The prospects are slim tonight—everyone here is in a group or already paired up. Maybe I should just head out to Holt. At least there’s more than one bar out that way.

I take another swig from my flask as I consider my options. The vibe at The Oak is admittedly not bad—it feels like a local watering hole but with more of an upscale, hipster vibe. I honestly would probably like the place if Jake Fun-Sucker Whitely-Vargo or whatever his name is nowadays wasn’t the owner.

Maddie: ETA 30 minutes. I’m calling a car now.

I close out my messages app and scroll through Instagram for a few minutes, delaying the ride share that will take me out to Holt. Heading to the college town doesn’t appeal to me, but it looks like my only option.

I give one last glance around the room, resigned to the fact that I’m going to have to work a lot harder than I planned tonight. But before I can open the Lyft app, someone new walks up behind the bar.

I can’t make him out at first because his entire upper body is being blocked by the crate of liquor bottles he’s holding against his chest. But when he sets the crate down and turns, my heart flutters and my stomach fills with butterflies.

I try to school my expression as I stare down the bar at a man I haven’t seen in the flesh for more than a year.

Fielding Haas.

Well over six feet tall. Broad shoulders. Arm veins for fucking days. Straight white teeth behind a blinding smile that’s so intense it almost looks predatory.

His hair’s shorter than before, and he’s got a gorgeous tan, even though summer’s just begun. Somehow, he’s even hotter than I remember.

And fuck, do I remember.

I may not have seen the guy around lately, but Fielding was a mainstay at just about every party and holiday get together my freshman year of college. He was good friends with my sister-in-law, and practically besties with Jake.

God, it’s been too long. Just seeing him across the bar brings back a surge of memories. I miss his flirty banter and cocky attitude. I loved how he’d blatantly hit on me to get on my brother’s nerves. He’s hot, and he knows it. Just watching him has my body humming with excitement.

I’m not ashamed to admit that Fielding Haas has starred in more than one fantasy I’ve conjured up while spending quality time with my battery-operated boyfriend. Who could blame me? His eyes are like crystal-clear lagoons, and he’s at least six two!