My Secret Wolf King

Aria

“You really broke up with your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day? Why?”

“He’s married.” I tilted my head back and swallowed the shot of tequila. It burned going down, numbing my senses, but that was exactly what I wanted tonight.

“What?!”

I sighed, suddenly grateful that the thrumming music was loud enough to drown out my friend’s outburst. I could see her gesturing wildly, shouting something about ‘bastards’ and ‘playboys’, but I could barely hear her. Not that I would have been able to, anyway.

After all, my mind was still stuck on last night.

It really had been a perfect Valentine’s Day. My boyfriend, Jackson, had taken me out for a nice dinner, bought me flowers and chocolates and a bottle of wine, and then we had come back to my place for some seriously amazing sex.

But it was then, as his phone began to ring while he was in the shower, that everything changed.

“The caller ID said ‘Boss Lady’,” I explained to Bella, who was too drunk to hold her head up

straight by now. “I figured it was someone from work—you know how seriously he takes his

job—so I picked up for him, just in case.”

Bella hiccuped, pushing a strand of jet black hair out of her big brown eyes. “And?”

“And…” I sighed, reaching for another shot glass. “It was his wife.”

My friend—best friend, I should say, considering the fact that Bella and I had been inseparable since we were teenagers—practically fell off her barstool. “I hope she didn’t blame you for everything.”

I knocked back another shot of tequila.

“She didn’t. Because they were clearly in an ‘open marriage’. His wife even knew about me before I knew about her.”

I didn’t mention how Jackson’s wife sounded horribly lovesick over the phone, asking when he would be ‘done’ with me so they could celebrate Valentine’s Day ‘properly’. Clearly, there were some unresolved feelings there.

But she knew about me, regardless of how she truly felt about their little arrangement.

And I had been played for a fool.

“What happened after that?” Bella asked, taking another shot of her own.

Standing at four inches shorter than me and about ninety-five pounds soaking wet, she was definitely the lightweight between the two of us. I knew I’d likely be scraping her up off the floor by the time we left, but I didn’t mind. It was why I had invited her out tonight; Bella knew how to have fun, and I needed fun right now.

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Get this: Jackson actually wanted us to stay together. He said he ‘really loved me’, that he only didn’t tell me about his wife because I’m ‘too serious’.”

Bella’s mouth lifted into the barest hint of a smirk. “I take it his shit ended up on the sidewalk.”

I couldn’t help but smirk myself. “You know me too well, Bella.” My friend grinned impishly, and I added, “It just sucks, you know? Finally, I thought I found ‘the one’. I was planning on asking him to move in and get a fucking dog together. Seriously.”

My friend sighed and put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into her and blinked quickly in an attempt to quell the tears that were threatening to come. “Screw him, okay?” she said. “He’s trash.”

“I just wish—”

“Oh, no.” My friend leaned back, eyes flashing with that fiery intensity that I loved so much as she jammed a finger into my chest. “I know where this is going. Don’t you dare wallow, Aria White. Do you understand me?”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.” Bella leapt to her feet and grabbed me by the wrist, hauling me off of my barstool with surprising strength despite her petite form. Planting both hands firmly into my back, she began wheeling me toward the dance floor.

“You always do this, Aria!” she shouted over the pumping music. “You always wallow after every breakup, and I’m sick of it! I’m not gonna let you mope around over some jackass!”

Despite my pain, I couldn’t help but laugh at Bella’s attitude. We stopped in the middle of the dance floor, and Bella turned, gesturing to the groups of guys dancing to the bass-heavy music.

“With your body, I’d bet my entire paycheck that any of the guys in here would happily make out with you,” Bella shouted into my ear as we began to dance together. “Hell, I bet you wouldn’t even have to ask! You could just walk up and kiss them!”

I felt my face flush at the thought. I was tall for a girl and a bit lanky, with wide hips, mousy brown hair, and green eyes that were just a little too big for my face—not to mention the freckles covering my nose and cheeks.

In my head, I looked like an awkward teenager, not the type of girl who could walk up to random guys and make out with them at the club.

“Come on, Bella,” I said, waving my hand at my friend. “Don’t be silly.”

Bella wrinkled her nose. “Look, not that I’m agreeing with that asshole, but he was right about one thing: you can be a little… you know.”

I frowned and stopped dancing. “A little what, Bella?”

Huffing, Bella gestured to my stance—my arms folded across my chest, my back rigid, my chin dipped down so that I was practically looking at her through my eyebrows despite the fact that I was so much taller than her.

She didn’t need to say it for me to know what she was implying.

“I know I can be serious,” I said, dropping my arms back to my sides. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I like my personality just fine.”

Bella shook her head. “No one is asking you to change your whole personality. But would it kill you to loosen up a little? The whole time we’ve been on the dance floor, you’ve looked like you’d rather be literally anywhere else.”

There was no arguing that; Bella had been the one to pick this place, not me. “I’m just not really the dancey type,” I replied. “Nor am I the kissing random strangers type.”

“Well, it’s either that or skydiving,” Bella grinned, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m not letting you leave here until you do something exciting. Something to take your mind off of that asshole.” I shot my friend a withering glare, and she clasped her hands together and batted her eyelashes up at me.

Dammit, I thought. Bella always knew exactly how to get me to do what she wanted to do, and besides, that last shot of tequila was beginning to hit. My body was starting to feel loose and warm, and maybe, just maybe…

But looking around, I didn’t see a single person who was my type; mostly just college frat boys with backwards baseball caps and vodka cranberries spilled down the fronts of their shirts.

There was a VIP lounge upstairs, but we peasants were clearly not allowed in. Even if there were interesting people upstairs, I wouldn't know.

“I’m not kissing anyone here,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

Bella rolled her eyes and gestured to the door. “How about the next guy who walks in?”

“No, Bella. No way—”

“C’mon! Prove Jackson wrong!” Bella was already pushing me toward the door.

“What if he’s ugly?!” I shouted over my shoulder.

My friend just giggled. “That’s part of the thrill, isn’t it?” I shot her another glare, and she added, “It’s just one kiss.”

I really must have been getting drunk now, because a little part of me knew that she was right—it was just one kiss. What was the worst that could happen?

“Fine,” I said, stopping by the bar for another shot. “But I need another drink first. And I’m vetoing if he’s ugly.”

“Fair enough.”

We grabbed another round of shots, clinking the tiny cups together before downing them. This time, the liquid burned significantly less going down, and I knew I really was in trouble—because Bella’s idea really wasn’t seeming so bad after all.

One kiss, just to get out of wallowing over my ex and prove that I wasn’t too ‘serious’... I could manage that.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the door opened. I barely got a glimpse at the guy who entered—aside from a full head of long raven hair—before Bella was suddenly propelling me forward again.

Oh, God. I can’t believe I’m—

Don’t think, Aria! Just act!

Before I could protest my own thoughts, my lips were on his.

It shouldn’t have been more than a peck—plausible deniability and all that. But then a strong arm was wrapping around me and tugging me closer, and something about his lips was electric, and suddenly I was wanting more, more, more.

When we finally parted for air, I opened my eyes, mouth slightly open, and…

Good lord, he was handsome.

And just as shocked as I was, if the flustered expression on his chiseled face was any indication.

Before either of us could speak, another man, a blond with close-cropped hair, stepped between us.

“What are you doing?” the blond guy growled at me before whirling to face the other man. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know she was going to do that.”

I looked back at the handsome man, and his eyes—one blue and one brown, shocking in the dim light—were roving over me… scrutinizing me.

And it was then, as I took in his perfectly-tailored suit and the Rolex on his wrist, that it hit me.

I just kissed a VIP.