The Afterclub Refuge

Hannah's night was supposed to end with a Lyft and a podcast on the ride home. Instead, it ends at the apartment of the last man she'd ever call, her sister's ex-fiancé, the construction manager with the tribal sleeve and the Nickelback problem.

She's in full goth regalia. He's in sweatpants. She's bracing for mockery. What she gets is a man who notices the things nobody else has ever seen, the green in her corset that matches her eyes, the music she hides from her family, the version of herself she only lets out after dark.

Lincoln Willingham is not the boring dudebro she spent two years ignoring at family dinners. He has a wall of vinyl he's never shown anyone, portraits inked over his heart that cost him an engagement, and a studded belt on his closet door that he knows exactly how to use.

He knows how to use it because this is smut.