’ll get mine.

“Who’s ready to join me on the dance floor?” Braden asks right after we all take a sip. This level has another dance floor, so we don’t have to go far.

“Oh, me for sure! Come on, Lily, let’s go.” Cici tugs my arm as she gets up. Pulling out of her grasp, I quickly down my glass of prosecco, then rush to catch up.

It’s packed. Everybody is glistening with sweat and bumping into one another. I try my best to keep from touching anyone and stay within our small circle, but soon Braden has two girls surrounding him, separating us, and Cici has a couple of guys vying for her attention as well. Suddenly, I feel someone behind me, and I turn around to see a guy smiling, tilting his head in question. I smile back shyly, reminding myself what Cici said. Just because I put myself out there doesn’t mean I have to sleep with anyone. I dance with a few inches between us for a while, but he’s slowly closing the distance. The guy is good-looking and smells great, but he isn’t the one I want to be with. This is the problem being here with Jackson—he’s all I think about. Ugh.

Suddenly, Mr. Smooth Move’s hands are on either side of my hips, holding me close. I can feel his package against my stomach. Gross. I try to pull back a bit, but he’s holding me tight. He leans his head toward my neck, and I push him, forcing him to release me. After breaking free, I decide to leave the dance floor for another drink. Cici seems happy with both guys grinding on her, so I leave her alone.

I return to the table and find Jackson talking with a beautiful blonde. It doesn’t surprise me; there’s never a shortage of gorgeous women throwing themselves at him, and he’s usually not batting them away. Jackson is dreamy with his bodyguard physique. He’s worked hard in the gym habitually since his high school football days. He also inherited the family genes of blond hair, blue eyes and a face that makes you want to stare at it for days—something I had to train myself not to do early on. He’s a model for all women’s wet dreams.

I notice a full glass of prosecco waiting for me in place of my empty one. “Thanks for the drink,” I say, taking a large sip.

“Sure, figured you may need it after fending off that jackass out there.” He motions behind me, and I turn to see he has a perfect view of the dance floor. I notice Cici is still going strong, but I swear it’s two different guys now.

I turn back. “It was fine. He just got a little ahead of himself. I don’t know why guys always assume anything goes on the dance floor.” Although, judging by the girl hanging on Jackson’s every word with obvious lust, the assumptions probably aren’t far off.

“Well, I’m in an anything-goes kind of mood if you’d like to join me out there…,” Blondie says seductively while pouting up at Jackson, proving my thoughts correct.

“Not yet, babe. I’m here as moral support for my buddy and might need to carry him out later. Here he comes now,” he says, looking behind me.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Come find me if you change your mind,” Bombshell purrs before she kisses Jackson on the cheek and saunters off, blatantly strutting her ass. Ugh, I’m internally rolling my eyes.

Cici joins us at the same time Braden makes it back. “Why did you come back to the table? It’s not as fun out there without you.” She pouts.

“It looked like you were having plenty of fun from what I saw, so don’t even try to guilt trip me. I left ’cause some prick started getting too handsy. Perfect timing to get another drink anyway.” I show her my glass and take another sip.

Cici doesn’t let me off that easily. “The guy dancing with you looked pretty cute. Maybe you should’ve let him be a little handsy or at least had him buy you a drink,” she says, wagging her eyebrows.

“Luckily, Jackson already had another one waiting. Besides, there’s no way I’m letting some creep put his hands all over me just because we’re dancing. He didn’t even ask my name,” I say incredulously.

Braden, who’s succeeded in drinking enough to forget his problems, decides to chime in about mine. “That’s not how it works out there, babe—names are for later. I think little virgin Lily is just scared to get her feet wet. Maybe you should give it another shot. Cici can show you how it’s done.” The shock on my face is apparent. It’s not a secret that my virgin status is well-known among everyone present, but that’s just a low blow, and what makes it even worse is Jackson practically spits his beer out laughing. Great, just great.

 “I guess there’s no shortage of pricks here tonight,” I rant, looking at Braden and Jackson.

Deciding I’ve had enough fun for one night, I lean in to hug my best friend. “You know what, I think I’m just going to head out. I’m tired after this week. You stay and enjoy yourself, and I’ll text you when I make it home.” I quickly turn around, grab my purse and run down the stairs before Cici can protest.

I’m halfway down when I hit a wall. A solid, warm wall that smells dreadfully sinful. Before I have time to process, two firm hands are on my shoulders to steady me. “Hey, watch where you’re going” comes the deepest, sexiest voice imaginable, which would be incredibly hot if the words spoken were anything other than rude and demanding. Looking up, which is crazy, considering I’m one step higher, I freeze as my eyes land on a dark, handsome god of a man who looks like he wants to commit murder. What is it with me and jerks tonight?

His eyes get bigger, and his brows furrow as soon as my shocked gaze meets his. He has short black hair that’s longer on the top and styled perfectly. His menacing eyebrows are folded downward from scowling at me. The dark scruff that shadows his face is so sexy, trimmed razor straight, accentuating his perfectly chiseled jaw. Mentally slapping myself, I apologize.

“Crap, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He doesn’t release his hold.

“That’s because your head was down. Your eyes should be looking forward.” His voice is hard and demanding.

