Page 74 of Melt His Heart

I can’t say I hate it.

But what I do have to overthink is what I should even wear for this horrible idea that is Carson taking me to the club. I open my phone and scroll around to find some ideas. Maybe I should try for something a bit cheeky. It is a club after all, isn’t that what we’re going there for?

You know who can help with this.

Me: What do you wear to the club?

Liam: Something sexy for your man to eat you up in ;P

Me: I figured.

Liam: Who’s going to the club?

Me: Me duh.

Liam: I had to check the number to make sure

Me: Oh shut up.

Liam: Going with your sexy hockey boyfriend?

Me: He’s not my boyfriend Liam!

Liam: Riigghhhtt! but anyways the conversation at hand. I’ll send you some stuff!

Me: Ok thanks! You’re the best!

Liam: I knoww I knowww

* * *

After going back and forth with Liam for hours. We finally met in the middle and decided on me wearing a black baby tee and black jeans that hang low on my hip. If I even raise my arms a tiny bit, my entire stomach will be exposed. But Liam said I looked edible.

Whatever that means.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Live a little! It’s going to be fun, and you’ll be with me, nothing to worry about.” Carson grins.

We’re getting closer to the venue, my heart is pounding in my chest. Carson insists I shouldn’t waste my youth away, never having experienced it. And maybe I did want to know what it’s really like. It seems fun enough, I just never had any time for it or interest, rather.

“You’re the worst, you know.” I sigh.

“You’re gonna have so much fun.” He drawls.

We get put to the front of the line as soon as we arrive, Carson gets special treatment wherever he goes; pros of being a hockey player, I suppose. The moment we step through the glass doors, I know why we all need a drink for this. The place is top two most overstimulating environments.

There’s people dancing, drinking from wall to wall, and I can literally feel the music vibrating through my bones.

Carson grabs my hand and leads me to the bar, where he orders us both something.

He hands the small glass of tequila and a lime, “let’s have a good time.” He whispers, his breath hot against the shell of my ear.

It’s going to be a long night.

“Cheers.” He smirks and we both down our shots, Carson turning to order another round. We share a smile before downing those too.

I’m definitely feeling the drinks already as he takes my hand when he leads me into the sea of people, and I don’t protest, “Come on! I know you can dance, Julie.”