Chapter 2

Amy

The Uber door slams shut behind me, and the warm, sticky night air wraps around me, thick with the sounds of the city. Neon lights flash overhead, casting a rhythmic dance of red and blue across the sidewalk. The line outside Fantasies winds down the block, buzzing with the anxious energy of the crowd eager to get in.

I run my fingers over the borrowed dress, its silky black fabric hugging my curves in a way that feels both sexy and a little naughty. Of course, it’s one of Blair’s. Strappy, short, and barely-there, it’s a dress made to turn heads. With heels that make my legs look longer than they really are and a bold coat of deep red lipstick, I actually feel like the kind of girl who is supposed to be there.

“Damn, babe,” Blair whistles, looking me up and down. "If your ex could see you now, he'd be begging."

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “That’s the idea, right?”

“Exactly. Now, let's get inside before some other chick steals our spotlight."

Blair grabs my wrist and cuts through the crowd to the VIP entrance, skipping the line entirely. The bouncer— The bouncer—a massive guy with tattoos spilling over the edges of his black, stretched-out T-shirt—leans against the wall, his eyes scanning us with a familiar glint of amusement.

A knowing smile spreads across his face. “Back again so soon, Blair?”

“Miss me?” Blair winks. A flicker of curiosity tightens in my chest. How well does she know this place?

His chuckle is deep, his eyes gleaming with something teasing. "You practically live here. I should be charging you rent."

"Only if room service is included." She tilts her head, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

I wonder just how many nights she’s spent here. Or what kind of trouble she’s gotten into.

He lets out a laugh but doesn't make a move to cut us off. Instead, he shoots me a look, sizing me up from head to toe with an unmistakable curiosity. "New friend?"

"My date this evening." Blair hugs her arm around my shoulder.

He nods in approval, stepping aside with a self-satisfied smile. "Well then, darling, try not to break too many hearts."

I barely manage a polite smile before Blair pulls me through the entrance, into another world.

As soon as I step inside, Fantasies wraps around me.

The air is thick, heavy with sweat, expensive cologne, and something deeper, more intoxicating—the unmistakable aroma of desire. The bass thumps through my body, slow and deliberate, a rhythm that invites hips to sway and hands to explore.

At the center of it all, the dance floor is alive, a sea of bodies moving together, grinding in sync with the music. Above, crimson and violet lights flicker and dance across the room, casting everything in a sultry, shadowy glow.

Surrounding the dance floor, plush lounge seating curves along the perimeter, low leather couches and velvet chairs filled with couples, threesomes—more—entwined, teasing, lost in their own little worlds. Some are whispering, some laughing, while others seem completely oblivious to the eyes on them.

Off to the side, the bar stretches out, sleek and inviting, backlit with a seductive red glow. The bartenders glide effortlessly, mixing drinks for the glistening, half-dressed patrons who are already lost in the night.

Beyond the crowd, my eyes catch a glimpse of a dimly lit hallway, partially hidden in the shadows. People slip in and out, their movements purposeful, almost eager. I have no idea what lies beyond that door. But judging by the dazed, blissed-out looks on the faces of those who come back, it’s more than just another lounge.

Blair leans in, her lips brushing against my ear. "Alright, rule number one—no real names. If someone asks, be whoever you want to be. Rule number two—never go anywhere alone. I’m your wingwoman, and I’ll rescue you from any creeps. Rule number three—don’t start anything you’re not ready to finish."

I swallow hard and nod. The rules make sense—just like any other night out with Blair. Except this very much wasn’t just any other night.

“This way,” Blair calls over the music, guiding me toward a sleek locker room. We stash our phones and coats in the provided lockers—discretion is key here, it seems—and make our way to the bar.

Blair signals to the bartender, a pretty blonde with messy hair and a wicked smile, from behind the counter. They exchange friendly smiles. I see how the bartender's eyes pause on Blair before shifting to me, interest flickering on her face.

"Well, well hey Blair," the bartender drawls, eyes flicking between us with curiosity. "Who’s your gorgeous friend?"

Blair leans back against the counter, a smile spreading across her face. "Just a birthday girl looking for a good time."

The bartender’s gaze lands on me, slow and deliberate. "Lucky I am here tonight, then. Happy birthday." Her smile widens as she reaches for a bottle. "Your drinks are on the house tonight."

She pours two shots and slides them down the bar, her hand brushing against mine as she leans in just enough for between us to crackle with energy. "Let’s kick things off with these. Celebrate properly now!"

I hesitate for just a moment before clinking my glass against Blair’s. The liquor burns as it goes down, but that warmth lingers, easing the tightness in my chest.

Blair doesn’t let me dwell on it. Before I can even set the glass down, she snatches my wrist and pulls me toward the dance floor.

“Wait, Blair—”

She spins around, laughing.  "We’ll drink more later! Right now, it's time to dance!" Her voice barely cuts through the deep thrum of the music.

Before I can protest, I’m pulled into the thrumming heartbeat of the club. The heat and movement wrap around me, bodies swaying in slow, fluid waves. The dance floor is a different kind of wild—not chaotic, not reckless, but purposeful. Every touch, every movement feels intentional, teasing the edge of something wicked.

The music wraps around me like a warm embrace, sinking into my skin and washing away the last remnants of doubt. I close my eyes and let it pull me under—allowing it to erase the memory of Jake, the image of him tangled up with someone else, the humiliation that still stings beneath the surface.

Fuck him.

I don’t just hear the music; I feel it, a steady pulse that resonates deep in my bones, urging my body to move. I simply let go.

It doesn’t take long before someone finds me.

Tall, handsome, confident. A strong grip on my waist, fingers splaying over my hip. He matches my rhythm like he’s been waiting for me all night.