Prologue

- Nashville, Tennessee

Would you call me crazy if I told you I was sitting at a bar nursing an old fashioned and waiting for my one-night stand to walk through the door?

It's been one month since that night with Wyla, and fuck if I can't get her out of my head. Something about her pulled me in from the moment we met, and I wasn't sure I ever wanted to be let go.

But I'm an idiot who let her believe that it could only be for one night. I believe it was sometime around three in the morning that I realized how fucking stupid only one night with her was. I wanted all of her nights. I was determined to see her again, but I guess she didn't feel the same because I woke up alone later that morning.

With another small sip, I see someone slide onto the barstool next to me .

"Drinking alone, hotshot?" A blonde woman, with what most people would call attractive features, places her hand on my thigh.

I pull my leg to the side. "I am."

One-night stands aren't supposed to absolutely wreck your mind—or your dick, really. But Wyla has taken over both, getting over her seems impossible.

A month.

It's been a fucking month, and I still hear her moans in my ear. I hear her laugh, see her smile, and dream about her all the damn time.

I look at this woman next to me—whose hand most men would probably love to have on their thigh—and I feel absolutely nothing. Honestly, I'm kind of annoyed.

"Drinking alone is no fun. You look like you need some entertainment." Her bright red lips pull into what should be a pretty smile, but it pales in comparison to my Wyla's.

"Look, I don't mean to come off rude, but I'm not interested. I have a girl."

"Alright, suit yourself. Come find me if you change your mind."

I see her slide off the stool out of the corner of my eye. Another glance her way isn't even tempting.

What is wrong with me? I have a girl ? Not technically, but damn if it doesn't feel wrong to say that I don't .

I can't really put all this into words yet. I've never really been someone who believes in soulmates, but I also have never been someone to be completely enthralled by a girl either. But with Wyla, I was enthralled. Fuck, I think I'm in love with her.

Maybe I am crazy?

When the door opens again, I halfway don't even want to look. I've been here two days, and she hasn't shown. I've been all around downtown, the ice cream shops, the Farmers Market, literally anywhere that I feel like my Wyla would go.

Part of me has been wondering if she even lives in Nashville. Hell, I was only visiting for work, but this city is the only real lead I have. The idea of not seeing her again brings an ache in my chest.

As another group walks in—and she's not with them—I drain the rest of my drink. Maybe I'll get over her soon, but part of me can't seem to shut this voice in my head off that's saying, be patient, you'll find her.

The bartender comes back up. "Another one?"

The DJ comes on announcing that karaoke will be starting in fifteen minutes. With a sigh, I slide him my empty glass. "Actually, I'll take a Jack and Coke."