Page 159 of Relapse

I am worthy. I can be good.

I have a purpose here.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” I finally said to the girls in front of me.

The blonde frowned, looking at her friend. “Let’s go back out to the floor.”

The brunette had a different smile, something else beneath the flirtation. She shrugged her shoulders, and without another word, lifted herself up and onto my lap despite me turning down her advances. I stared at her as she linked her arms around my neck. The blonde gasped.

“Why don’t you just let me do all the work then?” She whispered into my ear, proceeding to rub her body against mine in time to the music playing.

Now that she was this close, I could smell more than just the perfume—I could smell the liquor on her breath. I cringed. It reminded me of my old life. I briefly wondered if that’s how bad I used to smell when drunk. “Lady, please—”

I looked past her shoulder at the two shots still sitting on the bar. Untouched. Waiting. She sure as hell was making me want one, though. Just so I could get enough confidence to send her away.

“Pleeeeease, continuuuue?” she slurred, smirking down at me.

“Not even close.” I looked up her friend. “Do you mind?”

She nodded swiftly, snatching her friend by the arms and pulling her off me. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, clearly embarrassed as she escorted the drunken girl away, loudly chastising her about how much she’d had to drink.

I laughed and turned back towards the counter.

That’s when I noticed the man sitting next to me was staring. I looked over my shoulder to make sure there was no one else’s attention he was trying to catch.

“Can I help you?”

He shook his head. “Dude, that girl was just giving you a lap dance and you looked absolutely bored. You basically told her to get lost.”

I shrugged. “That’s not my thing.”

He raised a brow. “What, women?”

I tilted my head, smirking. “No. Women who are so intoxicated they can’t even speak straight.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean it how it sounded.”

I pushed the two shot glasses away from me. I could feel my confidence growing. “I wouldn’t care.”

He stared at me. “You…wouldn’t?”

I gave him a crooked grin, thanking the bartender but sending the drinks back. “Not at all.”

The man scooted closer to me. “Yeah?”

“Look, I am smart enough to know when I’m being hit on.”

The words seemed to get sucked right out of his mouth. The ball was in his court. I stared at him, waiting for a response.

“You are hitting on me, right?” I asked, still smiling.

His embarrassment vanished, replaced by a hunger I recognized immediately. The look on his face changed, his restraint slipping away. “Let me take you back to my place,” he growled.

I casually leaned closer, keeping my gaze pointed out towards the crowd so I didn’t seem too eager. “I think that’s a—”

The air in my lungs froze.

Out of all the people in that club, all the faces and bodies moving around me, one person caught my attention.