My best-friend—scratch that, my only friend—sat on the bed in my tiny studio apartment staring listlessly at the white popcorn ceiling. Her makeup was heavily applied, thick rings of blue-black eyeliner and dark gunmetal gray lined her piercing gray eyes. She was pretty. In fact, in my humble opinion she was far, far prettier than I was.
"Three years!" Jen yelped tugging at her glossy chocolate brown locks. She was taking it hard. Her boyfriend had dumped her the week before and she still had yet to get over it. I couldn't really blame her; they had been dating since Freshman year. They had met during orientation. I never liked him much, but then again I didn't like most people—see evidence of my only having one friend.
"It's not so bad."
"Not so bad!" She repeated writhing a top my covers rumpling my comforter. We were supposed to go out tonight. She convinced me that we needed to go out, that she was ready to get back out there. I was skeptical.
"Yeah. Tonight we'll go to the bar and you'll meet someone."
"It's not a bar, Sadie. It's a club."
"Club, bar, whatever. I'm going to spend my night drinking while you get wild on the dance floor. So it's a bar to me."
"You need to live a little."
"Do I?" I raised a brow and she rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. You're twenty-one, you're hot… but how many guys have you dated?"
"I'm not that hot. And… have you seen the losers that populate our campus?"
"You do have a point there." She sighed and popped up. "Ready to go yet?"
"Nearly." I returned to staring in the mirror of my vanity. I wasn't unattractive, my hair was dyed a neat shade of red that the stylist had called a fashion shade. It was somewhere between garnet and bright fire-engine red. My natural shade was much more subdued, as in true black. My eyes weren't anything special, dark and almond shape hinting at an exotic lineage that my grandmother had meticulous notes on. My skin was just olive enough that I could pull off any shade of red I wanted while not being too warm to wear pastels.
The one thing about my appearance that I liked—no, loved—was my mouth. I had full, perfect kissable lips that I loved to highlight with red lipstick. Tonight the shade of red was a bright, vibrant, eye-catching crimson. I kissed at the mirror and took the clips out of the hot rollers in my hair. My tresses cascaded down, to brush against the small of my back in perfect loose curls.
"See you are hot! I don't get you, if I had that mouth or your body I'd have landed someone better than that dickhead Mark."
"We can agree to disagree."
"I suppose we will."
Standing, I rolled my eyes. She was entitled to her opinion. I fanned my fingers back through my hair and smoothed my sweater. It was form fitting, extenuating my body—I was admittedly built a little like Jessica Rabbit—but more importantly it was off-the-shoulder, which I loved to death. Something about having my throat so exposed made me feel sexy. With ankle boots and black leggings, I thought I looked pretty damn good. Not quite the super model levels of Jen, but close enough that I might actually meet someone who didn't make me ponder the benefits of self-induced lobotomies.
The club was so loud I could taste the pulse of the music on my tongue the moment the beefy black clad bouncer waved us in. Jen started gyrating to the music before we cleared the big frosted glass wall that had the club's logo embossed on it with the word ABADDON scrawled across the middle. The place was packed, a veritable sea of bodies covered what I assumed was a dance floor because there was hardly any space between people.
Before she made her way to the crowded dance floor some guy was already dancing with her. That sort of thing did tend to happen to tall leggy blondes who looked like super models. I gave her a thumbs up and made my way to the bar. It was our ritual. I'd grab a few drinks while she danced. Before I turned twenty-one the whole thing was a lot more boring for me. It wasn't that I disliked dancing, but I hated having unknown guys grinding on me. I didn't mind it so much when they were attractive, but I still wasn't the biggest fan even then. But I was a fan of a good Cosmo.
I approached the bar and flagged down the bartender, flashing my bright neon green wrist band.
"What can I do for you, beauty?" the bartended beamed at me. He had a smile like a wolf, predatory and sly.
"Can I get a Cosmo, please?"
"Anything for you." He winked at me, and I smiled shyly back. I always had a hard time fending off unwanted attention.
The bartender wasn't exactly my type. He seemed very boy next door. I would bet anything that the smile, bearded man with happy green eyes had once played football in high school, and was possibly voted prom king. He had that look to him. Essentially he looked like the type of guy who would have ignored me in high school or worse called me strange.
"Here you go, Honey." He returned with my drink, and on the napkin was his number. I gave him my credit card and pretended not to notice. But when he came back he wouldn't let it go. "I get off at three."
"Oh, I might give you a call." I smiled at him before turning from the bar and looked around for an empty table. Every single inch of the place seemed to be completely packed. I scanned the club and my eyes fell on Jen, who was grinding against a different guy now, and they seemed to be talking—or rather shouting—to each other.
"You go get 'em Jen," I whispered before taking a sip of my Cosmo. Before she knew it she'd be over Mark, and have someone new. It didn't take me long to get over the last guy I dated, though admittedly I hadn't dated anyone since. It didn't seem worth it really. Also, no one really held my interest.
