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I will always take Sam’s word with a grain of salt. She’s good at exaggerating and hyping everyone up. It’s one of the things I like about her.
Sure, I feel sexy and confident in the spaghetti strap cut out midi dress I'm wearing that hugs my curves. The dress Nala gifted me on my birthday last year. I know I look gorgeous as hell but there are prettier and sexier ladies here.
“Red is so your color,” Sam emphasizes.
“Thanks.” I give in, knowing she won't stop if I keep doubting her.
Her hand flies to her mouth, “Oh my!” she exclaims, startling me.
“What is it?”
“My crush is here,” she squeals, and I follow her gaze at the bar stand. A tall, muscular guy with dewy skin and round cheeks raises his drink and winks at her. She holds my arm, blushing.
“Did you see that? He just winked at me.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
She fixes her hair and her dress and fiddles with her purse. “I have to get to the restroom and retouch my makeup. This is my chance to have him tonight.”
“What? You are leaving me alone?”
She stands and shrugs. “You are a big girl, G. Loosen up.”
“But you can’t just?—”
She walks away before I get to finish my sentence.
The last time I went to a club was in college, and that was with Nala. She never left me alone because she knows that I get anxious easily in strange places and with strange people.
Coming here is a bad idea. It clearly is. Moping at home is surely better than this.
Strangely, I feel somebody's watching me. I just feel it. I look around the club to try and find whoever it is that’s watching me.
My eyes meet a pair of mesmerizing green eyes belonging to a handsome man sitting by the bar. I feel my heart constrict and my breathing almost snatched as I refuse to believe what my own visions are revealing to me. There is no way I can mistake the man I have been avoiding for nearly eight years of my life. The man that drove me to be here tonight. No way.
It's no one other than Chris. I don’t know why, but I feel the overwhelming emotions crash in my heart.
He somehow manages to look elegant and arrogant in his black fitted dress shirt and black pants and that same stupid smirk with a glass of whatever liquid raised slightly in a toast.
He isn't supposed to be here. This is supposed to be my escape. It’s like he knows the effect he has on me, and I don't like it one bit. I refuse to break eye contact with his intense green eyes.
Whatever his motive is, I have no idea. He has never cared much for me, so I don't understand why he’s looking at me now.
What I don't expect is for him to start laughing hysterically.
He finds me funny. He really finds this entire situation funny. Just when I think I can’t hate him any further, he keeps proving me wrong. The nerve of that bastard.
A waitress passes by with a tray of drinks. I stop her and take two glasses. I down one and wince when it burns down my throat.
I cough into my hand, mentally berating myself for being stupid. I kept making stupid decisions since he reappeared in my life.
I look back at where he’s seated but he’s no longer there. I let out a breath of relief.
But that relief is short-lived when I hear my name in my ear.
“Gianna,”
My legs felt cemented to the ground as I swallowed hard, turning to stare at the devil disguised as a dashing angel standing in front of me now.
