“I’m good. I think I have a wine upstairs. I really am going to the bathroom now that I’m down here.” Hazel started to back up.
“I’ll hang out outside. Hard to stop being protective of our clients, if that’s what you are.” He held out his hand to indicate the direction she should head.
“You know where the bathrooms are?” She was impressed.
“I know where all the visible exits are, too. Second nature.” Peter followed behind her as she walked to the left of the bar.
She saw Wolf's profile by the stairs. He was obviously searching for someone. She ducked into the ladies room and gave herself a few alone moments to gain her composure and try and make a plan for how she was going to move forward.
She washed her hands and checked her makeup. Dancing had added volume to her hair and pink to her cheeks, so she left her face as it was.
Hazel wasn’t leaving on account of Wolf. She was an empowered lady who was allowed to enjoy her orgasms and not have them rule her emotions.
She stepped out of the bathroom to find the very man she'd been steeling herself against there, waiting for her.
Peter was nowhere to be found.
Wolf pushed away from the wall as she came closer. Three guys in the same place giving her the once over should have made her confidence skyrocket, but it just made her nervous.
“Your ex is here,” he warned her.
“Yeah. I saw him. But, you know, he only hurt me the one time, so maybe I should go stand with him. I’ve got better odds with him, statistically speaking, than I do with you.” She saw Peter’s red hair as he bent to listen to a pretty woman talk in his ear.
He looked concerned and touched her wrist. “He works for me. He can’t be interested in you.”
“Okay.” She folded her arms in front of her. “Maybe I’m just friendly. Can’t imagine that, huh? I’m good for more than one thing, Wolfgang.”
“You’re right. I need to start saying no to all the temptations you offer. But I’m only human.” He looked around the restaurant again.
“Oh, because I’m such a tempting whore, right?” Hazel crossed her arms in front of her.
He stopped looking around and pressed her against the wall with his nearness. He ran his hand from the top of her hair to her cheek before stroking his thumb along her jawline.
“It’s because my heart stops when you want me. And I have to touch you to breathe again.” Wolf grazed her bottom lip tenderly.
He wrecked her determination, his words making her brain stumble.
She leveled him with a stare she hoped she'd be proud of later. “Then you better shape up, Wolf.”
He stepped backwards and made room for her as she left to go back upstairs.
Wolf... he was the one who would hurt the worst. Far worse than Scott. Because he felt so right that walking away from him was actually painful.
XOXOXOXO
Wolf watched her walk away with her head held high. And because he couldn’t stop himself, he watched as Peter’s head swiveled around to locate Hazel.
Wolf stepped forward to follow her when Scott, the classless ex, was in front of him. He had to watch Peter leave the honey he was talking to and trot up the stairs behind Hazel.
He adjusted his gaze to take in Scott. “So, it looks like you lucked out. Broke up already?”
The man wasn’t drunk. His eyes were clear.
“We're not together. But that doesn’t open any doors for you.”
“Cool. Because I think you need to step away from her if that’s the case.” Scott put his chin in the air, fight in his eyes.
“She’s a client. We take care of our own.” Wolf moved to step around him.
“And then you roll out when? How long does your sex circus stay in town again?” Scott widened his eyes.
“Sex circus?” Wolf made a fist. “You know what? I think you’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a fuck.”
Before Wolf could take his rage out on Scott’s face, Chance was between them. “Hey. Hey. Hey! Let’s knock this off for a minute.” Chance’s size brings both men down a peg or two without even trying. “Can I get you a drink, son? Let’s go to the bar.” Chance manhandled Scott in a way that gave the man no other choice, the whole time talking to him like they were best buds.
Wolf knew Chance was managing Wolf and his anger. Which was part of the reason he got paid such a large salary. Chance had incredible people skills. Wolf was less inclined in that direction.
He ignored Chance and Scott as he watched them toast mojitos.
Wolf walked through the room and acknowledged a few friendly greetings from the single girls in the crowd. He took the stairs two at a time, ready to fight off Peter one more time when he saw Hazel and Claire slow dancing.
He stepped to the side of the crowd and felt Peter sidle up next to him. “That’s a pretty sight. Is it illegal to put that mental picture in the spank bank?” Peter smiled.
Wolf didn’t say anything else, but inside he was busy not raging at Peter. He needed to stop acting like a rabid version of his nickname. He needed to find some chill.
Chance was at his elbow faster than he expected. “Your friend went home.”
“Awesome. That’s what we use your superpowers for.” Wolf accepted the beer bottle that Chance offered both him and Peter. They toasted to the upcoming wedding, and all three kept their eyes on the girls, who were obviously having a heart-to-heart while swaying to the music.
“I had to offer him a spot on this week’s dating panel for a reduced price,” Chance said when Peter left to play darts on the other side of the rooftop dance floor.
