I was wondering if you maybe you wanted to dance? Really? What the hell is wrong with me?

"No thanks, sweetie. I'm not interested," he says with a laugh.

Oh my damn. How humiliating.

I quickly turn and take off back to my table. He resumes staring at the news until a man walks up to him smiling.

"Devin. Nice to see you. Are you ready to run over the schematics?"

I listen and hear his voice warmly responding to the man. It almost pisses me off to hear how smooth his tone can be shortly after he just stabbed me in the eyes with his ice cold stare.

"Yes I am, though it's quite the odd scene you've chosen for business."

The man laughs. "I like the young air in here. It reminds me how life isn't always about work. I think a youthful surrounding is good for you, considering you've forgotten how young you are."

Devin. His name is Devin. It suits him since it's so close to devil. Cruel, hot devil. If I could crawl into a hole and hide for eternity I would.

"That was brutal," Melissa, Henry's sister whispers.

I swear I think that bitch enjoyed watching me get my knees chopped off.

"Yeah. I know. I was kind of there," I mumble, my humiliation seeping through every orifice of my body.

Clara sympathetically rests her hand on my shoulder while adding, "He has to be gay."

I let a laugh escape, and I see him almost smirk. He couldn't have heard her though. I have to stop looking at him. It's so hard to do when he's right there, his ruthlessly sexy body right in my line of view.

"Let's go dance. I'll drink on the way down," I murmur distractedly.

I pray I drink enough to forgot this ever happened. I'll gladly expel my memories tonight. No matter how ungraceful or how undignified hugging a toilet might seem, it'll leave me with more self-respect than his brutal rejection did.

Clara takes my hand as our group starts descending the intimidating staircase that feels to be wobbling beneath my inebriated body which is stilted by the absurd extra inches. My hand grasps firmly to the railing in order to hold myself steady, given the fact I'm not used to wearing heels.

I'm happy when I feel the level floor beneath me, though it too feels as though it's moving. As soon as my body starts swaying to the music, I feel alien hands resting on my hips. I turn to meet a guy who is eye level with me, and he's smiling with a seductive grin that's not seducing me in the least.

I pull his hands off of me and dismiss him with a wave of my hand. I roll my eyes and resume my dance with Clara. She starts laughing against the deafening music when a new set of hands find their way around my waist, and I can feel someone's body pressed against mine from behind.

I remove myself from the clutches of the latest wolf and pull Clara with me.

She yells loudly, "See. I told you that guy has to be gay. These men can't stay away from the sexy Alexius Smith."

I laugh a little at her incorrigible efforts to rebuild my confidence. I keep rebuffing the attempts of the numerous men trying to weasel their way into a dance with me. They always want what they can't have. That's where I went wrong with Mr. Business Suit. No man wants a girl who wants them because they're fucking assholes like that. I knew better, but Alexius didn't. Poor girl had to learn the hard way.

"You're hot," a drunk guy yells in my ear.

The alcohol on his breath is strong enough to get a sober bystander drunk. Holy crap.

Clara laughs louder, and then an old, familiar song starts playing. I can see the excitement budding in her eyes, and I immediately start backing up.

"Hell no," I object to her silent question.

"Please. It's been so long. I need this," she pleads in a whiny, childlike tone.

"No. I'm not doing our eighth grade, made-up dance in a New York club. It was bad back then, and now it would just be pathetic. I can't believe they're even playing this old song."

"I asked them to. Please dance with me. We're never going to see these people again," she whimpers while pouting her lips.

I start laughing a little as I point to my shoes.

"I can barely walk in these. There's no way."

She pulls off her shoes and hands them to Melissa. She motions for me to do the same, and I follow her lead with my begrudged, defeated motion. It's her weekend. It's not as though I haven't already suffered through one humiliation. At least this one will make Clara happy.

She makes a clearing on the dance floor, and we wait for our beat. Our feet start mimicking the old dance steps we taught ourselves so long ago, and I laugh with each turn and twist. Everyone is clapping as we chuckle our way through our silly moves.

When the song ends, we take a bow to the crowd who are drunk enough to applaud our sad little number. But a big, brawny man stalks toward us with a very disapproving gaze.

"You have to wear shoes. It's dress code," he adamantly admonishes.

Clara and I both giggle like embarrassed children from our scolding as we pull our heels back on.

"Oops," she mutters.

I laugh a little more until a new guy drapes his arm across my shoulders.

"You're a good dancer," he yells.

Oh good grief. "No thanks," I say loudly, my voice barely audible over the music.

"I didn't ask anything," he says with a puzzled gaze.

"No, but you're leading up to it. I'm saving you some time."

Brazen or bitchy? I'm not sure.

"You're a bitch," he says while glaring at me.

Apparently he thought it was more bitchy than brazen. I can deal with that. I've been called worse.

"Yes I am. Yet another reason you should find someone else to bug."

He drops his arm and towers over me threateningly. I'm not used to someone getting this pissed in such a crowded place. I might have finally crossed a line.

