I still, a thousand thoughts dancing through my mind. The fear and resentment of being cheated on seep into my conscious, reminding me how I was nothing to Dante, how I was just used by him and then thrown away like trash. What if this guy was looking at Jade? How will I compe-

“Hey there, gorgeous.” The man is here, right in front of me, a leather jacket hugging his muscular arms. A long, jagged scar rest on his cheek, making him look rugged but no less handsome. This man is what I imagine the Greek Gods looked like when they roamed the earth.

I have to look up to meet his deep jade eyes, a tinge of ocean turquoise rings his irises. “Hi.” Is all I can manage to respond. He’s looking at me, so close I can smell the earthy cologne that laces his tan skin. This is probably the tallest, biggest guy I’ve ever encountered, and he’s come to me.

Not Jade.

Not the girls twerking behind me.

But me.

Jade gives me a triumphant ass slap before touting her way back to her bartender, “I’ll grab you a drink.” She winks.

The man pulls out his billfold before she gets too far, “Here.” He hands her a few hundred-dollar bills. “It’s on me.”

“Patron!” She dances.

I smile up at him, “Thank you.”

“What’s your name?” He asks, leaning his tall body against a support beam.

“Macey.” I try to make my voice sound sultry, but it’s too quiet in this crowded club.

He leans in closer to hear me better, “Mace?”

The moment the words leave his lips, I want to slap him. But it isn’t his fault my shitty boyfriend cheated on me. “Macey.” I correct, standing on my tiptoes to reach him.

He’s about six-foot-three, covered in tattoos. The muscles in his arms strain against his midnight-black worn-out leather jacket, with the symbol of a snake on the left shoulder. Motorcycle gang maybe? I’m looking to lose myself tonight, not get involved with anything dangerous. But he looks so sweet, with long hair pulled into a bun, a dimpled grin. Soft yet hard eyes.

His hand comes up to move a stray piece of hair behind my ear, confident. “Do you and your friend want to come party with us?” He nudges his head back, to where four other guys sit at a VIP booth. A crystal decanter of whiskey sits on the rectangular glass table in front of the couch while sexy bottle girls surround them.

I tilt my head, wondering how good these men would look in a photo to make Dante jealous. Me, sitting in the middle of the five of them, drunk and wild and free. “What’s your name?”

“Kane.” He responds, his tone low and bold.