A Frozen Man's Sun

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The club was drowning in shadows and colored light. Neon strobes flashed across sweating bodies, painting the crowd in brief bursts of red, blue, green. Music throbbed through the walls, bass heavy enough to rattle bones. People pressed against one another on the dance floor, intoxicated by alcohol and rhythm.

I wasn't one of them.

I moved through the chaos, weaving past writhing bodies until I reached the counter. "One Jack Daniel's," I said flatly.

The bartender nodded and turned to pour. I claimed a stool and sat, elbows on the counter, my gaze fixed on the row of bottles gleaming under the bar lights.

That was when a woman slid in beside me. Her perfume hit first—sweet, heavy, desperate. Then her arm curled around my shoulder like we were lovers.

"Alone?" she asked sweetly.

I gave a single nod.

"Want me to keep you company?"

"No."

Her pout turned into a smirk. "Playing hard to get, huh?" Her hand descended boldly onto my thigh, stroking over the fabric of my jeans. "Let's get this beast of yours hard..."

I shoved her hand off and turned to glare at her. "You're not my type." Just one glance told me enough: used, desperate, worn down by nights like these. And if she carried something contagious? Not worth the risk.

"You're harsh, baby," she whined.

My drink arrived, amber liquid catching the light. I downed it in one motion, ignoring the woman clinging to my side.

"Another," I told the bartender.

The woman pressed her chest against my arm. I clenched my jaw. "Get off me. Give me some space."

She finally pulled away, though her sulk was obvious. Relief washed over me—briefly. Then a cry erupted, sharp enough to cut through the music. I looked down.

The woman was sprawled on the sticky floor.

"What the hell—?"

"Hi, Ice. What a coincidence."

The voice was familiar, playful, almost mocking. I looked up. Flemeral stood there, smiling at me like she owned the room. She slid into the stool beside me as if she had every right to.

"What are you doing in a place like this?" I frowned.

"I should ask you the same." She ordered without hesitation. "Tequila, please."

The bartender nodded.

"Bitch! Why did you push me?!" The woman on the floor shrieked, climbing up with a fury.

Flemeral didn't even flinch. She just smiled. "Because this man beside me wanted space. I only gave it to him."

"He's mine!" The woman jabbed a finger at me, voice shrill. "I found him first!"

"First come, first serve? That's not how it works." Flemeral leaned closer, her smirk dangerous. "He's not yours. He's mine."

Before I could react, she grabbed me by the collar and crushed her lips against mine. The shock froze me for half a second before instinct kicked in. I kissed her back. Hard. Her lipstick smeared across my mouth, a bitter, intoxicating taste. I wanted more—but she pulled away, turning to the other woman with victory in her eyes.

"See? He wants me."

The woman scowled, humiliated, and stormed off.

Our drinks arrived. Flemeral and I raised our glasses in unison, throwing the liquor back. Heat burned down my throat, a familiar comfort.