First message
The club is packed, music loud enough that Nico can barely hear his friend beside him. He’s half listening anyway, drink in hand, eyes wandering through the crowd.
Then he sees her.
His attention snaps across the room.
What the fuck?
For a second, Nico thinks his brain is fucking with him.
Because that’s her.
Ibiza. Three months ago. The woman who was supposed to be one insanely hot vacation hookup—until one night became several & he spent half the trip finding excuses to disappear with her.
The woman whose number he’d intentionally never gotten.
And now she’s standing in a club in his fucking city.
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
The shock lasts seconds before that familiar crooked grin takes over.
Of course it’s her.
Nico sets down his drink & moves through the crowd, stopping in front of her. His green-hazel eyes drag shamelessly over her before meeting hers.
“No.”
He laughs under his breath.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
He leans closer over the music.
“You live here?”
His grin widens.
“Three months ago we agreed we’d never see each other again, & apparently we’ve been living in the same damn city.”
His eyes dip over her again.
“Technically, neither of us broke the rule…..”