Chapter One

Parker Reinhart made it three steps into the club before wishing she could go back to her living room. The place was packed, and she felt tired simply looking at the scene. A disco ball spun over the crowded dance floor, and a roaming spotlight picked out the drag queens while the DJ cranked an ABBA song. When everyone joined in on the chorus, the plan of chilling in a corner with a drink seemed ridiculous.

Her phone vibrated with a text from Raya: I see you at the door. I know what you’re thinking. Resist the temptation of your sofa!

Parker chuckled and looked around. At the far side of the dance floor, she spotted waving arms and Raya’s pink-tipped black hair. When Raya pulled on an imaginary rope between them, Parker gave in with an exaggerated eye roll.

Once upon a time she’d liked dancing and going out clubbing. That felt like a lifetime ago, but she could still try to enjoy herself tonight. Then hopefully Raya would ease up on getting her a girlfriend.

She skirted around a couple pressed together on the dance floor and weaved through a raucous group with sloshing drinks and booming voices. Energy rippled through the place, and she got a few “heys” from women she passed, along with a butt bump that made her laugh. By the time she made it to Raya and her friends, she didn’t have to force a smile.

“You made it!” Raya greeted her with a hug.

“I did. And get this—two women checked me out.”

“You know, no one can tell you’re a dork just by looking at you. On the outside you look hot.”

Parker laughed. “Thanks?”

Raya took Parker’s hand and tugged her toward the group. “Come meet everyone.”

Raya’s girlfriend, Cam, gave Parker a quick hug and then Raya introduced the others. Most were folks Raya knew through the queer youth center she ran, and Parker lost track of names by the time she was introduced to the fifth person. Then someone brought up Peter Parker and Spider-Man and asked if she’d watched the movies. It wasn’t the first time she’d been told she had a Peter Parker look, and she was relieved when the conversation turned instead to a discussion of Marvel versus DC plots.

After a few minutes, Raya leaned close and whispered, “What do you think about Amari?”

“Who’s Amari again?”

Raya motioned with her chin to the woman who’d asked if she liked Spider-Man. She was attractive but Parker didn’t feel any zing. Then again, she hadn’t felt a zing for anyone in a while. “I’m not looking. You know that.”

Raya pursed her lips. “I think it’d be good for you to have some fun even if you aren’t looking for anything serious.”

“I don’t know if I can do fun anymore.”

“Whatever. You’re fun—and funny. You’ve shut yourself up at home for too long. It’s been what, eight months?”

“Nine.” Since breaking up with the woman she was sure she was going to marry. She felt like a petulant child when she added, “You promised as long as I hung out with people, you’d let up trying to get me out on a date.”

“I know, but check out this crowd.” Raya gestured to the dance floor. “You have to admit there’s a lot of potential here.”

“Potential is the hour before a company starts trading publicly. Not a dance club.” Despite that, she found herself scanning the room. “Honestly, I’m happy single. I swear I’m not…”

A woman caught her gaze. Nirvana T-shirt, ripped jeans, wavy auburn hair, perfect curves, and sculpted features. She wasn’t dancing. She was leaning against a counter along the side wall with a glass of something in one hand and her phone in the other. Parker swallowed, feeling the woman’s eyes travel over her. A definite zing followed.

“You’re not what?” Raya asked.

Parker turned her attention back to Raya, struggling to remember what she’d been saying. “I’m not lonely. I’ve got Juno.”

“You and your cat.” Raya shook her head and rejoined the Marvel versus DC conversation with: “No one is cooler than Batman.”

With Raya distracted, Parker glanced back at the woman in the Nirvana shirt. She’d set down her drink to scroll on her phone, and Parker alternated between keeping up with the conversation Raya and her friends were having and stealing glances back at Nirvana.

A blonde approached the woman, chatted for a minute, then walked away. Right on the blonde’s heels, another woman appeared. White tank top, full-sleeve tattoos, and a backward ballcap. She was dismissed as fast as the blonde but left with a smile on her face. Parker wished she knew what had been said.

When a glass shattered—two drag queens had bumped into each other and one of their drinks collided with the floor—the woman tensed. A spotlight swept across the scene, highlighting the woman’s profile as she watched the commotion, and a protective wave surged through Parker. She looked suddenly so alone. Parker wanted to walk over then, wanted to offer some company, or a distraction at least. But probably she was waiting for someone.

The woman turned away from the drag queens, took a sip of her drink, and caught Parker’s gaze. When Parker didn’t look away, she arched an eyebrow—as if she knew Parker had been watching all along. As if she wasn’t waiting on anyone except Parker. She ran a hand through her hair and shifted back against the counter. The neck of her shirt had been cut out, and as she moved, one shoulder was exposed.

Everything else disappeared then. The crowd, the booming music, Raya and her friends. Even the disco ball. Parker wanted to be the type who could walk up to a beautiful woman in a club. Say all the right things, buy her a drink, maybe even take her home. She could imagine all of it. But that had never been her. When she didn’t make a move, the woman dropped her gaze to her phone and returned to scrolling.

