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“Do you need some money for a cab or something?” I asked. I wasn’t a complete dickhead.
“Screw you,” Kailey spat out, but then she held out her hand for the cash, which I gave her.
With final flicks of their overly processed hair, they stomped down the hallway.
I closed the door and looked around my empty apartment. It was sterile and cold. A lot like my life. There wasn’t much in the way of personal touches. I was a dude after all. What did I know about throw pillows and afghans?
The only thing that indicated a person lived here and not a robot was the framed photo of my mother and me taken when I was probably five years old at my uncle’s house on the Cape. It was one of the few happy memories I had of my childhood. I wasn’t the sentimental sort, so the fact that I held onto that picture was out of character.
I picked up the low ball glasses the girls had been drinking from and took them to the galley kitchen. I put them in the dishwasher before opening up the refrigerator, looking for something to eat. Unsurprisingly, there was only a two-week-old Chinese takeout and a couple of beers. I didn’t cook so I very rarely ate at home.
Now that the evening was wide open, I didn’t know what the hell to do. I paced my apartment aimlessly. I opened the message from Rob again. Marlena looked happy. Of course, she was. She had just graduated from law school. It wasn’t so long ago I had done the same and I remembered how good it felt to finally be done with school.
I wondered if Adam had given her the offer. I half expected her to reject it out of sheer stubbornness. I wish I could have seen her face when he handed her the letter. Would she be surprised? Irritated?
I could picture her blue eyes widening the way they did when she was taken off guard by something. Then they’d narrow as they always did when she became annoyed. Sometimes she’d clench her teeth and I would tease her that she’d hurt herself doing that. Then she’d tell me to fuck off. And so it went between Marlena Ducate and me.
I stopped pacing and stared at her face for a second longer than I should before shutting the damn phone off and shoving it in my pocket.
Now that I was alone, I realized I couldn’t stand being in my own company. I wasn’t in the mood to think about things. That was bad for a guy like me. So even though I had given up on the chance of an easy lay, I knew that staying at home wouldn’t be good for me.
So, I grabbed my keys and my wallet and headed out.
**
The club was loud and suffocating. Too many people pressed together on the dance floor made it hard to move. The air smelled like sweat, alcohol, and too much perfume. Best of all, my mind was gloriously blank.
It was fucking perfect.
My shirt was unbuttoned again, my chest sticky with sweat and spilled booze. I had lost track of my buddies, Derek and Todd, who I had talked into coming with me. Neither had been thrilled to spend their evening at Club Galactica, but then again, neither would ever say no to me. It was the glue that held our friendship together.
I danced with a hot thing sporting a pixie cut and not much else. She gyrated against my crotch while I held on to her narrow waist. Her ass pressed into my cock as she bent over and shimmied upright again, all the while smiling coyly over her shoulder.
I wasn’t drunk, but I was feeling a nice buzz. And the best part was the music was too loud on the dance floor to talk.
The songs bled into each other and I danced until my legs could barely hold me upright. Finally, I extricated myself from Miss Pixie Cut and made my way to the bar. I caught sight of Derek and Todd at a booth toward the back nursing on drinks. I knew this wasn’t their scene, but I also knew Derek would do anything not to hang out with his mother-in-law for the night and Todd was desperate for a break from newborn baby duty.
“A Corona with lime, kind sir,” I called out to the bartender. I leaned against the bar while I waited for my drink, giving the woman beside me my best you-want-to-have-sex-with-me smile. She was sipping on a red cocktail with a very thin straw. She was cute in a schoolteacher kind of way.
“That any good?” I asked, indicating her drink.
“It’s not bad if you like cherries,” she replied, giving me a brazen once over. “Do you like cherries?” she asked, sucking one into her mouth slowly. My eyes widened at her ballsy attitude. It wasn’t at all what I expected by looking at her.
