Chapter 1
Sexiest Man Alive

"Men suck," I grumbled as the vodka tonic burned its way down my throat. Determined to drown my sorrows tonight, I was ready to get wasted.

"Now, hold on, Meg pie. Don't lump us men all together with your scum of the earth, cheating ex-boyfriend. Some of us are pretty decent," Patrick Hanson, a.k.a Pat, my best friend since kindergarten, tried in vain to console me.

"No, you all suck."

Pat clutched his chest playfully. "Ouch, that hurts. And after all we've been through."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help my laughter. "Okay, I guess some of you are okay."

"Atta girl." He slung his arm around my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "Don't you worry, tonight, we'll find you one of those nice guys."

"Nope. I'm done with relationships," I declared, waving toward the bartender for another vodka tonic.

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Pat raised his perfectly manicured brow. "What you need right now is not another relationship. What you need is one night of mind-blowing sex with strangers that you won't see again tomorrow."

My face scrunched up, partly because of the alcohol and partly because of Pat's ridiculous idea. "You know me, Pat. I'm not that kind of girl."

"I know you're not. But hear me out, okay?" My nod was all he needed to continue. "Casual relationship could be just as fulfilling. You like having sex, right?" I nodded again; I wasn't ashamed about it. "And you said James wasn't always good in that department?"

"Oh, he couldn't find a pleasure zone if it were flashing neon," I scoffed.

"I have a feeling he's bad. He always struck me as a selfish lover, you know." Pat chuckled. "Anyway, back to my point—casual relationship is great because you've got to have mind-blowing sex without worrying about long-term expectations or feelings, or any of that crap. Trust me, you'll have a lot of fun. And honey, you deserve it."

"But these are strangers, Pat. How would I know if they're better than James or not?"

"Oh, believe me, Meg pie. I can tell," he said with a smug grin. "When it comes to this thing, Pat is always right."

I nudged him lightly with my elbow. "It always creeps me out when you start talking in the third person, you know."

"But you know I'm right."

I sighed. As much as I hated to admit it, Pat was right. He could always tell if someone was good in bed or not. It was like a creepy superpower that he had. Also, one of the superpowers that allowed him to be always sexually satisfied after one night of dating strangers he just met.

A pang of envy surged through me. Damn it, I too craved a night of unbridled passion and orgasms. Pat was right; I deserved it.

"Alright, find me the right man."

A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of his lips at my surrender. "I already have. Three o'clock. The handsome guy sitting alone."

My eyes followed his instruction, finding the man Pat had mention.

Damn it, Pat was too good at this.

The guy sat alone on one of the small tables near the stage, not too far from our table. From this distance, I was able to see his sharp jawline, accentuated by a hint of rugged stubble, that gave him a rugged allure. His icy blue eyes scanned the room with a keen, observant gaze, as if he was always ready for any possible threat. Thick, dark eyebrows framed those piercing eyes, adding to his strong and determined expression.

His hair was a tousled mess of chestnut brown, as though he had been running his fingers through it. It only added to his rugged charm. As he sipped his drink, I caught a glimpse of a scar on his left cheek.

He exuded a quiet confidence, the kind that came from someone who had faced and conquered the horrors of the world. A leather jacket adorned his broad shoulders, adding to the air of mystery and strength that surrounded him. It was as if he had stepped straight out of a thrilling action movie, a lone hero ready to take on any challenge that came his way.

My eyes lingered on him longer than I was proud to admit. I couldn't help but feel a mix of fascination and intrigue. There was something undeniably captivating about him, and it was not just his looks, although he was undeniably one of the sexiest man I had ever laid eyes on.

"I see you like my choice," Pat's voice exuded smugness. Reluctantly, I shifted my attention back to my best friend.

"He's... ugh, he's positively captivating," I admitted, snatching Pat's glass of cola and gulping it down in one go. Why did the temperature suddenly shoot up in here?

"Go and talk to the guy." Pat urged after taking back his glass.

"I don't know Pat.'" I suddenly felt like weed next to a rose. "I mean look at the guy, he's clearly out of my league."

Displeasure crept into Pat's expression at my self-deprecating words "Oh no, don't you go there Megumi Feliza Sakamoto-Lewis." Ah, here comes the full name. He only reserved it for important situations on account of how long my full name was. "You know you're drop-dead gorgeous. And if you can't see it, I will gladly smack you in your beautiful face until you accept reality."

I couldn't help but laugh at Pat's colorful threat. He might be only saying that because he was my best friend, but I was still grateful for his unwavering support and faith in me. His words were a much-needed boost to my self-esteem, reminding me that I deserved to feel confident and beautiful.

"Thanks, Pat. You're the absolute best," I said, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek. "Wish me luck."

Pat smiled gently. "Luck? Nah, forget that, Meg pie. The handsome hunk would be damn lucky to have you tonight."

Filled with a newfound surge of confidence, I rose from my seat and made my way toward the guy. However, it seemed I was not the first woman in the bar who had the idea. A tall, curvy blonde and a petite brunette had already settled at his table. Although the frown of displeasure on his face made it clear that their presence was not welcome.

"Not interested," He uttered dismissively. His icy glare promptly sent the two women away, cursing at him.

Damn. If those two beautiful ladies couldn't get his attention, what chance did I have? From the sad look in his eyes, I gathered he wasn't here to pick up ladies. Maybe he had the same idea as me -in the beginning at least. Maybe he was here to drown his sorrow in alcohol.

I must have stared at him too long because his eyes suddenly raised from the amber liquid in his glass and found me.

A peculiar sensation coursed through me, an electric spark igniting an undeniable chemistry between us. The bustling noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving only him and me at that moment.

His features subtly transformed, softening like a warm breeze on a cold winter's day. The once guarded expression melted into a glimmer of tenderness, as if my gaze had offered him comfort and familiarity.

Lost in the unspoken exchange, I couldn't help but offer a small, tentative smile. To my surprise, he returned it with a faint one of his own, and in that brief moment, I felt like the luckiest woman on earth.

The man rose from his seat, moving with deliberate steps in my direction. He came to a stop right in front of me, our proximity felt almost magnetic. I could see the gold flecks in his captivating blue eyes, the slight crease of tiredness under his eyes, the subtle cleft in his chin, and his full lower lip. He looked exhausted, but gorgeous nonetheless.

He moved closer, his lips almost brushing against my ear, and I felt his warm breath send shivers down my spine.

"How come your hair has grown this long?" he whispered, his voice deep and low, as his fingers delicately entwined with the tips of my hair, twirling it tenderly.

I tilted my head. "Excuse me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of breathlessness.

"The last time I saw you," he began, his tone rich and velvety, "you had your hair right about here." His fingers brushed my chin ever so tenderly. "And now," he continued, his touch trailing down my body, igniting a trail of fervent anticipation, "it's all the way here." His fingertips found the small of my back. The thin material of my blouse offered no reprieve from the searing intensity of his touch.

But as his words sank in, disappointment and embarrassment washed over me. It became clear that this guy had mistaken me for someone else—someone who looked like me, probably Asian, and had short hair.

Trying to compose myself, I took a step back, putting a bit of distance between us. "I think you have me mistaken for someone else," I said, my voice carrying a hint of sadness.

The intensity in his eyes seemed to fade as he gave me a hard and long look. His jaw tightened noticeably, and it was evident that he, too, had come to the same realization.

"Oh, sorry about that," he replied, his voice now tinged with tension.

I found myself torn between laughter and tears. Crying felt too pathetic, so I settled for the former, trying to find humor in the awkwardness of the moment.

The man's cheeks flushed slightly, a mix of embarrassment and amusement evident in his expression. "Well, I'm glad you find this situation funny," he said dryly. "I, on the other hand, would love for the floor to open up so I can throw myself in it."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad," I teased. "You're quite smooth, actually. And your voice is incredibly sexy, which definitely helps."

He chuckled in response. "You think my voice is sexy?"