“And now you’re fired.” Wolf smiled wryly into the distance.
“Well, if good ‘ol Scott finds his match, maybe he won’t come sniffing around anymore and you won’t have to deal with the competition. Not that you’re interested in her, of course.” Chance tapped his glass beer bottle to Wolf’s.
“You sneaky-assed Booty Camp ninja.” Wolf took a sip to complete the toast.
“I’ve got skills, brother. Time to realize what you got here.” Chance started dancing as the music picked up.
Wolf refused to acknowledge him, so Chance made his way over to the ladies and started dancing with them both.
Wolf found a high stool by a bar table and started peeling the label off his beer. It was an old habit. He finished his beer and tried to avoid checking Hazel out. The waitress brought another round, and Wolf drank it pretty quickly.
It’d been a while since he'd been in a crowd like this—one that hadn’t paid for the privilege of having him analyze them. There were actually very few good matches in the crowd. There was a reason he was successful at Booty Camp. People had to be open to receive someone else in their life. Chance and Claire had a glorious match. Harmony was the biggest energy they put off.
He looked at Hazel as she held her mojito above her head and shook her ass. She was more open than when he’d met her a few weeks ago. Her energy was less battered. After finding out what she did for a living, he understood the gold energy she had. It took something special to see the potential in all people. To fight for them when they needed a boost. She had that.
Scott had broken her, but she’d healed more than she probably realized when she walked into Booty Camp for the first time. But maybe Wolf was confused. Maybe what he took as needing a match was really her openness to all kinds of people.
He stood up and navigated the dance floor. There was a girl that was in sync, energy wise, with another girl on the side of the dance floor. Both were on the shorter side, so he was willing to bet that one didn’t know the other was even there.
What he was about to do was what his mother and grandmother lived for. For two energies like these to not connect because of the physical barriers between them would be a goddamned shame.
He approached the one lady, who watched him with a wary face. Obviously, men weren’t her type, but that probably didn’t stop them from trying to get with her o
n a night like this. She was very pretty.
He leaned down and whispered, “If I could tell you that the person who could make your future complete was here tonight, how would you feel about that?”
She looked over the dance floor. “I doubt she’s here.” The woman met his eyes, letting the information that she was gay sink in.
“She’s here. And I don’t know if she knows she’s looking for you, either. If you feel me.” Wolf held out his hand.
Recognition swept across her wary face. “You mean she needs to meet the right person?”
“And you’re that person. If we move quickly enough.” Wolf looked at his own hand. “What’s your name?”
“Brenda.” She took his hand. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Know that I can kick your ass if this is some shitty trick.”
“It’s not. You’re a better judge of people than you give yourself credit for.” Wolf led the way, finding the small blonde in the corner with her friends.
Wolf interrupted the conversation. He got a little tongue-tied. This was why he preferred matchmaking in the more scientific method. It felt so… personal when he made a match like this. He’d done it so few times.
“Can I talk to you?” Wolf held his hand out to her. She gave him a look that clearly said fuck you until she saw Brenda.
He watched as the breath left her lungs. She took his hand, and he felt a bolt of electricity go through him. From one woman to the other. No one would ever see it or know it. But it recharged Wolf all over again.
He felt his ancestors then. The bubble around the three of them was almost mystical. Thrilling, for sure.
Wolf led them through the crowd and below so they could get to know each other where the music wasn’t so loud.
He peeked over his shoulder at them and they were both blushing.
By the time he got them downstairs and ordered them each a glass of champagne, Wolf could have fallen off the planet and they would never have noticed.
He was standing between them the moment they fell in love. He would always be a part of their origin story.
Wolf backed away and watched from a distance for a minute.
They were glowing, the two of them. Brenda and the blonde—her name was Samantha—had gone from a singular to a plural because he'd recognized that they belonged together.
He turned to go back upstairs, wanting Hazel in his arms. Fuck his own rules. She made him feel like he wanted to be a plural, too.
When he got to the top of the stairs, he couldn’t find her. He saw Peter.. Claire and Chance were snuggling, but Hazel was gone.
Chapter 25
Broken
Hazel sat in the back of the cab. No tears anymore. No feeling anymore. To see Wolf take not one, but two women downstairs told her all she needed to know about him.
He was great in bed, of that she was sure. But that wasn’t enough to keep stabbing herself in the heart with disappointment for.
Enough was enough. For real this time. He was a player and a user. He talked a great game. But she was betting that was his thing. Like a traveling salesman with a girl in every port, he could charm and infuriate her all day until his shit show moved to the next city.
It was time to let time do its work on her. Fix what she had broken by trusting two douchebag men.
She paid the cab driver when she got to her apartment building. The rain started as she dashed to the front door.
