He’d been friends with Flynn, Sabrina and Reid—who wasn’t in the country at the moment—since college. Sabrina being in the mix was nothing new. Her being in love with Flynn and vice versa: totally new.

Gage had said yes to the after-work beer, not thinking it’d be any different than any other hangout they’d had before. It had been different, though, since the couple couldn’t keep their hands or eyes on anything in the room but each other. But he couldn’t begrudge his friends. A few months back, Flynn and Sabrina had slipped from the friend zone to the in-zone. Flynn was the happiest he’d been in a long while.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” The cute blonde winked at him and moved away to greet another patron.

If he wasn’t mistaken, that lifting feeling in his chest was relief at his decision not to dance the dance with her. Flirting was easy—hell, second nature—to him. Asking her out wouldn’t be an issue. He had it down. He’d heard yes more times than no, and often heard “Yes!” shouted with exuberance later the same night in his bed.

Over the past few weeks, however, he’d noticed he was tired of the game. Going out on a few dates, a round or three of spectacular sex (or okay sex—but even okay sex was pretty damn good), and then finding his way out before things progressed to anything serious… If they got that far. Lately, he’d grown tired of the awkward parting in the middle of the night or the next morning. Tired of the walk of shame.

Thirty years old was too young to be this jaded.

You’re just tired after a long week. Don’t analyze it to death.

He leaned forward to pull his wallet from his back pocket, ready to pay and take his gloomy self home, when he noticed a stunning vision striding toward him. He froze, the scene unfolding in slow motion.

Strawberry blonde hair washed over slim shoulders in a waterfall of color, bright against the narrow black sheath dress draped over her slender form. Electric blue eyes flashed with determination. She was long-limbed, her walk confident, and her full pink mouth was set in a firm, unsmiling line. One eyebrow was arched and she homed in on him like he was the target and she was a missile.

With his next breath, his libido returned. Lust slammed into his solar plexus and dried out his mouth.

Which made no sense.

In those heels, in that dress and with no smile to speak of, it was obvious he was in the presence of a way-too-serious woman. He’d had a close call with a woman like this one in his past, and he’d since decided that cute, bubbly bartenders were more his style.