Login via

No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 62

ROMAN’S POV

A few minutes ago, I was trying to escape the clingy grip of a girl I barely knew. She had latched onto me the moment I stepped through the entrance of the club, acting like we had been close for years. In reality, I had only exchanged a couple of words with her outside before walking in. Since then, she had been glued to my side, laughing too loudly, brushing against me every chance she got, and making it painfully clear what she wanted. Money and sex. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was the same old story, the same routine I had grown sick of. Everywhere I went, I met the same type of woman. Beautiful faces, perfect bodies, fake laughs. They didn’t care about who I was beyond the thickness of my wallet or what I could offer them in bed. They wanted status, expensive dinners, shopping sprees, and a night of bragging rights that they had been with Roman Hale. None of it felt real. None of it touched me in any meaningful way.

But right now, sitting a few steps away, was a woman who shattered that boring pattern.

The lady I was staring at didn’t look like the rest of them. She was without exaggeration the most beautiful human being I had laid my eyes on this entire week. Her beauty wasn’t loud or attention-hungry, it was effortless. Her skin seemed to glow under the dim club lights, smooth and radiant as if the world itself had decided to spotlight her. The dress she wore wasn’t the kind that screamed for attention either; it was elegant, perfectly fitted, and complemented her curves without trying too hard. She had this aura that made her stand out not just because of how she looked, but because of how she carried herself.

Unlike every other woman here, she wasn’t trying to drag me closer. She was doing the exact opposite, pushing me away. And for someone like me, who had grown used to being chased, that resistance only made me more interested.

She finally spoke, her voice soft but steady, and I felt my curiosity spike even higher.

“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head with a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not tough in any way. You see that lady dancing over there? She’s my friend, the one who dragged me here tonight. It only took her five shots to get drunk, and just like her, I don’t have much tolerance for alcohol either. If she’s drunk and I’m drunk, then who’s going to take us home?” Lauren explained.

Her honesty struck me. No pretenses. No attempt to act like she could handle anything just to impress me. She was straightforward, and that was refreshing.

“From the looks of it, you worry too much,” I said, leaning closer so she could hear me above the music. “And that’s not a good thing. You can’t tell me you came here, to a club like this, just to sit here alone and sip juice the whole night. I saw the way you looked at that shot, it wasn’t just a glance. You wanted to taste it. That’s probably why you’ve been drinking so much juice, to keep your mouth occupied and distract yourself from what you really want.”

I watched her carefully, hoping my words would spark something in her.

Her glass of orange juice was already empty, and I noticed the way her throat moved as she swallowed hard. Her eyes, despite her protests, kept wandering back to the line of shots on the table, glistening like they were daring her to take a sip. It was written all over her, her mind was fighting her body.

I picked up one of the tiny glasses between my fingers, holding it in front of her like an offering.

“Tomorrow isn’t certain,” I said slowly, letting the words linger. “You have to make sure you always live in the moment. Have as much fun as you can, so that when your time finally comes, you won’t look back with regrets. Life’s too short to always be safe, Lauren.”

Her name slipped from my lips naturally, and I caught the quick flicker of surprise in her eyes that I remembered it. Then, without giving her a chance to argue, I tilted my head back and downed the shot in a single gulp. The liquid burned its way down my throat, fiery and sharp, but I welcomed the sting.

“Ahhh,” I exhaled, setting the glass down with a small smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “I went. Now it’s your turn.”

Her gaze stayed fixed on the shots lined up in front of her, and I could still see the battle raging inside her. I knew her mind was screaming reasons why she shouldn’t do it, why it was irresponsible, unnecessary, dangerous even but her body? Her body betrayed her. Her lips parted, her fingers twitched, and her eyes lingered.

She was fighting the urge not to drink it, but temptation had already wrapped its fingers around her.

And in most cases, the body usually wins. No matter how much the mind argues, no matter how strong a person believes they are, when the body desires something, it eventually gets its way. I could see it happening right before my eyes. Lauren’s hand, which had hovered indecisively above the polished wooden bar for what felt like forever, finally settled on a glass.

Then, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she looked at me squarely and declared, “More of these.”

I blinked, raising my eyebrows in surprise. A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Wait a second,” I said, shaking my head. “Didn’t you just say you weren’t going past five? And now you’re demanding more?”

Lauren only shrugged, her expression daring me to challenge her.

The bartender, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding before him, slid ten fresh shots our way with a knowing smirk. The glasses lined up neatly in front of her like soldiers ready for battle.

And without hesitation, Lauren began to drink.

She went at it with a kind of wild abandon, like a beast that had finally been set free from its cage. One glass after another disappeared, her laughter growing louder, her words beginning to slur as the alcohol coursed through her veins. It was as though the side of her she had been hiding, the reckless, impulsive side had finally clawed its way to the surface.

“Hey, hey,” I said quickly, leaning toward her, my voice laced with both amusement and concern. “You should take it easy. At this rate, you’re actually going to get drunk.”

Lauren turned her head to look at me, her expression bold but her eyelids just a little too heavy. “Weren’t you the one who told me to let loose and live in the moment? I’m doing exactly that, so what’s wrong?” Her voice had grown a touch drowsy, her words dragging slightly, betraying the alcohol already taking hold of her.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yes, I did,” I admitted, unable to keep the smile from tugging at my lips. “And we also both agreed that we were gonna take it easy. But now…” I shook my head slowly, watching her wobble as she reached for another glass, “…now you’ve gotten yourself drunk.” I said to her.

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan)