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"Always so stingy." Alicia chides, sliding a finger down his chest.
"Where's Ryan?" Katarina asks, directing the question at Ant. He nods in the direction of the booth, and she rolls her eyes. "This playing hard-to-get shit is getting old." The whine in her voice rubs me the wrong way.
Ant shrugs. "Maybe you just aren't trying hard enough." He flashes me a devious grin, and she lets out a 'humph' before marching towards the booth.
"Sometimes he just needs a little push," Alicia says, laughing into Ant's neck.
I find myself turning to watch the exchange that takes place near the balcony. Katarina walked right up the stairs and was now leaning her body towards Ryan, her cleavage level with his line of sight. She laughs at something he says, then slides into the booth next to him, pressing herself against him. A pang of jealousy hits me hard, and I almost don't hear Alicia talking to me.
"What? Sorry," I apologize for zoning out.
"Dance. I said, ‘Let's dance, little Miss Publicist," she repeats, grabbing for my arm and dragging me towards the dance floor.
A tall woman with dark skin and intense hazel eyes is gliding across the floor carrying a tray of multi-colored shots in long tubes. Alicia reaches for a few and thrusts one filled with some purple mystery liquid in my direction. I let it slide down my throat.
Berries. It's good, really good. She hands me another. This time, the liquid is orange. I throw it back, and she cheers.
"Seriously, I want your card," she says when Ant is out of earshot. I laugh, mainly because I don't even have cards yet, and also because a stunning model is currently twirling me around the dance floor like we’ve known each other for eons.
I can't remember the last time I did something like this. Dancing with a stranger I barely know, and having a damn good time. Actually, I can. It was my sophomore year of college. I went out with the girls from my dorm hall and spent hours drinking and dancing my heart out. That's about the time I realized just how important my dreams were, and when I started focusing solely on my schoolwork.
This was the first time I felt completely free in so long. Who would have thought it would be with a famous model and a few rock stars?
Chapter Thirteen
Juliet
I know the alcohol is the only thing keeping my feet from killing me right now. We’ve been dancing for what feels like hours, and each time the woman with the tube shots comes around Alicia grabs one for each of us.
When a pair of smooth hands snake around my waist I don’t even flinch. The stranger’s body presses into mine, and I go with it. We move in sync with the thumping beat of the music and when I make eye contact with Alicia she gives me an approving thumbs up. Everything seems fine until he suddenly moves his hands to grab my hips a bit too tightly.
His hands continue to move and trace my curves, stopping just before he reaches my breasts. I try to slide out of his grasp, uncomfortable at the sudden shift from dancing to groping, but his hold just becomes tighter.
I turn my head and see a tall man with dirty blonde hair looking down at me. His eyes are dark brown and full of lust. I try again to get free of his hold to no avail.
“Hey, I need to go check on my friends,” I say, trying to keep the panic from my voice.
He presses his lips to my temple, and his voice is thick like molasses. “Your friends are fine, baby.”
I take a step forward, but the man slams my body back into his. “Feisty, aren’t you? I like that.”
“Seriously, let me go,” I say far more assertively than I did the first time. The music is so loud, I doubt anyone else can hear us, and I don’t see Alicia. She must have gone to grab another drink.
His fingers dig into my waist, and I try to shove him away but it’s no use. “Aren’t you a little tease?” He asks. He’s drunk, like really drunk. His slurred words are a dead giveaway, and the smell of liquor hits me in the face when he speaks, making my stomach turn.
I try to slam an elbow into his ribs, but he’s too strong and keeps my arms locked. “Dude, fuck off. I’m not interested.”
He laughs at me, and my skin pricks, fear taking over the anger. Apparently my attempts to get him to release me are humorous.
“She said fuck off,” Alicia yells out, back at my side. I am suddenly more grateful for her than she will ever understand.
“Run along; we’re busy here.” He shoos her away and turns our bodies to face the opposite direction. He begins to walk me toward the bathrooms.
When I feel him begin to plant sloppy kisses down my neck, I want to vomit. Tears begin to prick at my eyes, but I push them away. I have never been in this situation, and frankly, I have no clue what to do.
Where is Alicia? He moves us through the crowd so easily that now I can’t see her again, especially with his tall body blocking me from the view of the dancefloor.
“Please stop. I don’t want you to do that.” I’m begging now, but he doesn’t seem to care.
