POV: Naomi
The moment I stepped into the bar, the noise hit me like a wall.
Music blasted through the speakers, the bass heavy enough to vibrate through the floor of the bar. Neon lights flickered across the room, casting strange colors over faces—red, blue, purple. The smell of alcohol mixed with smoke lingered in the air.
Same place.
Same chaos.
Same headache waiting to happen.
It was always like that every single night and I still wasn't used to it.
I exhaled slowly and walked straight to the bar where Joe was standing, wiping a glass like he had no worries in the world.
“Joe,” I called, my voice already sharp.
He looked up with a smile.
This stupid man had the nerve to smile.
“Ah, Naomi—”
“Why the hell did you ask me to wear a skirt?” I cut in immediately, stopping right i
