Dottie grabs Sondra’s arm in my peripherals, barely able to hide her amusement—they think I’m in the bag, too. These assholes have been trying to get me banged since Brian and I fell apart a year ago. Three years of dating a momma’s boy with a propensity for sexual trysts with the women in his office certainly did a number on my willingness to dole out trust. Especially since after his lies and infidelity, he broke up with me. The undeserving slug dumping the honest and cluelessly committed doormat still tastes bitter in my mouth.

They’re not completely wrong to urge me to move on. They love me—I know that. But a one-night stand with Dylan, the surfing bartender, will not reform my faith in men. It’s possible it would only spear it in its side before plunging a butcher knife in its back.

Dylan slides a pen across the bar in front of me. I grab a cocktail napkin from a nearby caddy holding straws, stirrers, and napkins.

“My name is Winter,” I say, jotting down a few things on the napkin. “Jokes, anecdotes, and cute little puns about my name being a season are unwelcomed. I’m twenty-six, a publisher’s reader for a small publishing company in Port Blue, where I live. I’m a Libra, which means you and I are a turbulent mix and will either result in something gravely passionate or as disastrous as a bull locked in a church made of glass. I love reading, and I hate when people claim they dislike rom-coms. Like, stop putting on a front. They’re entertaining and we all know it.”

Crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s on the napkin, I continue. “I’m going to spend this night with my friends because it’s my best friend’s bachelorette party, and I’d be a shitty maid of honor if I didn’t give her my undivided attention. Even if she irrationally wants me to take you home and ride you like a wave.”

With a flirty smile, I fold the napkin in half, feeling the burn of Dylan’s stare on my skin. I stand on my weak knees, desperately trying to hide my nervousness, and slide it in front of him. Sondra, Dottie, and Keith follow my lead, finishing their drinks, then getting on their feet.

“We’re going dancing now. Bye, Dylan.”

Dylan swipes the napkin from the bar top, mirroring my smile. “Have fun. It was lovely meeting you, Winter, girl of my dreams.”

With that, I turn around and make my way toward the exit, friends in tow.

“What do you think about Club Lux?” I ask over my shoulder. “The DJ is always on fire Friday nights.”

“Yaaass! Let’s Lux it up!” Keith holds the door open, while Sondra, Dottie, and I single-file through it.

“So, no Hot Bartender Guy tonight?” Sondra asks.

I shake my head, threading my arm through hers. “No. No HBG tonight. It’s your night. It’s your next three weeks. It’s not every day my best friend gets married. I am one hundred percent present and ready to serve you.”