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The idea of standing near the DJ but not moving to the music isn’t appealing.
We can pretty much do that anywhere around the room.
Dancing should be done closest to the music.
And hopefully Wheels plays “Wheel Woman” because that song was so my song when I was in college.
Easy listening jazz like tunes flow out of the speakers surrounding the dance floor and rather than complain or request a change, we decide to just go with it.
Enjoy the random change in our personal music scape.
Shockingly, my typically reserved partner is nowhere to be found.
The man spinning and twirling and dipping me when he’s not executing shimmies and sultry hip thrusts is not the same one, I’ve been to almost a hundred of these things with.
No.
This one couldn’t care less about who is watching or taking our picture.
He can’t even seem to spark up a fuck to give about what others might say regarding his hand occasionally on my ass or his tongue repeatedly in my mouth.
GeordiLaForgehavemercy, do men get weird hormone spikes during this pregnancy thing too?!
Or is this all…just part of him keeping his promise to keep showing up for me like he claims I’ve always shown up for him?
Wes slyly slips his leg in between mine that are slightly parted to allow a closer grinding motion; however, before it can really get good – and by good, I mean result in that bathroom bang I’m now thinking about again – we’re joined by someone who is more interested in my moves than his in the sex aspect.
“Hate to be a tendy here,” Jenni awkwardly interjects, “but I think we’ve got a problem.”
“Why are you here?” I less than warmly ask. “Who sent you? Was it Evie? Did she tell you that we couldn’t be trusted unsupervised?”
“Ohnonono,” brushes off the energetic, young woman, “she doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Then why are you here, Miss Cohen?” Wes unhappily grumbles. “Disrupting my fiancée’s mandatory appearance?"
“Technically, I’m here to support The Institute. My brother was invited by one his teammates – although I, personally, think they’re secretly dating – who is a huge fan of P&B, having grown up in the area and taken like so many school fields trips to it, and he himself donates and them being here is great PR for the club – and they need it, the Dragons suck so bad in every department – and since he’s in my town, he thought it’d be a good idea for me to tag along with them, so here I am popping champers and shrimp cocktail pretending I’m not excited to hear Wheels sing even though I so totally am.”
An all-knowing wink is shot at Wes.
“And now the reason you’re here interrupting us instead of fangirling in secret elsewhere?”
“Right!” Her long fingers deliver a tiny tap to the middle of her forehead. “Okay, so cas’ look to the left and find the tiny blond in the short silk dress. She’s gonna be past the woman with one sleeve puffy shit, but if you’ve spotted the woman with the fish head sticking out of her drink you’ve gone too far-”
“Whythefuckdoesshehaveafishinherdrink?!”
“Found,” Wes announces, prompting me to abandon boarding the train of curiosity for whatever one Jenni is requesting.
“The blonde that’s talking to my boss?” I nonchalantly investigate. “What about her?”
“That’s Monica’s assistant.” We cut our glares to Jenni in tandem. “As in the Monica Simmons.” An uncomfortable cringe is quickly flashed. “As in the woman who seems to have an inside source on all things Bryn, Wes, and Wilcox drama related… I recognize her from the day they came to the office to confront you about your lineage. Monica instructed her to wait at the coffee shop across the street rather than go with her to the meeting.”
“Holyshit,” doesn’t finish leaving my lips before I’m jetting off in the direction with them on my heels.
“Uh…Bryn?” Jenni poorly attempts to stop me. “Um…don’t you think-”
“This Gamma Quadrant, female changeling cunt, is the one leaking information about us to the media?!”
Jenni fumbles out another effort to intervene, “Maybe we should-”