It wasn't that I had impossible standards, it was just that I had yet to meet a guy that didn't either come on entirely too strong or too douchey. For some reason the guys who caught my eye were never interested in me, so I had given up on trying more or less.
Though, as my attention passed over the room once more my gaze settled on a figure I hadn't caught before. Seated alone in one of the booths was a man who made my mouth dry just by looking at him. He was perfection. He had dark hair, and deathly pale skin with tattoos that climbed his arms, disappearing under the sleeve of his t-shirt. His eyes were pale like silver in the flashing lights of the club and his mouth full, kissable and inviting. His gaze met mine and the whole world seemed to slow to a screeching halt. It was like someone pressed paused on the club around us. I saw nothing but him. I heard nothing but my own breathing and heart beat as he stared at me.
Was I drunk? I couldn't be, I barely had a sip!
His lips curled into a careful smile, as if daring me to approach. Unfortunately, I was too chicken to accept the dare.
Instead, I looked down at my drink and the world crashed in around me again as the music blared to life once more and the people continued their dancing. After taking another swig of my drink I shook the cobwebs away.
He probably wasn't really looking at me anyway.
Letting out the softest of disappointed sighs I went back to watching my friend dance with yet another guy. I blinked a few times as she led the guy from the dance floor to the bar. Smiling to myself I finished off my Cosmo. I figured I stay for another hour and then ask if she wanted to go. I knew she could dance all night—as she used to do on occasion to piss Mark off. It was well established that it took a lot to that her off of the dancefloor.
My eyes drifted back to the booth where Mr. Perfect had been seated, only to find it empty. Pursing my lips, I made my way to the bar, keeping an eye on Jen. I figured I'd finish off one more while letting Jen to have her fun.
Six more Cosmos and four check in by Jen later I realized I had too much to drink. The world wasn't exactly spinning, but it was damn close to it. I couldn't stare at the lights on the dance floor without feeling particularly nauseous. Jen was seated across me now in the lap of the guy that she had dragged to the bar. When she joined me she moved us to Mr. Perfect's booth. Currently, she was making-out with her man-chair.
"I think I need some air." I furrowed my brows. My whole body felt incredibly warm, like I was melting from the inside out.
"You okay, Sweetie?" Jen asked glancing over at me. Breaking from her intense lip-lock with her obvious rebound.
"Yeah, I just need to cool down."
"Alright, stay by the bouncer, and text me if you need me?"
I slid from the cushioned seat. "Yes, mom." I teased, swaying as I stood. After steadying myself on the table I headed for the door.
The short trek from the far corner to the door felt like it took ages before I finally reached the blissful cool air. Though I gave Jen shit for her request, I did follow through, making certain to sit on the planter by the door.
"You gonna' make it, girlie?" the bouncer inquired as I closed my eyes.
"Mhm, just needed some cool air."
"Want some water?"
"Nah, I'm fine. Thanks though."
"Anytime."
For a while, I sat with my feet dangling off the edge of the planter. I had no concept of the time that passed other than the line dissipating as the bouncer said they weren't letting anyone new in. He did tell me just to yell and he'd come running if someone bothered me.
By the time my butt was starting to fall asleep a guy came out of the club as part of a group of people. He rubber-necked to me waving off his friends. He looked like one of those guys who spent entirely too much time in the gym. He didn't even seem phased by the brisk early spring night in his black tanktop and jeans.
"Waiting for someone?" He asked tugging on his shirt.
"Nope, trying not to vomit," I responded quickly taking slow deep breaths.
"Really because it seems like you're waiting for me." He sat beside me. "You're hella sexy, you know that?"
"Thanks." My problem reared its head again. I didn't know how to let someone down. Well, I knew how to do it and rip their hearts out, but I couldn't bring myself to do that.
"That shirt looks really good on you, I bet it would look even better on my floor though. I'd give you a good time. You want to have a good time, right?" It was then that I noticed his hand creeping up my thigh—with the emphasis on creep.
"I'm here with a friend, we do this whole come together leave together thing. Sorry."
"C'mon baby." By now his hand had reached my upper thigh, and I had gone from mildly annoyed to thoroughly disturbed.
"No! Get off me!" I went to push his hand away but he grabbed it and pushed it against his crotch as he tried to kiss me. I was desperately hoping that I'd throw up on him, but he never got that close.
One second he was practically on top of me, and the next he was on the ground beside the planter and Mr. Perfect was standing there beside me. Under the streetlights those eyes of his were very blue, and full of all sorts of rage and anger that he turned full force on Creepy-Mcgrabby. They stared at each other wordlessly for a handful of seconds before Creepy-Mcgrabby pulled himself from the pavement and walked away.
I slipped from the planter with the intentions of going back inside.
"Tha—" I didn't even get a chance to finish it as the nausea I was just barely holding at bay came to a head. I turned quickly and vomited in the planter, what seemed like everything I had ever eaten ever—it just would not stop coming. Pale, cool fingers raked back through my hair holding it out of the way as I continued to spew. He rubbed my back in slow relaxing circles until I finished. As I straightened to standing he handed me a napkin.
