Selena Pov

The woman staring back at me from the mirror was someone I barely recognized.

She wore a green sequined dress that hugged every curve, ending mid-thigh in a way that was daring without being desperate. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over bare shoulders, and her makeup was bold smoky eyes, deep red lips.

I turned slightly, watching the sequins catch the light, and felt a smile tug at my lips. It had been so long since I'd dressed up like this. So long since I'd felt like anything other than a harried secretary running on caffeine and spite.

Three days.

Three peaceful, blissfully Caleb-free days.

He'd been out of the office since Thursday, some business trip to Boston that Anabelle had mentioned vaguely when I'd asked where he was. Not that I cared. Not that I'd been relieved when his door remained closed all day, or when my phone didn't ring with curt commands.

I hadn't thought about him at all.

Liar!

I grabbed my clutch, a small black thing that barely held my phone, ID, and lipstick and heading for the door. Tonight was about freedom. About being twenty-five and alive and something other than Mr. Theller's perpetually exhausted assistant.

Tonight, Caleb Theller didn't exist.

~

The taxi ride downtown felt like shedding a skin. Each block that passed took me further from the world of mahogany desks and impossible expectations. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and red, the weekend traffic humming with possibility.

I leaned my head against the cool window and let myself breathe.

Really breathe, for what felt like the first time in days.

The office had been so quiet without him. I'd actually gotten through entire afternoons without my heart rate spiking, without that constant low-level dread of what impossible task he might demand next. I'd eaten lunch at my desk in peace. I'd left at five-thirty like a normal person.

It had been wonderful.

So why did some traitorous part of me feel like something was missing?

"Stop it," I told myself firmly.

You're free. Enjoy it.

"Club Storm, miss," the driver announced, pulling up to a building that pulsed with bass so heavy I could feel it in my chest.

I paid and stepped out into the night. The club's neon sign a stylized lightning bolt, cast everything in electric blue, and the line of people waiting to get in stretched halfway down the block.

"Selena! Over here!"

Jade was waving from near the entrance, looking stunning in a black dress that showed off her long legs. The rest of our group clustered around her, Margaret in leather pants and a crop top that would have scandalized her grandmother, Chloe in something pink and sparkly, Nicholas looking uncomfortable but determined in dark jeans and a button-down, Mike in his usual casual style.

"Holy shit," Jade breathed when I reached them, her eyes going wide. "Who are you and what did you do with our Selena?"

"Shut up," I said, but I was grinning.

"No, seriously. You look incredible." She linked her arm through mine. "Boys, avert your eyes. This one's too hot for you."

"I'm feeling very objectified right now," Nicholas said dryly.

"Good," Margaret shot back. "Now you know how we feel."

The bouncer waved us through without checking IDs, apparently Jade had some connection that made us VIPs for the night and suddenly we were inside, swallowed by a wall of sound and sensation.

The club was packed. Bodies moved everywhere, a writhing mass on the dance floor under spinning lights that turned everyone into fragments of color and shadow. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, spilled alcohol, and human heat. Bass thumped so hard it felt like a second heartbeat.

"First round's on me!" Chloe shouted over the music, already pulling me toward the bar.

We ordered drinks, bourbon for me, something pink and dangerous-looking for Chloe and she raised her glass high.

"To forgetting terrible bosses!"

"To terrible bosses!" I echoed, clinking my glass against hers.

The bourbon burned going down, warm and sharp and perfect. I ordered another immediately.

"Easy there, tiger," Chloe laughed. "We just got here."

"I'm celebrating freedom," I said, already feeling the alcohol loosen something tight in my chest. "Let me have this."

By the time I'd finished my second drink, the edges of the world had softened pleasantly. The music wasn't overwhelming anymore, it was inviting. The lights were beautiful instead of harsh. And when Chloe grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor, I didn't resist.

"I don't really dance," I tried to protest.

"Everyone dances when they're drunk enough. Come on!"

The crowd swallowed us whole. At first, I felt stiff, self-conscious, too aware of my body and how it moved. But Chloe was spinning and laughing, and the music was pounding through my bones, and the bourbon had turned my blood to liquid gold.

