Grace
The pounding music blasting from the inbuilt speakers gave me a headache. It pulsed through my veins, vibrated in my blood stream and slammed straight to my heart until it beat with the same intensity, a merciless tattoo against my ribs.
But who was I to complain? It is, after all, the reason why I'm inside Hell Hole, not the literal one, but my favorite bar to hang out on Friday night's with my girlfriends....one of whom.... is nowhere to be found. Ah! There's Ken, slender blonde with killer legs and an extremely short black dress, on the dance floor, devouring the face of a guy in an orange jacket. A very Orange jacket. Trust Kendra Millar to have other-worldly tastes.
My other girlfriend, Ty, short for Tatiana, sat next me on a barstool, sipping from a glass of Bloody Mary-trust her to add veggies into a cocktail-bobbing her head to the music while singing out the lyrics and texting her boyfriend of two years, Connor, all at the same time. Multitasking at its finest.
I was doing the same too, minus the texting the boyfriend part, since I don't have one. But somehow, the 'it's-freaking-Friday' excitement had gone out like a light bulb in my head. As always, Ty notices.
"What's with the sulky face?" She demands. Tatiana may be a bit shy around strangers, but she's popular for her bossiness among her friends. And we try our best to obey her because…Hell hath no fury as a Tatiana scorned. But we all love her, so it's okay.
My first instinctive thought was to lie, but Ty's my best friend and she deserves the truth. "I think I'm getting fired." I told her what has had me in a nervous bundle this entire time.
The Bosses of our company had trusted me with a rather complicated case, which I had delivered before the deadline, with maximum accuracy. But in doing so, I'd ignored the projects I'd already had on hand and now, I'm on a deadline with a ton of work to do and no time to ponder. And to top it all off, Vincent, my senior, would love to see me kicked out onto the streets and take credit for all my work, so he's done the good deed of 'reminding' our bosses that my initial job came first. "My head's so full right now," I told Ty. "I know what I have to write but I cannot fathom where to start!"
"You know what," Ty leaned in schematically, her auburn hair sliding over nude shoulders, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I have the perfect solution for your little problem."
"Really? What?" I leaned my head towards her to have a better hearing of her magical remedy.
"Sex."
"Sex?"
"Why, yes! What else?" She leaned back, grin stretching from ear to ear, leaving me dumbfounded.
"How on Earth is sex going to help me with my problems?" I toned down my volume when the bartender passed me another bottle of ice-cold beer.
"Honey, there's nothing like a mind-blowing orgasm to clear your head of all thoughts...instantly!" She snapped her fingers with a flourish, like that explained everything.
"Really?" I raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Even if I do believe in that ridiculous notion of yours, where am I going to find a partner for this 'mind-blowing orgasm' to clear my head? Last I checked it takes two to tango…unless, of course, we’re taking a trip to the sex shop."
"Oh no, silly! With the hottie over there, of course!" She shamelessly pointed a finger in the direction behind my head, like whoever she was pointing to was the most obvious of choices. I didn't follow her lead.
"And why is he the rightful candidate?" I took a wild guess in thinking that the hottie she'd so boldly pointed at in her drunkenness was a guy. The last thing I need is an invitation from the same sex.
But Ty's voice was coherent when she said, "Because he's been giving you an once-over since you got here."
"And how do you know that?" I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from my beer.
"Because I've been giving him an once-over."
I nearly spat out my drink. Coughing, I dabbed a napkin on my chin and tried to make rational sense of what Ty was telling me. "So, you mean, you were giving this guy an once-over, who's giving me an once-over. Remind me, why exactly are you setting me up with him again?"
Ty blinked. "You're drunk. And I have a boyfriend."
Shit! I really am drunk. Which really wasn't all that staggering once I realized I'd already had three bubblegum vodka shots and was currently on my second bottle of Anheuser Busch O'Doul's Amber NA.
