The big save
The bar was alive with energy, a rhythm of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the dimly lit room. My scarlet slip dress clung to me like a second skin, tracing the curves of my chest and hips before falling effortlessly down my thighs. It was a bold choice—one that demanded attention—but I wasn’t there for anyone else. I slid onto a plush, dark red seat at the bar and ordered my go-to drink, a cosmopolitan.
The first sip was like a familiar friend, tart and sweet, loosening the edges of my nerves without making me reckless. I swirled the glass in my hand, letting the cool liquid steady me, when a man slid onto the stool beside me. I caught a faint whiff of his cologne—woodsy, masculine—but kept my eyes on my drink.
“Can I get another, please? Thank you,” I said to the bartender, finishing the last drop of my cocktail. Before I could reach for my wallet, the man beside me spoke.
“I’ll cover that,” he said with a confident smirk.
I turned to him, offering a polite but guarded smile. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, sweetheart,” he replied, and my interest immediately waned.
He wasn’t bad-looking—dirty brown hair, a peek of tattoos at the end of his shorts, tall enough to cast a shadow over me—but the word “sweetheart” was a red flag. I gave a tight-lipped smile and returned to my drink.
“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning closer.
I sighed inwardly. Here we go. “Emily,” I lied smoothly. There was no way I was giving him my real name.
I tried to slip away, hoping to leave the conversation behind, but before I could take a step, his hand wrapped around my arm. Firm. Too firm.
“Let go of me, sir,” I said, a little louder than intended, trying to yank free.
“I just wanna talk to you, sugar,” he said, his tone dripping with false charm.
“Ew! What the hell? Let go!” Panic prickled up my spine as his grip tightened.
“She said let go, you fat fuck. You can listen to her, or I can break your arm. Your choice.”
Relief washed over me as the man released me. I stumbled back into a pair of strong arms, and I looked up.
Andrés. My so-called enemy.
We’d been at odds since elementary school, always pushing each other’s buttons. I thought I’d left him behind when I moved to New York at sixteen, but somehow, he’d followed me here, to Las Vegas.
“It’s fine, Andrés. I’ve got it,” I said, rubbing my wrist. It was already red and tender.
“Sure didn’t look like you did,” he retorted, his eyes scanning my skin. “You okay?”
I nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah. I’m okay. Thanks.”
He studied me for a moment, his light brown eyes warm under the dim club lights. Andrés had always been infuriatingly attractive—tall, broad-shouldered, his skin glowing under the lights, and a presence that could make anyone forget the world around them. And yes, he smelled like cedar and trouble.
“Do you wanna dance?” he asked, a hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
The cosmopolitan had loosened my nerves enough that I didn’t hesitate. “Sure.”
He led me to the dance floor, the bass thumping through my chest, and I let the music guide my movements. Andrés stood close behind me, watching, a sly grin tugging at his lips. I reached back, taking his hands and placing them on my waist, feeling the heat of his body through mine.
He leaned closer, his breath warm at my ear. “You’re making it hard to behave,” he murmured.
“Then don’t,” I whispered back, teasing, letting the rhythm of the music and the press of his body take over.
For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. There was just the music, the lights, and the tension crackling between us. Andrés pressed a kiss to my neck, and I shivered, caught somewhere between irritation and something much more dangerous.
“We can’t do this here,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
“Then let’s go somewhere else,” I said, letting my fingers find his hand.
He smirked, tugging me toward the exit. The cool night air hit me as we stepped outside, and suddenly everything seemed sharper—the city lights, the sounds, the heat between us.
“You’re so… distracting,” I said, letting a small laugh escape.
“Not half as much as you are,” he replied, opening the car door for me.
And somehow, just like that, the night had changed everything