So I stopped thinking and just moved.

My hips found the rhythm. My arms rose above my head. The green sequins of my dress caught the spinning lights, turning me into something glittering and alive. Someone whistled. Others cheered. And for the first time in weeks, I felt powerful.

Not like a secretary scrambling to meet impossible demands. Not like someone who'd nearly fainted from hunger and exhaustion.

Just... powerful. Beautiful. Free.

No rules

I thought, spinning as the music swelled.

No office. No Caleb. No Headache.

The name tried to catch in my mind, but I shook it away. Not tonight. Tonight he didn't exist.

"Damn, Carter!" Jade appeared beside me, her own moves fluid and confident. "Where have you been hiding this?"

I laughed, the sound lost in the music, and danced harder.

~

Eventually, breathless and overheated, I stumbled off the dance floor with Chloe. We collapsed into a booth in the corner, fanning ourselves and grinning like idiots.

"That was amazing," Chloe panted. "We're doing this every weekend."

"Absolutely not. I don't have the stamina."

"You seemed pretty stamina-ful out there." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I shoved her shoulder, laughing.

"Selena."

I looked up to find Jack sliding into the booth beside me, too close, that familiar smirk on his face. He'd lost his jacket somewhere, and his shirt was unbuttoned enough to show off his chest.

"Jack," I said neutrally.

"You look incredible tonight. That dress i-" His eyes traveled down my body slowly, deliberately.

"Something else."

"Thanks." I shifted away slightly, but the booth trapped me.

"Dance with me. Come on, one dance."

"I'm actually starving," I said, flagging down a passing server. "Can I get the nachos? And maybe some fries?"

Jack's smile faltered for a moment. "Seriously? Right now?"

"Yes, seriously. I haven't eaten since noon and I've had three bourbons. Food seemed like a good idea."

Chloe snorted into her drink, catching on. "Oh, me too! Mozzarella sticks, please!"

"You ladies are killing me," Jack said, but he was already standing, ego bruised. "Maybe later, then."

"Maybe," I said noncommittally, and watched him disappear into the crowd.

Chloe raised her glass. "To shutting down fuck boys."

"To shutting down fuck boys," I repeated, clinking glasses with her again.

We were giggling over some story Chloe was telling about her disastrous Tinder date when I felt it, that prickling sensation at the back of my neck. The unmistakable feeling of being watched.

I glanced around casually, expecting to find Jack staring from across the room, or maybe some random guy trying to catch my eye.

Instead, my gaze traveled up.

The club had a VIP section on the second level, glassed-in and overlooking the dance floor. It was dim up there, but I could make out figures moving behind the glass, silhouettes backlit by softer lighting.

And one figure standing completely still, hands in his pockets, staring directly at me.

Even from this distance, even in the chaos of flashing lights and moving bodies, I knew.

Caleb Theller.

He was in a suit, rumpled, like he'd just come from the airport or a long meeting. His tie was loose, top button undone, hair slightly mussed in a way I'd never seen before. And his eyes those impossible green eyes, were locked on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

The music faded to background noise. The people around me blurred. Everything narrowed to that single point of connection, his gaze holding mine across the crowded club like a physical touch.

My heart synchronized with the bass, pounding so hard I thought everyone around me must be able to hear it.

He didn't move. Didn't smile. Just watched me with something dark and unreadable in his expression.

"Selena? You okay?" Chloe's voice sounded distant.

I blinked and looked away, breaking the connection. When I looked back up to the VIP section, the spot where he'd been standing was empty.

"I um yeah. I'm fine. Just thought I saw..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "Never mind."

"Saw what?"

"Nothing. The bourbon's making me see things."

But my hands were trembling as I reached for my water, and the back of my neck still tingled with the memory of his stare.

He was supposed to be in Boston. He was supposed to not exist tonight.

You imagined it.

Too much alcohol and too many thoughts about him lately. He's not here. He wouldn't be here.

But I couldn't quite convince myself.