The Last Call
The neon glow of the Blue Moon Bar pulsed through the dimly lit space, casting a warm haze over the crowd. Nathan leaned against the polished mahogany counter, swirling the last sip of his whiskey sour between his fingers. The ice clinked against the glass, a rhythmic counterpoint to the low hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. He wasn’t here to drink—well, not just to drink. He was here for the same reason he always came to this bar: the chance to meet someone who didn’t know his name, his job, or the weight of his past. Someone who might just make him forget, even for a little while. That’s when she walked in. Sarah slid onto the stool beside him with the kind of confidence that made the air around her feel charged. She was all long legs and sharp angles, her dark blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders in loose waves, her lips painted a deep, sinful red. The kind of red that made a man think of things he shouldn’t—at least, not in a bar at 10 PM on a Wednes...