Flustered and—I reluctantly admit—slightly turned on by his strong, firm grip and penetrating stare, I stand there frozen in place. After what seems like minutes but I’m sure is only seconds, I snap out of it and apologize again. “Sorry, I’ll watch where I’m going from now on.” The words rush out as I pull away to leave, this time keeping my head up. I think I hear him say something else behind me, but I don’t stop. Running into one of the hottest guys I’ve seen in a while should’ve been the highlight of my night. Instead, I’m more irritated. Do all good-looking men have a license to be an ass, or what?

Once I’m outside the club, I decide to take the bus. An Uber alone is too expensive and an indulgence I don’t need. Luckily, it’s perfect timing; the rain has let up, and my app says it’s only a few blocks to the stop and five minutes until it arrives. Friday night in downtown San Diego is busy, so I’m not worried about being alone, but just to be safe, I have my phone ready to push the emergency button because you never know. Once I reach the bus stop, I sit on the empty bench, and suddenly, a nervousness creeps over me, accompanied by a feeling of being watched. My instincts tell me to do what any intelligent person would do. I look down at my phone, then bring it to my ear to answer an imaginary call. Because who can kidnap you when you’re talking with someone on the phone, right? I’m relieved to see the bus pulling up a few seconds later and quickly rise to hop on.

Arriving home safe and sound, I text Cici good night, get ready for bed and finally crawl under the covers with Ebony snuggled up to me. My mind immediately starts reflecting on the night. God, I’m honestly so sick of being a virgin. It never fails to come up. I’m sick of guys being pricks too. Sometimes I wish I could meet someone who finally does it for me other than Jackson. And what was with that jerk on the way out? That’s the problem with gorgeous men. They’re pompous, domineering bastards who think women will drop their panties and do anything they want. I close my eyes and try to focus my mind on positive things. After what seems like forever tossing and turning, trying to wrangle my thoughts, sleep finally overcomes me.

***

Waking up Saturday morning, I’m just as irritated as the night before and decide my positive thinking didn’t do me any good. But a good cup of coffee may do the trick. I don’t usually indulge in morning lattes, but I think I deserve it after enduring the crap from yesterday and last night. I throw on joggers and a shirt, put my hair in a messy bun and head out the door. My favorite coffee spot is only a few blocks away. No Starbucks for this girl. One, it’s ridiculously priced, and two, I don’t like their coffee. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about unless you want insanely sweet, fattening drinks that come in a size no ordinary human being should be consuming. Nope, a regular nonfat latte will do while supporting a local business.

The elevator doors open into the lobby, where Jackson is waiting to get on. Great, just what I needed. “Good morning,” I say as I step out. Jackson also lives in the building because why wouldn’t he? Their family owns a ton of real estate in San Diego, but this is their best residential building.

He holds the door open and faces me. “Morning, Lils. Hey, sorry about last night. Braden was drunk and acting like an ass. He didn’t mean any harm, and I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“Yeah, well, I should be used to the teasing by now, but sometimes it gets old. Thanks for apologizing, though. So… are you just getting home? Must’ve been quite the night.” Shit, I’m cringing inside. Why did I even ask that? It’s obvious since he’s wearing the same clothes from last night. Apparently, I like punishing myself.

He looks at me sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

“Well, good for you then. See you later, Jackson.” I wave goodbye, turn around and walk outside. Wow, if that isn’t the writing on the wall. I need to get over him in a bad way.

The sun is finally shining after three days of rain, and it’s a balmy sixty degrees this morning. Nice enough to enjoy the walk down the street, and after a couple of blocks, I’m starting to feel better. A little vitamin D goes a long way. I get my coffee and start the trek back, soaking up the sun.

Walking in, I see Cici making her own cup of coffee. “Sorry, Cici, I didn’t expect to see you up until this afternoon, or I would have grabbed you something.”

“That’s okay. It ended up being a way earlier night than expected since someone decided to get blackout drunk so early. I left with Jackson to help wrangle Braden into the Uber. I don’t know why he’s so upset about this breakup; she was such a bitch.”

“Well, three years is a long time no matter what. And yeah, he was wasted all right. I can’t believe he had the nerve to call me out and be a jerk about it.” My anger returns in full force.

“You know people say things they don’t mean when they’re drunk. It was a dick move though. I bet he’ll apologize today if he even remembers it. How was your Uber ride home?” she asks.

I look down at my coffee guiltily. “I ended up taking the bus. The stop was just a couple blocks down, and the bus wasn’t far away. It all worked out,” I spit out quickly, already seeing the look of disapproval on her face.

“Lily! You know that’s not a good idea at night by yourself. I could’ve ordered your Uber from my phone, silly. No wonder it took so long to hear you made it home. Jackson was driving me crazy, asking every five minutes if I got your text.”

“That’s weird. Why would he care? I figured he didn’t even notice I left.” I’m shocked he even gave me a second thought. And this is my problem—I hear one thing about Jackson, and I’m hooked.

“You know him, he’s a worrywart, always thinking the worst. And of course he noticed. You’re my best friend and important to me. So, what are you doing today and the rest of the weekend?” she asks.

“Right now, a run to clear my head. Then I’m staying in until I get my final project done that’s due this week. It’s 80 percent of my grade, and even though I’ve pretty much nailed it, I want to add some finishing touches. And most importantly, I need to catch up on my sleep.” Story of my life.