Taking the opportunity of a distracted Ty, who was now smiling goofily at her cell phone, I risked a glance at the direction where she'd pointed not a minute ago, hoping that maybe, by some unforeseen miracle, she was hallucinating and there wasn't actually anyone in that direction, but instead, I met eyes of endless blue, visible from even this large a distance, placed in a face that evoked wicked thought of dark rooms and ruffled bed sheets and seductive plump lips that dried up my throat. The attraction was instant and, I blame it on the alcohol, made me want to take up the offer clearly visible in his eyes.
He stood on a far corner, between the private booths and the dance floor. Black hair spilled over his forehead, his jaw clouded by a five o' clock shadow. He wore a full sleeved shirt in the darkest of blues that almost seemed black in the dim disco lights, a glass of whiskey held in one hand while the other was tucked into the pockets of charcoal dress pants. From what I could tell, his skin had an olive tint to it, but it just might be the flashing lights.
"Hey there crazy frienemies!" Ken came bounding up to our stool at that instant, her cock-screw curls in tangled disarray that didn't leave much to the imagination on what she's been up to and lipstick smudged all in the wrong places. Leaning over, she ordered the bartender for another round of shots and, once delivered, placed three suspiciously green glasses in front of us.
"What on Earth is this monstrosity?" Ty scrunched up her nose.
"Something called celebration." Ken answered with a back flip of her hair.
"And what are we celebrating?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.
"Why, me hooking up of course!" A contagious grin.
It's not that Ken was a slut, but she really loved sex and took it as it came. She wasn't really the relationships type though. People she'd previously dated claim to find her too adventurous, too bold, too aggressive, too free-spirited and bit too of everything.
"Great!" Ty exclaimed, giving me a sideways glance. "So is Grace."
"You are!" Ken gasped, placing her hand over her heart. "My little girl is all grown up!" She pretended to wipe fake tears from her eyes.
"Hey! I said no such thing!" My complaint fell on deaf ears as Ty was already pointing at the guy with the bluest eyes.
"Hmmmm." Ken made a moaning sound as she too gave the guy an once-over. "I approve." And for some ridiculous reasons, I wanted to dunk her head into the shot glasses. The guy was looking at me, for God's sake!
"To hook-ups it is then!" Ken picked up a shot glass and waited for us to do the same. I must be really drunk if I'm even agreeing on a toast to myself getting hooked tonight. Oh well, it's Friday night, might as well, I shrugged.
Tipping back my glass, I let the familiar burn of the alcohol run down my throat...and gagged. "Gods! This is horrible!"
"Monstrous!" Ken seconded.
"I liked it!"
We both looked at Ty in horror.
"You know what," Ty chirped in. "I think it's time to hit the dance floor."
Agreeing, we all got out of our seats and headed towards the mass of sweaty swaying bodies.
Ken blended in instantly. Swaying her hips to music and moving her head from side to side as her curls flew in every direction. It wasn't long before the guy....let's call him Orange shall we? Yes, that sounds much better than calling him 'the guy she'll be hooking up with tonight'. So, as I was saying, it wasn't long before Orange was right behind her, grinding his junk into her hips, giving us an unwanted trailer of what was to come.
Ty and I both gave a synchronized shudder and moved to a less crowded spot and began to sway awkwardly, both more deplorable than the other at dancing. Before long, we too were dancing the night away, making weird alien like gestures and doubling over.
See, who needs sex when you have crazy friends to clear your mind, I thought to myself.
"Bella Signora," a heavy Italian ascent whispered into my ears, sending shivers down my spine. "May I have a dance?"
Forget friends, I'll take sex over friends anytime if the guy has such an ascent.
Turning around, I looked up...and up...into the devilishly delicious face that had me mesmerized. He was even more gorgeous up close and personal. My throat suddenly felt blocked with some unknown object.
Because it was him. The guy with the endless blue eyes.
My hook-up for tonight.
