But again, she’d set her own feelings aside and been the supportive friend Rebecca needed. They already had the plans up and running. Her fiancé was quite happy to leave all that to the “chicks,” as he called them, which made both of them laugh in disgust. At forty-two, Mandy was definitely too old to be called a chick, and Rebecca felt the same, even though she was slightly younger at thirty-eight. But that was her fiancé—Mr Laid Back. Or was that Mr Lazy? Mandy wasn’t quite sure, and the difference between the two titles was a very thin line. To be honest, she’d never quite taken to him, but had always assumed that was because, in her eyes, no man could ever be good enough for Rebecca.

She heaved a big sigh and pushed all thoughts of wedding plans—and Rebecca—out of her mind. She turned back to watch the main room for a few more moments before heading down to her office. She had payroll to finish, and there was a very chilled glass of Prosecco with her name on it somewhere down at the main bar.

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9

Manchester, present day

Lou showered slowly, standing under the hot water with her head tipped back, enjoying the sensation as it gushed over her breasts and down over her abs. It was early yet, but she liked to take her time before heading out to the club. For her, this was a subtle form of foreplay. She listened to her body tell her what mood it was in. More often than not she was the “aggressor” on club nights, but that took so much energy to pull off. It was a struggle. In order to keep the interactions exactly as she desired them—not very vocal and at a pace she controlled—required her to be the one in charge. And yet, that went against her basic instincts.

She had learned, though, it was generally the only way it worked for her. Occasionally, she had been the one who found a spot on the wall, waited, and let someone else come to her. Usually on nights like tonight, when she was just too tired to do anything else. But those nights were always the most uncomfortable for her. She could never be sure who or what she was going to get. Battling herself was definitely wearing her down, and thoughts of how to change that had crept to the forefront of her mind lately.

It was funny, but since that time with Max, she’d struggled to find that same level of intensity. That had been, by far, her best, most…intimate…experience at the club since she’d discovered it a year ago. In other circumstances, Max would definitely be the kind of woman she could imagine having something more with, someone who could kindle that kind of passion in her with one look, one touch.