The smell of spent gasoline and dailed garbage assaulted Derek as he stepped onto the street.

He always waited to the sunset to head to McLeod's.

That was when the best prospects were out.

Derek had wanted the alcohol almost an hour before sunset, but he knew that if he intended

to go to bed with someone tonight, he needed to pace himself.

A woman might accept the man's advances if she was drunk, but they would rarely spend

time with a strange drunk while they were sober.

This was a lesson Derek had learned early on, and it was likely the only thing that stopped

him from being a full-blown alcoholic.

His phone chirped and Derek fished it out, hopefully, wanting to see what cutie was texting

him so early.

He sighed when he recognized Charlene's number, asking if he would be at the bar tonight.

Charlene, the one night stand, who wouldn't take a hint.

He had slept with her about five months ago, and the sex hadn't been worth the constant

dodge he now had to run with her.

Despite his best judgment, he'd taken her out a few times since their hookup, but he

had never taken her to bed again.

Derek didn't stop for seconds.

And as he put the phone back in his pocket, he knew he'd have to cut her off soon.

Besides, he had other prospects these days.

As he rounded the corner, Derek couldn't help but see the spotlights in front of the

old warehouse that had once been a canary.

...