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“How can it be bad when it’s going to feel so good later?” I laughed at him.
“You’re out of your mind.”
“Nope,” I grinned. “But I intend to be soon.”
I ordered another round of beer and another shot of vodka as Julian finished his first bottle. I just kept going and going until I felt the familiar buzz in my head—and then kept going at it.
After his third bottle, Julian got up and reached for his wallet. “I really have to go now, man. I still have an important meeting tomorrow morning with one of our more…difficultclients.”
“Aww…” I slurred. “Aren’t ya gonna stay longer an’ support me?”
He shook his head. “You should go home, too, Oliver.”
I grinned at him and tossed back another shot of vodka. “Nooo…I’ll just stay longer.”
I watched as he took out a wad of bills and left them on the counter before he muttered a brief goodbye and left me in my endeavors to drink until I pass out. Moments later, I turned my eyes to the dance floor, where a couple of people were already dancing.
With the presence of clubs like Encore popping up all over Georgetown, the Lucky George did not have as much clients as they did back in the days but there were still some rather loyal ones who preferred to go at it old school.
Loyal ones like Julian and I, who had frequented its halls since we were old enough to drink legally and even before then.
The funny thing about alcohol,I realized with a sudden cheerfulness,is that it gives you confidence you didn’t once have in talents that you didn’t once possess.Take dancing, for example.
I hopped off the barstool and staggered for a moment before I reached the dance floor. I was never one for dancing. I had two left feet, for fuck’s sake! The last time I danced was at the prom with Amanda and only because I knew she loved to dance and she chose to dance withmeeven if I was fucking awful at it.
Dancing can clear the buzz in your head, I reminded myself.So I can drink more.
I started to wave my arms around like I saw on a couple of dance videos on YouTube. Then I started to take a couple of steps and swing my hips as best as I could, looking for all the world like a cockatiel on drugs attempting a mating dance—whatever that was.
Then, I saw it—a flash of blonde hair, sea green eyes, and a dazzling smile.
Amanda?
I started dancing closer towards her and at first she seemed confused but she soon started matching her steps to mine, laughing a little as she joined in on my insanity.
Another song later, we stumbled back onto the barstools, laughing at ourselves.
“I’m Nathalie,” she grinned at me. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?”
“Hell if I know!” I replied with a grin. “Name’s Oliver, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Oliver!”
“You’re nice, Nathalie!”
She giggled at that. “You’re funny. I like that.”
“I like you, too,” I grinned at her. I leaned into her and planted a wet, sloppy kiss onto her mouth without much of the finesse I would have liked. I was frankly a little surprised when she returned the kiss with equal fervor, throwing her arms around me as she rubbed her breasts against my chest.
Feels good, my brain fuzzily registered.It has been a long time since I had been this intimate with a woman.I reached out a hand and gently squeezed a breast and she moaned, pushing the soft mound into my hand.
I had never fooled around with a woman before except Amanda and that was due to a combination of love and a boatload of hormonal teenaged lust. I was always too busy but now, a woman was practically pushing her damned boobs into my hand and it was a pretty nice distraction from my problems with Amanda.
“My place or yours?” she murmured, nipping at my earlobe.
I fought back a groan. “Can’t. I live with my mom.”
On any other day, that would have sounded laughable but I was drunk enough to spout nonsense without the accompanying shame that came with it.
