Chapter Two

Camilla

The taxi driver must have sensed my desperation because he didn't ask questions. He just drove until we stopped in front of the hotel bar I had described. Temptation. My sobs had quieted to a numb ache by the time he pulled over. I handed him cash without counting, and stumbled out into the night.

I often visited the bar once every month so it was the only place I could think of. I pushed through the door, going straight to my favorite booth. I'd never been much of a drinker, Dylan always said it made me "too emotional," as if that was a bad thing. But tonight? I needed to drown. Drown the betrayal, the stupidity, the gaping hole where my heart used to be.

I slid into the booth and waved at Gina who was a waitress at the club. She came up to me and raised an eyebrow. "What'll it be, Cam? The usuals?"

"No, I need something stronger. Like a very strong whiskey," I said, my voice strained from all the crying. "It should be neat."

She looked at me like she wanted to ask me something but someone called her name and she left only coming back with two bottles and a glass. I filled the cup and downed it in one gulp, the burn racing down my throat and I welcomed it. At least, it was better than the cold emptiness inside.

How had I been so blind? Dylan and Bella, for two years and six months. That meant every hug from her, every "I love you" from him... it was all a lie. A setup by my own family. They hated Dylan from the start. So they had to pay Bella to be my friend, to seduce him and to shatter everything. And me? I'd played right into it, working myself to the bone for a man who never loved me.

I thought I was independent, strong and in love. Turns out I was just a fool, clinging to a fairy tale to escape my family's suffocating world. Tears began to well up again, but I blinked them back, pouring myself another drink.

So this is why people drink after a breakup, I thought. To numb the thoughts in your head and forget the way your heart squeezed like it's almost a physical pain. I raised my glass in a mock toast to the empty seat opposite me. "To true love," I muttered. "May it rot in hell."

By the fourth drink, or was it the fifth?, the room had started to tilt. I felt lighter, like I was floating above the wreckage that is l my life. Tipsy, yeah, but not drunk enough to forget. I signalled to the waitress for another bottle but she was busy flirting with someone else so I stood up, intending to get another round, when I stumbled on my feet. I fell forward with my arms flailing but I didn't reach the ground before strong hands caught me around the waist.

I looked up, about to tell him off but stopped when I saw his face. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with messy blond hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes, God....they were a startling blue, the color of the summer sky and they were framed by lashes that any girl would kill for. His lips curved in what might have been amusement or annoyance, I couldn't tell. He wore a fitted black shirt that hugged his muscles. Handsome didn't even to cover it;

I didn't like blondes but if I did, it would definitely be this one.

"Don't touch me," I snapped anyway, though the words came out slurred.

He rose an eyebrow, "Fine by me."

And just like that, he let go. I fell down to the floor on my butt and people nearby laughed but I ignored them, scrambling to my feet with as much dignity as I could muster.

"What the hell?" I hissed, brushing off my jeans. "You just let me fall?"

He shrugged, those blue eyes unapologetic. "You said not to touch you. And that's what I did, not everyone has time to cater to your whims, princess." His voice was deep and filled with sarcasm.

Princess?!

The nerve of this guy but before I could retort, he was already turning away, disappearing into the crowd and I flash the middle finger to his back.

I ordered another drink to put the asshole out of my mind. Eventually, I went towards the back room, drawn by the sound of loud cheers. There was a poker table set up, a group of guys and a couple of women were huddled around.

And there he was, the blond asshole, dealing cards with that same smug grin. Our eyes met, and his brow arched in recognition. Seeing him again made me want to punch him.

"I want to play," I said, sliding into an empty seat across from him.

He eyed me skeptically. "You sure? This isn't Go Fish."

I leaned forward, meeting his gaze. "Afraid I'll beat you? How about a dare to make it interesting. If I win, you strip for me. Right here."

The table went silent, then erupted in hoots. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "And when I win? Because I will."

"Name it," I challenged.

He let his gaze linger on my lips for a second too long. "If I win, you kiss me. Right here.

I stuttered, kiss a stranger? I could take it as distraction. He is not that bad to look at "Deal."

The game started and I recognized it, Texas Hold'em. He was good and confident. His fingers were defty as he flipped cards. The first few hands went his way and my chips reduced. He gave me a cocky a grin. "I hope you're not one of those girls reserving her first kiss for true love. I wouldn't want to ruin that fairy tale."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I said sweetly, studying my cards. I'd played poker with my dad growing up. I knew how to bluff and how to read tells. His was subtle, a slight twitch in his jaw when he had a weak hand.

I started turning it around. I raised a pair of aces in the hole and smiled at the look of surprise on his face. I chipped away, habd after hand, excitement coursing through me. When last did I do something this exciting? The crowd around murmured in awe as I raked in pots and his stack shrinked.

"Beginner's luck?" he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

I smiled wider. "Or skill."

Then for the final hand, I had a full house with a lot queens over jacks. He went all in, confident with his cards. But the river card sealed it and nothing for him. I laid down my cards and gave a victorious as I leaned back in my seat. "I win. Now, off with the shirt, handsome."

The crowd cheered, but he stood slowly from his seat, that smirk returning. "I've got something even better." He came over to me and pulled me up before I could react,

"What are you doing?" I asked, moving back as he stepped closer to me.

"Hey," I protested, my heart beating faster. Up close, I could smell his cologne and somehow my eyes kept going back to his lips.

"Lucas," he corrected huskily.

"What..?"

"My name's Lucas, not 'hey.'"

His lips crashed on mine in a possessive and demanding kiss, my mind went blank for a second. What was he doing?! But then I did the most stupid thing I could think of, I kissed him back.