“Bland.”

“What do you mean by that?” I take another sip of champagne. Gah. I’ll have to switch to something harder—something to numb my brain and erase all my memories of yesterday.

“The only guys you ever go out with are boring, dull, and safe. The kind of guys parents love. Ryan? Yawn. Phil? Dull as ditch water. Mike? He was so innocuous I can’t even remember his face.” Even your friend Charlie, who you had the sense not to date, is the same. Nice and dull.”

“They’re the only ones who ask me out.” I stare out into the night. Lake Merritt glimmers below us—an inky black stain surrounded by twinkling lights. So pretty. If I owned a place like this, I would spend all my time just looking at the view.

“Not true.” Amanda raps my knuckles with her finger. “You forget we’ve been friends since we were four. I’ve seen the guys you lust after, but the minute they express any interest, you run away. Remember Timmy Jones?”

“He put a dead frog in my lunch box.”

“Jack from high school?”

“He set my locker on fire.”

“How about Dan from first-year biology?”

“He tried to turn me into an anarchist and start a revolution.” I turn to face her. “And Timmy doesn’t count. We were in first grade.”

Amanda sighs. “My point is, the edgy, dangerous guys you liked all wanted to ask you out, but you ran away before they got a chance.”

My fingers curl around the cold, iron railing. “Well, this time I got blindsided by a pink Barbie doll. Just leave it. I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed. And it doesn’t matter. I’m having lunch with Doctor Drake on Monday, and he’s definitely not bland—well, at least not physically.”

“I thought you said he touched you inappropriately.”

“It wasn’t so much inappropriate as it was…protective.” I graciously give Dr. Drake the benefit of the doubt.

“Protective or possessive?”

“Doctor Drake doesn’t want to possess me.” I fold my arms and give her my best scowl.

“Not since he lost the pissing contest.”

“What pissing contest?” Amanda always forgets her experience with men vastly exceeds my own. Vastly with a capital V.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “The one you told me about. Torment and Doctor Drake, sniffing each other out, trying to establish who was top dog.”

“It wasn’t like that. It was just about lunch. And it wasn’t really a contest—”

“I don’t imagine it would have been,” she interjects. “Torment is as alpha as they come. Drake probably ran off with his tail between his legs.”

“Doctor Drake was just being friendly. Charlie says he likes me. He’ll be good for me. Everyone thinks he’s gorgeous. He’s you but a man.”

“Mmm.” Amanda twists her lips. “Then he’ll be amazing in bed.”

“Who’s amazing in bed?” Jake comes up behind Amanda, wraps his arms around her waist, and nuzzles her neck.

Sigh.

“You are, baby.” She grins and wiggles her ass against him.

Jake whispers in her ear and Amanda blushes. For all her feigned indifference, she really likes him. More than any other guy I’ve seen her with. Much more.

“Makayla was asking me about Torment,” Amanda says. “Help her out and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Amanda!”

She gives me a wink and turns in Jake’s arms, planting little kisses along his jaw.

“What do you want to know?” He squeezes her ass and she squeals.

“Name, rank, and serial number,” Amanda murmurs against his lips. “Current girlfriend. Day job. Gossip. That will do for a start.”

Jake moans. “No can do. He’s an intensely private person. If he found out I had spilled his secrets, he would kick me out. Privacy is such a big thing to him, he set up Redemption as an invitation-only club. Even the spectators are screened. They have to have a connection with someone in the club and they have to sign a nondisclosure statement before they are put on the list to receive texts about the events. And it works. Most people don’t even realize he has a real job. They think he works at the club full time. “

Amanda’s eyes narrow. “He has a secret identity?”

Jake shakes his head and swallows. “I didn’t say that. Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“And you know who he is?”

He looks at the floor and shuffles his feet.

Poor guy. She will stop at nothing to get that information from him. He does not even understand the hunger of the beast he has unleashed. He’ll be lucky to escape with his tongue intact.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I almost trip over my feet to get away from them. I step back into the apartment and check my texts. Torment’s name shows up on my Caller ID. Unable to resist, I open the message.

I need you at the club tonight

Ha. I’m sure you do. And that’s all you want from me. I quickly type a response:

No. Sorry. Busy

What are you doing?

I’m having a party **dances** **drinks**

Without me?

Don’t even think about guilt-tripping me. My thumb wavers as I type. I’ve definitely had enough to drink.

U have club things 2 do. Like hurting people

Is the doctor at ur party?

My eyes widen. Is he jealous? Why? He has Pinkaluscious. Why does he care if Dr. Drake is at my party? Should I lie and say yes?