CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY
LENA

The textbook definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

My personal definition? Getting into a sexual arrangement with Ethan Hale.

I blamed it on law school and raging hormones. If my schedule wasn’t so jam-packed, I wouldn’t have ended up sleeping with the literal enemy.

We hadn’t hooked up again since making our pact last week, but I knew it was only a matter of time. The anticipation was already getting under my skin.

My vibrators were fine when they were the only source of release I had. But now that consistently amazing sex was an actual possibility, my body was practically rioting—desperate to make up for years of dry spells and stress-induced celibacy.

I did my best to silence the restless hum under my skin as Ava, Alex, Stella, and I stepped into Hyacinth—a buzzing new club on 14th Street.

I refused to think about Ethan tonight. Not here. Not with Ava standing a few feet away. That would be all kinds of wrong.

Besides, I had this paranoid fear she’d suddenly develop mind-reading powers and instantly know I’d been fantasizing about her brother.

I shot her a quick glance, but she was engrossed in conversation with Alex, completely unaware of my internal guilt parade.

"This place is unreal." Stella craned her neck, eyes wide as she took in the massive waterfall chandelier dangling above us. It spilled down three sparkling tiers, shimmering under the strobing club lights like liquid diamonds.

The music thrummed through the air, vibrating in my bones and adding to the electric current creeping along my spine.

God, I’d missed this—being alive, being surrounded by people, being somewhere other than buried in case law and textbooks. Ava and Stella were perfectly content with quiet nights, but I drew my energy from crowds. Their presence lit me up in ways caffeine or even a good rush of adrenaline never could.

“Only the best to celebrate our new home,” I said, nudging Stella playfully with my hip. “Can you believe it? I honestly thought Pam might keel over.”

After weeks of waiting and dealing with one setback after another, we’d finally moved into The Mirage. That morning, Stella and I had picked up our keys from a thoroughly annoyed Pam, and we’d spent the rest of the day unpacking—with a little help from our friends.

Tonight was our reward: a much-needed escape, filled with drinks, music, and dancing, at the most talked-about club in town.

Stella shook her head. "Only you would sound so happy about that."

"Can't help it. She makes it so easy." I flashed a mischievous smile. "I promise we'll be the best tenants ever."

"J, I swear to God, if you get us kicked out of the building..."

"I won't. Have more faith in me. But if seeing us around raises her blood pressure..." I shrugged. "That's not our fault."

Stella sighed and shook her head again..

Ava touched my arm. "Alex and I are going to grab a table. You guys coming?" Only the roped-off VIP area contained tables, but I wasn't surprised Alex could finagle us access.

I was surprised he'd helped us unpack, though that was one hundred percent Ava's doing. He'd worn the same grumpy look he was wearing now all day.

"Later. I'm scoping out the floor first." I appreciated a good VIP area as much as anybody, but I wasn't sequestering myself on my first night out in months. "You go ahead. I'll meet up with you guys in a bit." I patted Alex's shoulder. "Smile. It's not illegal."

His stony expression didn't budge.

Oh, well. I tried.

While Alex, Ava, and Stella made their way to the VIP area, I pushed my way to the bar. I'll do a lap of the dance floor later, see if anything interesting was happening, then join them.

I was the one who'd suggested we go clubbing tonight, even though we were all tired from unpacking, so I didn't blame them if they wanted to chill.

Honestly, we should've stayed in, but it was my last semi-free night before graduation. I had to do something before bar prep took over my life, and our new apartment was as good an excuse for a celebration as any.

I placed my order for a whiskey sour and scanned the club while I waited. Gold outline sketches of hyacinths snaked over the black walls while fresh bouquets of the actual flower dotted the modular tables scattered throughout the room.

A green-haired DJ pumped out remixes from his platform overlooking the dance floor, and servers in skimpy black uniforms circulated with trays of shots. It was leagues above what other D.C. nightspots had to offer, and I could see why Hyacinth was so pop-My phone buzzed with a new text.

Annoyance and anticipation swirled in my chest when I saw who it was.

Ethan: Tonight, midnight.

We'd agreed to keep our communications short, to the point, and vague enough that if anyone saw them, we could explain them away with a creative excuse. His text met all three criteria, but still.

What happened to a good old-fashioned hey, how are you first?

Me: Can't. I'm busy.

Ethan: Too busy for an orgasm?

Me: Your fragile ego can't take a postponement? If that's the case, this isn't going to work...

For once, Ethan ignored the bait.

Ethan: Tomorrow, 10pm. My place.

Ethan: P.S. You're going to pay for the fragile ego comment...

My breath hitched, and I was in the middle of typing out a reply when I heard my name, loud and clear, over the pounding music.

"Lena."

I froze, ice trickling through my veins at the sound of that voice.

It couldn't be him. I was in D.C. How could he have possibly found me, in this club on this night?

My mind was playing tricks on me. It had to be.

But when I raised my head, my eyes confirmed what my brain desperately wanted to deny.

Light brown hair. Blue eyes. Cleft chin.

No.

Panic clawed up my throat, rendering me mute.

"Hey, J." Max smiled, the sight more menacing than reassuring. "Long time no see."