Clara yells, "Get lost. We don't want any trouble. We're just trying to enjoy our night."

His eyes reveal a stone-cold glare, one he refuses to relinquish. Alcohol and anger... not good. I should have known better.

"So am I. Your bitch friend thinks she's too damn good to even speak to me."

The music tapers off as the sound system starts playing a lower, slower song.

"That's because she is," a new voice interjects.

I swallow hard when I see Devin staring down at the guy who's accosting me. He steps between the guy and me before speaking again.

"She's with me. If you have a problem with that, then you need to deal with me, not her. Got it?" Devin growls.

His voice is so much sexier when it's being protective rather than cold and dismissive. Why is he doing this though?

The other guy throws his hands up in surrender. "Sorry dude. Didn't know."

He skulks off, and Clara abandons my side as Devin turns to meet my eyes.

"You okay?" he asks without having to yell over the softer music.

"Yeah. Thanks," I mumble with a touch of humiliation still lingering in my tone.

"I'm Devin Cole."

His hand extends to shake mine, and I warily proffer my hand. His touch is so... mmm. The glass in his hand carries a dark, amber liquid, but he doesn't seem to be affected by its toxin. His eyes are expectant as his hand holds onto mine. I finally end the suspense with a lie.

"I'm Alexius Smith."

He smirks slightly, revealing a peek of his perfect teeth. I wiggle free from the heated grip of his hand and try to wipe the tempting tingles off.

"Sorry about earlier, I was a little distracted. I thought you were... different," he says vaguely, his head tilting for a moment before straightening back up.

I shrug and try to sound casually unaffected when I say, "It's okay. I need to get back to my friends."

I start to turn, but his hand catches mine.

"Stay. Dance with me. Let's convince the army of men chasing after you that you really are taken."

My breathing hitches slightly from the unexpected touch. I slowly raise my eyes to meet his, and I very nearly dissolve under his smoldering stare.

"You made me feel like a complete fool earlier. I believe you said you weren't interested. Thank you for the help, but I really do need to go," I mumble.

He doesn't let go though, and with every passing second, my strength wavers.

"I said I was sorry about that. I changed my mind," he says with a fiery, low tone.

I seize the opportunity for a little payback.

"What a coincidence. So did I," I smugly reply.

He doesn't seem humiliated by my rejection though. His eyes spark like he's the predator now.

"We'll see about changing your mind back then," he says with a low, tempting growl.

I shiver slightly when his arm gently grazes against mine as he passes by me, casually sipping his drink as he does so. I smile once I know he can't see me, and I wipe it from my face before I go to rejoin the girls.

"What the crap are you doing? He's totally hot for you. Go get him," Clara scolds while trying to usher me away.

I laugh a little at her overreaction.

"He likes the chase, not me. Now that I've made it harder, he's suddenly interested. I'm not into the whole charade personally. I like simplicity, and I'm not going to waste time with my best friend to endeavor on a fruitless journey."

"I think it's a fruit-filled journey. Go get you some. That man is ripe for the picking. Please don't let me down."

I roll my eyes while murmuring, "Let's go back to the quieter part. The music is picking back up, and it's getting more crowded now."

She drops her shoulders, but cedes to my request. The other girls are giggling at my close encounter with Mr. Piping Hot. He's nothing but trouble in a designer suit. He's just a well disguised jerk, The kind of jerk a girl ends up drowning herself in a tub of ice cream over once the thrill of the chase ends.

We sit down at the table, and a waitress rushes over to us to bring us a flashy bottle of expensive champagne.

"Wow. Henry is definitely making sure you enjoy every minute," I gush to Clara.

"Ms. Smith?" the waitress asks.

That's my fake last name. It's for me?

Clara's eyes teem with intrigue and approval as I look back toward the waitress.

"That's me," I lie.

"This is from Mr. Cole. He said to make sure your table's tab goes to him for the rest of the night, and he requested my services be solely focused on you. Here's a bottle of champagne, courtesy of him."

Oh drat. Trouble just invaded my night against my will.

"Well," Melissa snarks bitterly. "How in the world did you manage that?"

I shrug. "Beats the hell out of me. I turned him down as punishment for his rudeness earlier."

My eyes dart around the room, but I don't see him anywhere.

"Well this night just got interesting," Clara beams, sipping her glass of champagne while offering me an appraising glance.

I slump a little in my seat as a large platter of chocolate covered strawberries is brought to us. There's a note in the middle of the platter addressed to "Alexius Smith." I warily pull it open and read it.

Has your mind changed yet?

I smile reflexively and quickly check the room, but I still don't see him. I sigh a little before writing under his text on the card.

No, but thank you for the strawberries and booze. Perhaps you're too fond of the chase.

I hand the waitress the card, and she smirks as she reads the front. I scratched out "Alexius Smith" and changed it to "Mr. Loves The Chase."

She disappears from the room, and I try to assess where she is going. She seems to disappear behind a crowd of men, and I lose her behind the flock. Clara interrupts my silent search.