Home > Tipsy (Take It Off #5)(12)

Tipsy (Take It Off #5)(12)
Author: Cambria Hebert

As we approached, someone came out and the music grew even louder. Inside there was a bouncer at the door, taking money for the cover charge. Craig handed over some cash and we were invited inside by the grunting bouncer.

Classy.

The music was so loud I could barely hear myself think. The lighting was dim, most of it coming from flashing neon bulbs and a disco ball over the dance floor. There were booths lining the walls, all of them in the shadows, and a bar shoved up against the right side of the room.

It kind of looked like a huge empty gym. The walls were plain. The floor was wide-open for dancing in the center, and the bar was wooden with stools underneath.

There were people crowded everywhere—around the bar, around the booths, on the edges of the dance floor. The dance floor was seeing a lot of action as well. Couples and groups were gyrating and dancing all over the place. A DJ booth was set up on the far side of the room, and he was dancing it up to the tunes as well.

The air was thick in here, the amount of bodies making it overly warm. It smelled slightly of stale smoke and beer.

“Come on!” Dee yelled over the music and pulled me over to the bar. Craig pushed his way through the crowd and appeared several minutes later with a drink for each of us. He was also carrying a shot of clear liquid, which he extended to me.

I took it without question and swallowed it in one gulp. It burned the whole way down my throat, and I felt it coat my stomach with fiery warmth. I took a sip of the rum and coke in my hand and scanned the crowd.

“See anyone promising?” Dee asked, leaning into my ear. I rolled my eyes. In this place? Yeah right. I had a better chance of catching some weird airborne disease in here than I had of actually meeting a guy worth dating.

“No,” I yelled. “I’m not looking anyway.” The sting of being rejected by Blue again was still fresh. It was like one of those nasty cuts that just a brush of the air caused it to burn and sting fiercely. Unfortunately, I couldn’t slap a Band-Aid over my entire body. I was going to have to deal.

I took another sip of the drink, feeling the effects of the shot already. I guess alcohol was sort of like my Band-Aid tonight. I never drank so I knew it wouldn’t take much to take away the sting—if only for a little while.

A new song switched on, something by Pink, and suddenly I didn’t mind it was so loud. I liked not having to think.

“Let’s dance!” Dee said and pulled me out onto the dance floor.

The three of us found some space on the side and started moving to the beat. Dee was a good dancer. She ground herself against Craig, who used his hands to pull her a little closer. Eventually, I began to feel like the third wheel I was, and I shook my empty cup at her and pointed to the bar.

She nodded and I stepped off the floor and out of the crush of bodies. I tossed my cup in a nearby trashcan, not really intending to get another. I was already feeling it. I was a little fuzzy headed, my body was relaxed (relaxed = uncoordinated), and I knew if I drank any more I would be well on my way to drunk.

I wandered toward the bathroom, debating the toxicity of the germs in there, but my bladder made the decision for me. The alcohol was going right through me.

Halfway to the bathroom, someone stumbled into my path from a nearby booth. They bumped into me. “Sorry,” they mumbled, righting themselves and disappearing into the crowd.

I adjusted my top and turned my head.

Familiar eyes collided with mine and my heart stopped. It literally stopped beating. I felt like every ounce of oxygen had been siphoned out of my lungs and they collapsed right there beneath my ribs.

Eyes that blue could only belong to one man.

My gaze raked over the rest of him, confirming what I already knew.

Blue was here.

He was wearing clothes I never would have guessed he owned. Scuffed-up jeans, a T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. On his head was a gray knit skull cap. It covered up the hair I ran my hands through just hours before. God, it felt like years.

Even more, there was a piercing in his lip, a tiny silver ring that the flashing lights above occasionally reflected off of.

It made me yearn to know what that metal felt like against my skin.

I shook my head. Standing here practically ogling how hot he looked was ridiculous.

I got stood up so he could come here and… and… Well, I don’t know what he was doing. Except there was a blonde wearing a very tiny shirt cozied up to his side and looking at him like he was a steak and she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

My eyes found his again, and I drew back in shock. I’d never seen such coldness in his eyes before. It was as if I was the last person on Earth he wanted to see.

His gaze flicked away, like he was dismissing me, and the girl at his side started kissing his neck. I was going to be sick.

I started moving again, rushing away from the table… from his angry stare. I didn’t know what I could have possibly done to make him look at me like that. Hell, if anything, I should’ve been the one looking at him like that. He was the one that stood me up.

I pushed into the bathroom, no longer caring how filthy it was, and waited for a stall. I did my business (hovering over the toilet because I wasn’t about to touch anything—okay, so I guess I did care about the germs after all) and then washing my hands at the sink. I glanced up in the mirror above and noted the slightly shell-shocked look on my face.

Pull yourself together, Julie, I told myself. Go show him what he’s missing. I smirked at my reflection. How inconvenient for him that the girl he just stood up happened to be in the last place he expected.

After ruffling my hair a bit, I went back into the club, heading straight for the bar. I ordered another rum and coke and waved to Dee, who was still dancing it up on the floor with her man.

When my drink was ready, I pulled some cash out of my jeans, but a hand reached out to stop me. “I got this.”

I watched as he threw some bills onto the counter, grabbed his beer, and turned to me.

He had very dark hair, almost black. It was wavy and a little too long, causing it to fall over his forehead and over one eye. He had smooth skin, brown eyes, and full lips. There was an arrogance that surrounded him, the kind that a guy carried when he thought he was God’s gift to women.

He was totally not my type.

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” I had to say it so loud it didn’t sound nearly as flirtatious as I planned.

Wait. I wanted to flirt?

I glanced down at the drink in my hand. Alcohol, a bruised heart, an angry ego, and the guy who caused it all just feet away was not a good combination.

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