“Fuck.”

Raya looked over at her with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She hadn’t even realized she’d cussed aloud. “Just throwing out random fucks to keep things interesting.” She covered with an eyebrow waggle.

“Okay, there are some reasons why you’re single,” Raya teased.

“I like being single.” Mostly it was true. She was certainly happier without her ex-girlfriend, and life was full and plenty busy. Still… Some nights she wanted more.

She glanced back at the woman in the Nirvana tee and wished again that she was the type to approach a woman in a bar. It hit her then that she wouldn’t be that person until she tried. Right when she’d decided to take a chance, an androgynous redhead in baggy cargo pants approached the woman.

Raya leaned against Parker’s shoulder. “Who are you checking out?”

“Nobody.”

Raya looked doubtful but didn’t press. Instead, she held up her beer. “Are you not drinking?”

“Oh. I forgot.”

Raya laughed. “For someone as smart as you, I don’t know how you make it out there in the world.”

“I don’t go out much. Can I get you a refill?”

“No. I have to be at OneSpace first thing tomorrow.” OneSpace was Raya’s queer youth center. “But when you go to the bar you could try talking to someone.”

“Why?”

Raya shook her head. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m happily hopeless.”

Despite the crowd, the line went fast at the bar and she didn’t have long to think about what she wanted. When it was her turn, the first thing that came to mind was her Starbucks order. Another reason she had no chance with the Nirvana woman. She stared blankly at the bartender before asking, “What do you recommend? I don’t feel like beer.”

“Rum and Coke.” He set a glass in front of her, filled it, and spun to help the next customer.

Rum and Coke wasn’t a drink she’d tried, so she took a small taste, then a proper sip, closing her eyes to savor the sugar buzz.

“Either you really needed that, or it’s way better than what I got.” The hint of a Southern accent caught Parker along with a pair of sky-blue eyes. Up close, Nirvana was even hotter than she’d been from halfway across the room.

“Hi. I mean…Hey. How’s it going?” Not the best opening line by a long shot, but it earned her a gorgeous smile.

The woman stepped closer, possibly only so she wouldn’t have to shout when she asked, “What’d you get?”

Parker held out her drink, wondering what she was thinking even as the woman took a sip. The woman narrowed her eyes, seeming to consider the taste, then took another sip and handed the glass back.

“Too sweet.”

Parker tipped her head. “You had to take two sips to know for sure?”

“I could’ve been wrong,” she said evenly. “And I like taking my time deciding on something.”

The innuendo was obvious, but Parker could hardly believe it. The hottest woman in the club was flirting with her? She straightened up. “Can I get you something else?”

“I’m not staying. I’ve got an early flight.” The woman motioned to the crowd hovering between the dance floor and the door. “I’m waiting for the DJ to play a song everyone likes so I can slip out. I hate pushing my way through.”

Parker nodded, trying to mask her disappointment. So much for the flirting. The music abruptly cut off and the DJ’s voice came over the speakers announcing the start of the drag show. Dancers emptied the floor, and the woman frowned as the route to the door fully disappeared.

As much as she didn’t want Nirvana to leave, Parker said, “There’s another exit out the back. Want me to show you? You do have to go past the bathrooms and some stinky dumpsters.”

The woman crinkled her nose.

“That got a nope.” Parker smiled. “We could wait this out over in that alcove.” She pointed to an empty spot off to the side of the bartender’s counter. “I doubt it’ll be long before everyone’s dancing again.”

“Think it will be more than five minutes?”

“I’ll help get you out of here if it is.”

“Promise?”

Was she asking for more than help leaving? Adrenaline flooded Parker’s veins at the possibility. “Promise.”

As soon as they reached the alcove, the noise level dropped along with the woman’s shoulders. She watched the DJ introduce the drag contestants, and Parker tried to be interested as well.

“Why didn’t you come say hi earlier?” the woman asked, her gaze still on the drag show stage. The first contestant was up.

“I thought about it. I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Parker debated her answer, deciding on the truth over something that would sound better. “I’m not the type to approach someone in a club. I’m not that cool.”

She looked at Parker then, giving her a full once-over. “Yeah, you’re right. Not that cool.”

Parker laughed. “Thanks for confirming you’re out of my league.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to. By the way, I’m Parker.”

“You know I really am leaving as soon as everyone’s back on the dance floor.”

Parker lifted a shoulder. “You’re out of my league anyway.”

“Now I want to stay just to prove you wrong.” She shook her head but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m Madison.”

“Nice to meet you, Madison.” Parker held out her hand.

Madison didn’t shake hands. Instead, she studied Parker. “Let me guess: three dates before you sleep with someone, and you text to make sure she gets home okay?”

“You got all that from me wanting to shake your hand?” Parker chuckled but lowered her hand. Madison reached out to catch it, and a rush sped through Parker as their fingertips brushed and their palms settled into place.

“You should have ordered an old-fashioned,” Madison said.

“You’re right. Three dates.”

“Oh, I knew I was right.” Madison let go and looked to the stage.