"Are you alright?" his voice was deep, dark, and soothing with just a touch of menace. He sounded just as perfect as he looked, a treat for all the senses…and I just threw up in front of him. I blushed and dabbed the vomit from my lips—thankful that my 16 hour stay lipstick was also vomit proof.
"Y-yeah, I think." I nodded too quickly and swayed heavily loosing balance, but before I could really react to catch myself his arm was around me, preventing me from smacking my head on the cold, hard stone it was inches from. The phone in my pocket buzzed, but I couldn't have cared less as I stared up at him. "Thanks…again."
"My pleasure." He steadied me, and slowly removed his arm from around me. "Do you need me to get someone, or call a rideshare?"
"I… I'm never drinking again." I shook my head as my phone kept buzzing.
"Oh, don't say that. Everyone is allowed to get a little too drunk every now and again. The trick is not to make a habit of it." He flashed me a world ending smile and I returned it.
Jen and her rebound exited the club. She had her phone in hand and seemed a little out of breath. I felt bad, she probably freaked out when I didn't answer.
"Oh my fucking god, Sadie! You scared the shit out of me!" Jen shrieked pushing passed Mr. Perfect. She checked me over, looking into my eyes. I knew what she was doing, it was the did-someone-put-something-in-your-drink check. "Are you okay? You didn't answer when I texted you!" She exclaimed once satisfied with whatever she saw.
"I'm fine, I was just…" I gestured to the vomit specked planter.
"Ew, gotcha. Do you need me to call an Uber or something? I'm going to head to Asher's place if you can get home okay."
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go bump uglies or whatever." I waved her off, completely oblivious to level of shade being exchanged between Asher the tall, tan, and blonde, and Mr. Perfect.
"If you say so." She turned to Mr. Perfect and glared at him with the fury of a thousand suns, "There isn't a hole deep enough for you to crawl into to hide from me if you hurt my friend. Got me?"
"Yes. I'll make certain she gets home safe."
"Alright." She turned back to me. "Be safe okay, Sadie? I'll swing by tomorrow morning with juice and pastry from The Muffin Man."
"You're the best."
"I try." She kissed my forehead and then walked off with Asher toward the parking lot, leaving me standing with the gorgeous stranger.
If he's a serial killer I'm royally fucked.
"You can go back inside, I can get home myself," I offered smoothing my top.
"How about we both get an Uber together?"
"I guess that would be okay." I rubbed my temples. "I'm going to have the biggest headache in the morning."
"It probably won't be so bad." Again he flashed me that amazing smile.
"You're not going to kill me and chop me up are you?"
"No."
"I guess you can drive me home then."
"Alright. Are you okay to walk?"
"Nope." I giggled. For some reason the realization that I couldn't walk anywhere without falling over seemed hilarious. However, without skipping a beat a swept me into his arms like I was nothing. He cradled me against him as he carried me effortlessly to a black mustang with windows so heavily tinted you couldn't see inside.
I gave him my address and he drove me home. Once we reached the street outside of my building he glanced at me and again the whole world crashed to a stop. I forgot about the vomiting and started wishing that he'd kiss me. However, that didn't happen, he turned his head away from me and swallowed.
"Almost home," he said softly as he got out of the car.
After walking around to my side he pulled me into his arms again, and bridal carried me all the way to my door. Once there he set me down and kept a hand on my back to steady me as I fumbled my keys, dropping them not once, not twice but three times as I tried to get into my apartment. By the fourth drop, he gently took the keys from me and opened the door. I stepped over the threshold and turned back to look at him. We stared at each other for a while.
"Thank you," I hoarsed out, my throat still raw from earlier.
"You're welcome."
"Would you like to come in for some water or something?"
He smiled with my question and stepped into my apartment. Again his hand returned to my back as he led me deeper into my apartment, ushering me toward my bed. The tension mounted as, even as drunk as I was, part of me was desperate for him. It had been a while since I had sex. He was perfect enough, and I was drink enough that the thought of a one-night stand seemed almost appealing.
However, once I sat on the bed he walked to the nearby kitchen, and opened cabinets until he found my cups. He then proceeded to pour a glass of water which he set on the nightstand, leaving me to blink at him completely bewildered.
"You know, we could… if you wanted." I stumbled awkwardly over the proposition with my lazy drunk tongue.
He smirked. "Maybe next time." He started for the door.
What? No!
"Wait!"
He paused and turned.
"Can I at least get your name?" I asked sitting up.
"Byron," he spoke over his shoulder.
"Will I see you again?"
"Possibly."
"Can I get your number?"
He paused. "Next time."
"You're not being fair." I pouted and collapsed back into the soft mattress.
"I know, nothing about this is fair. Sweet dreams, Sadie." The sentence was followed by the telltale click of my door closing and locking behind him. Had I just been shot down? There were too many questions in my head as I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Thankfully, I wasn't staring too long and passed out relatively quickly before all of those curious thoughts got the better of me and I did something stupid like run after him… and probably vomit in the hallway.