He pretends to sniffle and wipes fake tears. “Love you, too, bro. Now how we gonna get your girl back?”
I shouldn’t like how that sounds—my girl—considering I haven’t even kissed her yet, but damn if I don’t want to soon.
Tori
This bar is like so many I worked at throughout college. Dark and seedy. Smelling of spilled beer and cheap cologne.
But I like it.
Because tonight I want to blend in, which isn’t hard since I don’t know half of the people Vivian invited. Laughter booms behind me, and I turn to see my best friend holding court at our table, which is filled with a bevy of beautiful people.
My eyes drop to the short, pleated skirt I’m wearing, and I tug the hem, which doesn’t budge. It matches the sparkly bustier-like tank top that makes guys take notice.
I’m not in the mood to have my body on display, but I had to borrow clothes because I didn’t have anything nice to wear. Viv thought dressing up would cheer me up.
It doesn’t.
Neither does the bluesy, heartbreaking Rihanna tune blaring through the sound system.
Viv’s motto is “fuck ’til you forget,” but I don’t think I have that in me. I feel men’s eyes on me, and it makes my skin crawl.
I toss back the rest of the mojito before leaning over the bar to order another and reluctantly rejoin Viv’s table. At least I’m not the designated driver.
As the night wears on, the alcohol spreads through me until the smile on my face is more genuine. Until I’m not totally faking it. Until that ache I felt when I realized Ethan had a date with another woman ebbs away a little.
When I’m wondering how many more drinks it’ll take before my lips go numb, Viv links her arm through mine. “Time to dance!”
I let her drag me to the back of the bar and down a dark corridor that opens up to a cavernous room where the club lights are low and the music thumps my internal organs.
Viv wraps me in a hug. “I’ve missed you!” she screams in my ear to be heard over the music.
“Missed you too! I’m so glad Kat had your number.” Am I ever. “She saved it the last time I got locked out of the dorms.”
Viv laughs. “Weren’t you in a t-shirt and underwear?”
I shrug. “It covered my ass.” Mostly.
She can’t criticize me for that lapse in judgment. Her antics usually exceed mine exponentially.
We dance until we’re sweaty and I’m loose-limbed, but when a remix of Twenty One Pilots’ song “Stressed Out” blares though the speakers, it hits me all at once. How sad it is that I got through almost four years of college but didn’t finish. That I’m a twenty-three-year-old babysitter. That the guy I’m working for was probably only hitting on me because I was convenient.
Oh, God. I’ve turned into one of those depressed drunks.
After trading in my mojito for ice water, I try to shake off this persistent funk, but it settles like a fog, thick and suffocating. How much have I had to drink?
Sticky bodies bump into us, and I’m ready to walk back to Viv’s condo alone if she’s not ready to go.
I turn, and almost run head first into some preppy-looking guy. He smiles, and I try to return it, but my face doesn’t want to comply.
I glance around and realize Viv and I must’ve migrated away from each other during the last song because she’s talking to someone several feet away.
Preppy leans into me. “Dance with me, pretty girl.”
My first impulse is to decline, but then I remember how easy it was for Ethan to go out with another woman. “Sure.”
My new friend is handsome. Tall with black hair and a cute smile that sadly does nothing for me.
Thankfully, my body moves to the music automatically, the driving rhythm animating my limbs when all I want to do is crawl into bed and veg out in my pajamas.
I’m already glistening with sweat, but I’m breathing hard by the time the beat breaks into a new song five minutes later.
As I’m twisting my long hair back and out of my face, the guy moves closer.
“I’m David,” he yells as his hungry eyes take me in.
I take a step back, realizing I don’t want to go down this road. Ethan might not want me, but I’m not interested in hooking up with anyone else. Eighteen-year-old me would’ve been delighted to kiss away bad memories, but the college-dropout me is tired of this crap.
The club lights strobe, engulfing the room in darkness when they shift away. I scan the crowd for my friends, but I can’t make out more than bodies and long shadows.
“Thanks for the dance, but I have to go.”
“Wait! I thought we were having fun.”
He wraps his hand around my wrist, and I shake my head. “Sorry. I can’t.”
I start to walk away, but he yanks me back, and I stumble into him. What the fuck? He did not just grab me.
His meaty hand slides up my arm, and I’m opening my mouth to bitch him out for touching me when he flies backward, flailing into people on the way down.
I gawk at the guy, who’s sprawled on the floor.
My skin tingles, and I glance over my shoulder. Beneath the flickering strobe lights, I see him.
Ethan.
He steps closer, his brows furrowed as the music drops out, leaving the steady beat of the drum.
“You okay?” Somehow, over the din of the club, I hear his rumbling voice.
He’s here.
My chest swarms with boozy-headed butterflies.
I blink, wondering if I’m imagining him. But nope, he’s here.
He takes a step closer and gently grazes his fingers across my arm where David gripped me. “Tori.”
The way he’s looking at me, like he’s worried and pissed and maybe misses me? Makes me want to snatch that kiss I never got the other night. Yes, kissing. I definitely wanna do that with Ethan.
Except…
Except he’s probably here with Sandra.
On his date.
“I’m fine.” Crossing my arms, I nod toward David, who is stomping away through the crowd. “I can take care of myself. You didn’t need to do that.” I work to keep my words from running all together into one incoherent strand of syllables.
Begrudgingly, I take in Ethan. It’s hard not to notice how mouthwatering he looks in dark jeans and a button-up. I’ve never seen him in anything other than old t-shirts. He must’ve made an effort to look good tonight. Dick.
I glance away, not wanting him to see that I’m hurt. Come Monday morning when I’m taking care of his kids, I can pretend I’m cool, but right now, I still feel the hot sting of rejection.
Ethan gently lifts my chin so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “Did you want him touching you?”
Reluctantly, I shake my head, but I have to close my eyes when the room tilts one way and then the other.
He leans closer. “You sure you’re okay?”
Those magnetic blue eyes stare down at me. Why does he have to have such beautiful eyes?
My words come out too quickly for me to temper the anger in my voice. “I’m great. You can go back to your date.” I barely hold in a wince at how whiny I sound, but it’s hard to sound smart when I’m buzzed.
Slowly, his hands lift to my shoulders, but he backs away until he can make eye contact. “You think I’m on a date?”