Second Chance Boyfriend

coming from the group of mean girls standing behind us and I hang my head back and laugh triumphantly.
    It feels really good to be the girl who gets the guy for once.
     
    Drew
     
    It took me forever to escape my apartment. Dad called twice to gripe about Adele and whatever else she was doing. I didn’t want to hear it. But he needed to unload. I sensed that and so I let him. Until finally I checked the time and realized Fable was probably waiting for me at that stupid club she’s at.
    She’s probably good and pissed at me for keeping her waiting, too.
    I finally drive myself over there and get inside, which was no small feat. I had to promise I was only going in to snag my girlfriend out of there and then we were leaving. The line to get in was huge. The guy manning the door figured out who I was real quick and was a major football fan so I lucked out when he let me in.
    Now I have a warm, sexy woman in my arms, smiling up at me like I’m God’s gift. She’s snug against me, her fingers playing in my hair at my nape, her body still moving to the music. Driving me out of my mind.
    “I thought you weren’t going to show,” she yells at me. The music is so loud I can barely hear her.
    Leaning in close, I murmur in her ear, “Sorry, my dad kept calling.”
    She nods, her fragrant hair brushing against my cheek, making me inhale sharply. “I wondered if that was the case.”
    Her friend she’s with touches Fable on the arm and tells her she needs to go. We both wave at her and she leaves, threading through the crowd until it swallows her up. The song changes, still fast though not as hyped up as the previous one, and Fable swivels her hips, the smile on her face alluring.
    Sexy as hell.
    “I missed you.” She brushes her chest against mine and I feel like I’m going to shatter. Both from being turned on and the earlier tension I dealt with over the stupid divorce. I wish he hadn’t called. He ruined my mood. My girl senses it too. Her smile turns into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
    I shrug, not wanting to dwell on a bunch of bullshit tonight. I want to focus only on her. “I’m absorbing other people’s problems and stress, which I know is ridiculous but I can’t help it.”
    Her frown softens but it’s still there. She probably feels sorry for me and I don’t want her to. I want her free and beautiful and flirtatious. Fable behaving like this makes me feel free. “I can help you with that,” she says, her voice full of promise.
    I dip my head to hear her better. “You can?”
    “Oh, yeah. You need to learn how to let go of all your troubles.” She whispers the words in my ear, the sound of her sexy voice sending a jolt of lust straight through me. “You chasing me here is the first step.”
    I settle my hands on her hips and pull her in closer. The music is loud, the room is stifling and the crowd is thick. But with Fable’s arms slung around my neck, her body close to mine, it’s like we’re the only two people in this room. “First step to what?” I ask, confused. My brain literally fries when I’m with her.
    She trails her fingers lightly down my nape and I shiver. “First step to acting like two normal people who are madly in love and can’t keep their hands off each other,” she murmurs right before she kisses me.
    I drown in the taste of her, in the feel of her sinful body snug against me. I slide my hands back and forth over her ass and she whimpers, the sexy little sound sending a zing straight threw me, making me hard.
    Damn. I want out of here. It’s too public, too crazy to indulge like this with her. We’re completely surrounded by people and the song changes yet again, a popular song that’s been overplayed on the radio, though no one here seems to care.
    Including my girl. She’s withdrawn completely from my arms, a little smile teasing her kiss-swollen lips, and she starts moving to the beat. “Dance with me,” she shouts over the music.
    I slowly shake my head, my gaze dropping to her hips. The way she moves, as if she were born to dance. She knows I’m watching too, and she puts on a show, just for me. The sway of her hips in those too-tight jeans she’s wearing, how she thrusts her chest out as she lifts her arms above her head. The white lace of her bra peeks above the neckline of the tank she’s wearing beneath the plaid button-up shirt and without thought I grab her. Let my hands rest on her waist as she moves against me.
    “You don’t dance?” She