"Your voice, your face, your arms, your hair—my god, you're just so sexy," the compliments slipped out of my mouth without any filter. I must have been drunker than I thought.

To my relief, the hot man didn't seem to be creeped out by it. Instead, he offered me a small smile and gestured toward his table. "Why don't you join me? Let me buy you a drink, you know, to make up for mistaking you for someone else."

I couldn't contain my smile. "I would love that."

He pulled out a chair for me, and I offered a grateful nod of thanks as I sat. "So, who's the girl you mistook me for?" I couldn't help but ask, feeling a twinge of jealousy creeping up within me. I quickly scolded myself, trying to quell the unwelcome emotion.

"No one." He answered as he took a seat in front of me, his eyes briefly flickering with a hint of sadness. "Just a girl I thought I like."

I wanted to ask him more about the girl, to understand why he looked so sad when he spoke about her. But it was apparent that he didn't want to talk about her, and I decided to respect his boundary. I wasn't here to make friends or delve into personal matters anyway—I had a single goal in mind.

I didn't know how to start; this was going to be my first time propositioning someone for a one-night stand. What if he wasn't interested?

My palm started sweating, and my brain went into overdrive, trying to think of anything to say when the guy opened his mouth.

"I'm Leon, by the way."

Oh, right, we hadn't even introduced ourselves. "I'm Meg."

"Meg? Was it short for something?" he inquired, his blue eyes curious and captivating.

"Megumi." I affirmed. My eyes seemingly couldn't find better thing to look at aside from the man before me.

"Japanese?"

I nodded.

"Means blessing and grace. I'd say your name fits you perfectly, Meg."

My cheeks heated. Not only did he know what my name meant, but the way he said it felt like a soft caress, gently tracing down my spine, filling me with a tingling sensation of delight.

"T-thanks."

A mischievous glimmer danced in his eyes as he flashed me a flirty smile. "You're welcome."

Just then, the waitress stopped by, her eyes lingering on Leon for a beat too long as she batted her impossibly long eyelashes. "Can I top off your drink?"

"Yeah, one more round," he replied without taking his eyes off me. "And you?"

"Oh, I'll just have a soda." Cutting myself off seemed like a good idea.

The waitress huffed and shot me a disdainful look before walking away.

I couldn't help but find amusement in her reaction. A soft chuckle escaped my lips, and I covered my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to stifle the laughter that threatened to bubble out.

Leon looked at me curiously, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's so funny?"

"Just thinking that she is totally going to spit in my drinks."

Leon chuckled, his laughter blending with mine. "Yeah, she definitely will."

As our laughter subsided, we slipped into an effortless rhythm of conversation, delving into a world of random topics and meandering discussions. Yet, in the midst of it all, I found myself savoring every second spent with him, cherishing each passing moment I had with this beautiful stranger.

"So, Meg," he said after finishing a story about the best pizza he had ever eaten in New York, "what brings you to a place like this tonight?"

I shrugged, trying to be casual. "Oh, you know, just in the mood for a little adventure and excitement," I replied with a sly grin. "And what about you? Are you here to drown your sorrows or just out for a fun night?"

Leon's eyes flickered with a hint of something deeper. "A little bit of both, I suppose," he said cryptically. "Sometimes, it's nice to escape reality for a while."

"Yeah, reality can be a buzzkill. But hey, who needs that when I can be here, flirting with a hot guy, instead of wallowing at home over my cheating ex who is terrible in bed and stuffing my face with an entire tub of ice cream?"

In front of me, Leon chuckled softly, his amusement evident in the glimmer of his eyes and the gentle curve of his lips. "Is that so?"

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Oh, crap. Did I really say that out loud?

Luckily the waitress came back with our drink, still shooting me nasty looks. Leon and I exchanged amused glances at our untouched drinks.

But then, he leaned in closer, his voice dipping lower and sending a shiver down my spine. "Well then, Meg," he said, his eyes filled with heat, "why don't we leave our totally spit-free drinks behind and escape our reality somewhere else?"