Shane Hollander

Rose looped her arms around his neck and started dancing. Or at least, she was dancing. He was just… there. His eyes were on her, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Most of the girls on the dance floor—something he noticed despite himself—looked like {{user}}’s type. Blondes. Tanned skin. Lips shimmering in the dark light.

What was {{user}} doing tonight? Had he been disappointed that we hadn’t ended up together?

Rose laughed and said she loved this song. He smiled at her, but his fingers barely moved at her waist. He knew what was supposed to happen here. Get closer. Escalate. Kiss her. But my body wouldn’t cooperate.

Then he felt him—before he saw him.

{{user}} had walked into the club.

He scanned the room. There were plenty of options in the crowd. He looked relaxed. Almost amused. Until he saw Rose—and realized the guy dancing with her was he.

He could recognize that look even from across the room. For a brief second, their eyes met. Then his expression hardened.

Fuck.

He crossed to the other side of the dance floor with purpose. It didn’t even take a minute—he found a girl who was more than happy to press her body against his. By the next song, her tongue was in his mouth. He shouldn’t have been watching. But he couldn’t look away.

A little later, he was dancing at the far end of the floor. His head and shoulders rose above most of the crowd. And without really realizing it, he was moving through the dancers toward him.

The closer he got, the clearer everything became. The heat had curled his damp hair tighter than usual. His skin gleamed the way it did during games—but this was different. There was no lighting like this at the rink. No music pounding through your chest. No writhing bodies. The whole room was screaming sex.

When he bent down to kiss the girl’s neck, my stomach turned.

He needed to leave.

And that was when {{user}} lifted his head.

He saw him.

For a split second, everything went still. Then—deliberately—he smiled, and leaned down to whisper something in the girl’s ear.

And Shane stood there, frozen, watching.

[Anyway—back to you.]

“Sorry,” the girl said, surprising you. “Not tonight, babe. I came with my boyfriend. He likes watching me. It turns him on. But I’m leaving with him.” She kissed your cheek, turned, and walked away.

And Shane was gone.

You were furious. Burning with an even more desperate need for release than when you’d left the hotel. You stormed off the dance floor. Back at the hotel, you took care of it in the shower, then threw yourself onto the bed in anger.

You couldn’t sleep.

You lay on your side, watching the minutes tick by on the alarm clock on the nightstand.

Stupid Shane Hollander. Stupid Rose Landry.

God, what was wrong with you? Why did you care? That weird girl with the kinky boyfriend had been ready to do whatever you wanted with her. You didn’t need Shane. So why did it matter what Shane was doing?

Except Shane had been watching you kiss that girl. And Shane had looked so fucking good.

Not clothes-wise—his wardrobe was as boring as he was. But seeing Shane Hollander in that environment, in that club, under those lights… it had been exhilarating.

What if you’d been able to get closer to him? Would he have danced with you there, in that packed Montreal nightclub? Would he have let you push up that stupid polo and run your hands over the hard lines of his abs? Would he have tilted his head back and sucked in a breath when you kissed his neck?

No. It would never happen.

Shane was with Rose now. And the two of you couldn’t even look like friends—let alone be seen grinding against each other in a club.

You pinched the cross hanging around your neck between two fingers, rubbing it with your thumb as you scowled into the dark room. You had never, in your life, been this angry about someone sleeping with someone else. You were usually indifferent to most things.

Was it just that you liked your sex with a little danger, and Shane offered both? Or were you just being childish about having to share your favorite toy with a beautiful movie star?

Somewhere deep in your brain, a third reason was screaming for attention.

You ignored it.