“A refreshing drink under the aerial dancers?”
“Yes!” I answer too quickly. Any thoughts of repercussions out the window. What Kirsten doesn’t know… I’m off the clock, right?
I drag him with me, weaving through the peopledancing in the Pink Room, and find the Green Room I’d been to earlier.
The bartender is putting on a cocktail-making show, and it’s busier than ever. A loud clatter of a shaker going in the ground sounds above the noise, along with the deep voice of the bartender laughing and excusing himself.
“At least he’s having fun,” I say, and Robin chuckles. “But I don’t think we’ll get a drink here anytime soon.”
Robin stops near the edge of the bar and waves the bartender over. Despite being mid-cocktail-shaking, he makes his way towards us. They exchange nods, like some secret bro-code language, and the bartender discreetly tilts his head to the security guard in the corner.
Robin gestures towards an old, tall bookshelf.
I shrug and raise my eyebrows at him, although he probably can’t see that.
He leans in.
“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?” he asks. His voice rumbles in my ear, making my arm hairs stand on end.
YES.
“Sure?” I shrug.
I’m not about to melt into a puddle. Not me. Cool as a cucumber.
The guard pulls the large vintage bookshelf aside and gestures for us to enter. Too cool!
“After you,” he says.
We descend into a small, dark basement bar. V-VVIP section is what this feels like. There are two couples in separate intricately carved wooden booths, huddled in low conversation; barely audible over the jazz playing in the background. LED candles along the side wall flicker like actual flames, and the warm light dances off the empty cocktail glasses on their tables, making the purple-painted room sparkle.
This is perfect after the wild ride we just had.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
We glide past the people, who are unrecognisable in their costumes. They could be celebrities, royalty, who knows. It’s the night for anyone to come out and be free.
Could Robin be a celebrity?
Oh fuck, I hope not. Hope he’s just a business guest or something. Are business guests VVIP?
No, stop. It doesn’t matter right now.
Focus on the present. On this glorious man that’s here with me.
“Do you think Robin Hood would get with Alice if they met in Wonderland?” I ask as I slide across the dark velvet cushions of the far corner booth, not sure what to say. How the hell do I seduce a man in a bar?
Is that what I want to do? Seduce him?
It’s not like I can go home with him. He’ll go to bed with magical Alice and wake up with random Rey.
“Oh, never mind. She’s seven years old!” I babble.
He answers only with a low chuckle as he moves up next to me and places an arm on the table, effectively caging me in. It’s impossible not to appreciate the biteable curve of his biceps so close to me. And those lickable forearms.
He’s obviously strong. Much bigger than me. But I feel safe. Like I’m meant to be here.
“ThisAlice is old enough for anything, though,” I continue. “Not too old, of course. Just perfectly old. Young.” I’m flustered by his proximity and manly cologne, mixed with a light salty scent, which conjures up highly naughty images of this masked man on top of me.