After Hazel was in her building and out of her elevator, she fielded another text from Claire, who'd understood when she saw how devastated Hazel had been by Wolf leading two women downstairs like Mick Jagger in his heyday.
She even helped Hazel find the side stairs off the rooftop that were obviously only for emergencies.
And getting away had been an emergency.
Hazel locked her door and went into her apartment. She wasn’t leaving it until work on Monday. She had her money back. Scott was out of her life, and now Wolf was, too.
Hazel went to her fridge and grabbed the wine she didn’t need. She had to get out of her boots. Her feet wanted to die and kiss her after they were free. Those were not dancing boots.
Hazel drew herself a nice hot bath with bubbles and picked her favorite playlist from her phone. She set her wineglass on the edge of the tub, dropped her outfit on the floor, and slipped into the bath.
She refused to cry about that man one more time.
Hazel rested low in the bubbles before dunking her head under the water. She would have to toss in the leave-in conditioner after she was done.
That mundane thought comforted her. Because hair needed to be conditioned.
Men didn’t need their dicks sucked. And maybe her upside-down orgasms with Wolf were important, but her hair wouldn’t suffer if she forgot to do that act.
She got through four songs before the water turned tepid, so she ran the shower to rinse off and apply her conditioner.
His touch was gone now. Again.
She put on her softest sleep shorts and her sleep tank and worked a brush through her long hair. It was a soothing habit. After that, there was moisturizer.
So many things to keep her busy. Hazel checked her messages and saw that Claire had sent a few, which she responded to. She distracted Claire with ideas about the upcoming wedding and a promise to spend some serious Pinterest time together.
Another text popped up from a number she didn’t recognize.
You ran. I thought we had a moment.
She knew it was Wolf, but two could play at being a dickhead.
Sorry. Is this Scott, Peter, or Grant?
Hazel didn’t know a Grant, but that was fine.
Now you’re just making me jealous for no damn reason.
Don’t know who this is, so I’m blocking this number.
No. Don’t. It’s me. Wolf.
Now I’m really blocking this number.
How could you leave without telling me?
She was three clicks away from blocking him. But her rage flared up despite all her everyday tasks designed to calm her down.
It was hard to get in there between and your two bitches.
Then she blocked him.
Fuck him.
Well, no. No fucking him.
He was a dick face. Dickey McDickface, and her father did not raise a daughter to be a booty call for a douche banana with a dumb business named Booty Camp.
Hazel looked at the ceiling as her traitorous memory brought up the counterargument of his kisses. And his fingers. And his mouth. And the moment outside the bathroom where he legit seemed devastated by the presence of her.
A new number beeped through.
They weren’t my bitches.
Oh for fuck’s sake. Whose phone did you steal? Blocking this number.
She did just that.
Claire popped through again with a picture of a picture from the internet showing a pretty melon-colored table display.
Hazel typed an idea.
Hey if you can get a big screen, you should do a slideshow of pictures of you guys.
Claire was super excited about the idea and they traded favorite songs until another number popped up.
I was making a match. You inspired me.
She took a picture of her middle finger and sent it to the number before she blocked it.
Claire sent a picture of some bouquets. Very pretty white roses.
Another unknown number popped up.
I’m running out of humans I can demand a phone from. The girls were together. As a match. They were meant for each other. The ladies you saw me with.
Hazel swallowed. She interacted with Claire a few more times but didn’t block the last number right away.
Again it forced itself on her screen.
I meant what I said to you. You’re exceptional. You’re the reason I made a match just for the sake of making one. Instead of for profit.
She ignored the message and went back to texting Claire, commenting on the bouquet suggestions she had.
>
Seeing Claire in her dress tonight really made it hit home that her best friend was getting married. She'd always expected to double date with Claire and a boyfriend for a few more years. Never a whirlwind situation for her practical, but crazy friend.
I want to see you.
She tossed her wet hair around and pulled it into a loose bun on top of her head.
Did you block this number?
She let her phone sit on her lap and took another sip of her wine. He was asking to be invited back into her hopes.
Shit. Now I have to steal a phone.
She picked up the phone and typed.
Not blocked.
That’s good. Can you feel me smiling? That’s really good.
She pictured the dimple hinting on the side of his white smile.
Don’t throw yourself a parade yet.
Can I come by your place?
You’re too forward.
You know what? I understand that. That’s fine. I’ll trade phones with this girl forever because I want to remain unblocked.
Hazel laughed and bit her lips shut. He was worming his way back in. She sucked at setting boundaries.
Though I would really appreciate it if you would unblock the first number because I don’t have my mom’s number memorized and I could get in a lot of trouble if I never speak to her again. She’s already pretty pissed at me anyway, though.
Hazel unlocked her phone and unblocked the first number.
She texted him the word:
Fine.
Then she named him Humping Wolf Pup in her contacts and sent him a screen shot so he could see what she’d done on her phone.