Parker wished she could think of something to keep the conversation going. She could feel a connection between them—something she didn’t want to let go of. Unfortunately, all she could think of were questions that wouldn’t matter when the path to the door opened: Was Madison from Phoenix? Was she single? Would she be back?

“What time is your flight?”

“Five a.m.” Madison checked the crowd by the door again. There was still no easy way out.

“I hate early flights. I always try to go to bed early, but I can’t sleep and then I wish I’d spent the time doing something else.” Parker shook her head. “Being in bed not sleeping is the worst.”

“There are better things to do if you’re not sleeping,” Madison said.

“Almost anything, really. I hate watching the news, but I’d even rather do that.”

Madison pressed her lips together and Parker quickly added, “I mean, I wouldn’t actually watch the news in bed.” The news? She blew out a breath. “It didn’t take long to convince you I’m not cool, did it?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I like smart people who pay attention to what’s happening in the world. I think it’s sexy.”

“You think watching the news in bed is sexy? I mean, I won’t judge. Whatever turns you on.”

Madison smiled and pushed Parker’s shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” Parker grinned back at her, wondering if she could take the casual contact to mean what she wanted it to mean. But probably Madison had simply relaxed knowing nothing would happen. “If you won’t be sleeping before your flight anyway, why not stay here? You can not sleep with me.”

Madison opened and closed her mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked to not sleep with someone quite so nicely.”

“I…Shit.” Parker face-palmed. “I didn’t mean sex.”

“I know.” Madison looked like she was trying hard not to laugh. “Old-fashioned much?”

Parker laughed. Another contestant was on stage and a new song had started. Fortunately, the crowd by the door didn’t change. She wanted to convince Madison to stay even if they didn’t have a chance for more than a longer conversation.

“You know one of your friends keeps looking over at us.”

Parker followed Madison’s gaze and saw Raya quickly look away. “That’s Raya. She’s the one who got me out tonight. She’s convinced I’ve been home too much so she’s making me socialize.” She realized how that sounded and added, “I’m not a hermit or anything. I have a job and hobbies I leave the house for.”

“That’s too bad. I have a thing for hermits.” Madison winked. “Your friend sounds like my therapist.”

“Does your therapist try to get you to go to open mic poetry night, too?”

“No, but she did tell me to try writing poetry if I couldn’t talk about my feelings.”

“Been there.” Parker groaned. “Wrote lots of boring poetry.”

“I tried lots of boring sex.”

Parker laughed. “Was that one of your therapist’s suggestions?”

“No. And, surprisingly, it didn’t work.”

“Neither did the poetry. I wish I’d gone the sex route seeing as how we both ended up in the same place.”

Madison’s smile spread across her face. “Maybe the trick is writing poetry about boring sex.”

“Good idea.” Parker pretended to think. “What rhymes with ‘a pathetic attempt to feel valued?’”

The sound of Madison’s laugh filled the space between them. She shifted closer to Parker and said, “You know what’s pathetic? I’m only here tonight because I wanted to be around other queer people.” She paused. “I didn’t come to meet anyone. Or dance. Or even drink.”

“It’s not pathetic to want to be around other queers. We all want to be in a space where we can be ourselves and relax.”

Madison didn’t say anything in response, only watching the crowd, and Parker wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. Right when she’d decided to ask, Madison turned to her and said, “Sex with you wouldn’t be boring.”

“How do you know?”

“I know these things,” Madison said confidently. “And what’s ironic is that the one time I’m sure, I find someone who’s too old-fashioned for me to take home.”

“You could be wrong about the sex anyway.”

“I’m not wrong.” Before Parker could argue, Madison continued. “I can prove it, too.” She bumped Parker’s shoulder. “Want to make a bet?”

Parker chuckled. “How would you even—”

Madison moved to stand in front of Parker. “How would I prove it?” She arched an eyebrow. “Like this.” She touched the center of Parker’s chest, then shifted forward subtly, spreading her hand so her palm pressed fully against Parker.

The world tunneled. Madison’s tongue slipped across her lips as she held Parker captive, blue eyes locked on her.

“Still think sex would be boring?”

Heart hammering, breath stuck in her throat, Parker couldn’t even manage to shake her head. The desire to kiss Madison overwhelmed every other thought. But she knew Madison was only proving a point. “Fuck.”

“Exactly.” Madison shifted back and let her hand slip off Parker. “Sex wouldn’t be boring. But you are old-fashioned. It’s sweet.”

She didn’t want to be sweet. She wanted to go home with a woman she’d just met without knowing anything about her. She wanted to not care if they had anything in common or if they’d ever cross paths again.

A new song came on and a cheer went up from the crowd by the door. As the dance floor began to fill, Parker knew she was out of time. “You didn’t say what we were betting.”

“It didn’t seem fair when I knew I was going to win.”

Parker caught Madison’s smile out of the corner of her eye. Her hormones raged. What was it about this woman? “I don’t want to be old-fashioned.”

“You sure about that? You didn’t try and kiss me when you had the chance.” Madison gave her a knowing look. “Anyway. My loss.” She held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Parker.”