Chapter 2- Distracting Him

Sabrina

The moment we stepped into the bar, I wanted to turn around and leave.

It was loud and crowded, the air thick with perfume, alcohol, and laughter. The lights were dim, glowing red and gold, and music pulsed through the floor so hard it made my chest vibrate. Girls in short skirts swayed on the dance floor, their makeup perfect, their hair shining under the lights.

And there I was—in my old jeans and faded shirt, clutching my small purse like it was a lifeline.

Frank, of course, blended in easily. He’d styled his hair before we left and even sprayed on cologne. He waved at a group of girls near the bar, already grinning.

I trailed behind him, trying not to trip over my own feet.

He leaned close and shouted over the music, “Tina’s here! She’s sitting with her friends by the left corner!”

I forced a smile. “Great. Then you don’t need me.”

But Frank wasn’t listening. His eyes were already searching for her. He looked like a man on a mission.

I sighed, shaking my head. This was pointless. I didn’t even want to be here. He'd practically dragged me out here even when I told him I wasn't going. He never listens to me even when I say no. Always looking for a way to guilt trip me.

His phone suddenly buzzed, and he glanced at it. A grin spread across his face. “She’s with her brother. He's upstairs. I just need you to distract him for a few minutes.”

“What?” I shouted, frowning. “Frank, no! I’m not doing that!”

“Come on, Sabrina. Please.” His voice softened, using that tone he always used when he wanted me to give in. “You owe me, remember?”

That line cut deep. I hated when he said that.

If not for his grandmother, I might not even be alive. She’d taken me in when I had nothing—no family, no food, no home. I loved that woman more than anyone. And every time Frank reminded me of her, I felt like I couldn’t say no.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Just five minutes.”

He smiled, squeezing my shoulder. “That’s my girl.”

Those three words used to make my heart flutter. Now, they just made me tired.

Frank went off to find Tina, leaving me standing alone by the bar. I ordered a drink I didn’t really want, just to have something to hold. The ice clinked against the glass, and I took a small sip, hoping the bitter taste would calm my nerves.

That was when I saw him.

Upstairs, near the balcony railing, stood a man in a light shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. He held a glass of wine loosely in his hand, looking down at the crowd like he didn’t belong here either.

And then his eyes met mine.

For a moment, everything else disappeared—the music, the noise, the people.

It was him.

That was the man I had a one-night stand with a year ago on a business trip. That day, Frank forgot my birthday again and even posted photos on social media of his sweet moments with his new girlfriend. I broke down, got drunk, and ended up with a handsome man in bed.

But I never expected that man to be Eric.

My stomach twisted, and heat rushed to my face. I blinked, half-convinced my mind was playing tricks on me. But no—his eyes stayed locked on mine. Calm. Cool. Unbothered.

I couldn’t breathe.

That night flashed through my head like a broken movie reel—the hotel room, the taste of wine, the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his hands had roamed my body and gave me pleasure I didn't know was possible. He’d looked at me like I was something rare, something worth touching.

And then the morning after, the panic, the shame. I’d slipped out before he woke up, swearing I’d never see him again.

But now here he was. Frank’s worst problem. My biggest mistake.

My phone buzzed.

Frank: Go upstairs. Distract him.

He wanted me to go distract a man who was overly protective of his sister and would follow her anywhere just to keep her safe. Great.

My hands trembled. Distract him. The words looked innocent, but I knew what they meant. Keep him busy so Frank could flirt with his sister.

I swallowed hard and looked up again. Eric was still staring. No emotion, just quiet curiosity.

I could walk away. Pretend I didn’t see him.

But Frank’s voice echoed in my head: You owe me, Sabrina.

So I grabbed my glass, took a deep breath, and started walking upstairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

When I reached the landing, Eric turned slightly, watching me come closer. His gaze was steady, unreadable, and that made it worse.

I took a second to look at him. He was tall. Black hair, blue eyes. He was dressed in all black, with his sleeves rolled up making his muscular arms visible. He looked like the type of man that spent hours in the gym, with broad shoulders.

He had this type of aura that screamed dark and dangerous. Nothing like the soft charm Frank possessed.

I quickly looked away.

“Hi,” I managed, my voice barely audible over the music.

He turned to me fully, and a slow, knowing smile curved his lips. “You finally came up,” he said softly, his tone laced with amusement. “Took you long enough.”

My pulse skipped. “I—sorry, I just… came to say hello.”

“Hello,” he repeated, taking a slow sip of his wine. Then he leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear. “Or did you come to distract me?”

I swallowed hard.

Fuck. He knew.

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth. “You don’t have to deny it. I know your friend over there is trying to hit on my sister.”

My mind raced. I wanted to explain, to say I didn’t want to be part of it—but the words tangled in my throat.

He took a small step closer, his voice dropping. “Tell me, Sabrina. Does he know you have a crush on him?”

My breath caught. My secret—the one I’d hidden for years—exposed just like that.

I stared at him, speechless.

Eric’s smile deepened, the kind that could melt steel. “Ah, so he doesn’t.”

“I don’t—” I began, but he cut me off.

“You should give up on him.” His tone shifted, soft but firm. “He’ll never see you the way you see him.”

That stung. More than I wanted to admit.

Before I could say anything, he leaned close enough that his breath brushed my ear. “But if you’re looking for someone who does see you…”

I froze.

“…you could try dating me instead.”

I blinked, thinking I must have misheard him. “What?”

He smiled lazily, his voice dropping lower. “At least in bed, we were a good match. Don’t you remember?”

My face burned. I stepped back, but his eyes followed me—intense, teasing, dangerous.

“I was drunk,” I muttered.

He smirked. “So was I. Doesn’t change the fact that it was… memorable.”

The memory flashed in my mind—his touch, his voice, the way he whispered my name that night. I hated that it still made my pulse race.

“I’m not that kind of girl,” I snapped.

“I know,” he said softly, his gaze darkening. “That’s why you intrigue me.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. The music downstairs thumped through the floor. People laughed, glasses clinked, but all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat.

Then his lips curved again, and he lifted his glass. “Go on, Sabrina. Tell your friend I’m not to be distracted tonight.”

My throat went dry. “And if I don’t?”

He chuckled, eyes glinting. “Then maybe I’ll distract you instead.”