Damn my fair, red-headed complexion, because the flush creeping up my neck and spreading across my face is probably visible for all to see. I watch him disappear into the crowd, disappointed he doesn’t look back.The man is beautiful. A perfect specimen of raw masculinity. He’s rough-mannered and tattooed, but damn, he has enough charm to take all the edges off what might otherwise be an intimidating presence.And wow, that little show of force with the guy who was bugging me? Total turn-on. I’ve always had a thing for heroes. I turn my head to catch the eyes of the other two dancers on shift tonight and the three of us go into a pre-arranged combination, changing from freestyle to synchronized movement. Talya and Remy are both a little bit drunk, but we all know this routine so well we could do it in our sleep. Plus, professional or semi-professional dancers like us, with the amount of training in our bodies, can make anything look purposeful and c

I don’t know if all the screams are mine. Someone whimpers in the back seat. That would be Remy. Talya’s in the front seat beside me. Yeah, she’sscreaming, too.I clamp my lips shut to stop the terrible sound and force my brain to work. I hit something. Someone.Oh God. I just hit a motorcycle.I lurch out of the car and stumble around to the front. The impact crushed my front grill, crumpling the hood. One of my headlights is out—broken by the impact. The remaining one casts an eerie beam over the horrible scene. A huge motorcycle is on its side in front of the car, but the rider—Please don’t let him be under the car.A pitiful whimper comes out of my throat. I drop to my knees to peer under the carriage, but I can’t see anything.Talya and Remy tumble out of the vehicle, too. They were drunk when we left Eclipse. We’d be home by now, except Talya made me wait to drive home until the car stop