Reeva, who’s much shorter than Leslie, hooks her muscular arm through mine and leads the way. “Move it, bitches.”
When we’re deposited at our table, we all have one more shot before Reeva and Leslie depart for the backstage area, and then we wish them luck in their performances. Leslie is the headlining act most nights, and Reeva goes on before him, but we cheer all the guys and girls who come out and sing and dance for us.
“Don’t look, but there’s a guy in the corner who is staring straight at you,” Zina says between Reeva and Leslie’s performance.
“It’s really hard not to look!” I say over the music.
She chuckles. “He’s hot. Oh, shit. I think he’s coming to say ‘hello’.”
I giggle at her words and start to blush. I haven’t spoken to a man in years, not since college, not in this way.
“Excuse me,” comes a baritone voice. “Can I buy you ladies a drink?’
I turn around with a smile on my face, but my jaw nearly unhinges itself and drops to the floor. A man approaches us with a kind smile and beautiful hazel eyes.
“I think we can pour you a drink,” Zina says and nudges me.
“Hi!” I wave. “I’m Zhanna, and that’s Zina.”
“Dalton. You must be sisters.”
I laugh. “Yes! We are!”
He laughs back. He’s a very attractive guy. I offer him a seat at our table and soon, Leslie comes out and sings five songs as the headlining act. He dances and sings like a professional as he wins the crowd over.
When the show is over, Dalton invites Zina and I to his table in the back corner. Zina passes to go back to the dressing room to hang out with the performers.
“I’m going to the ladies.”
I squint one eye as I make my way through the dim, smoky club and eventually find the women’s restroom. I have no idea how I make it inside to use the facilities without breaking my neck in these heels, but I manage. After I wash up, I leave the bathroom. I’m thankful I emptied my bladder because a set of hands grabbing me scares me half to death. My back hits a wall outside the women’s restroom, and lips press against mine.
I push against my attacker and see it’s Dalton.
“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly. “I thought you saw me.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “What are you doing?”
He touches his hand to my cheek. “You’re so beautiful. I just wanted to kiss you.”
It’s been a long time since another man has told me I’m beautiful. Dalton may not be my type, but I want him to be. I want to like him. I wish I wanted to rip his clothes off. He’s a nice guy. He’s been attentive all night.
I grab a handful of his shirt and pull him to me. I close my eyes and try my best to get into it, but he’s just not Bryant. It feels odd and unfamiliar. I don’t like the way he kisses or touches me.
“Zhanna,” Zina says from behind Dalton. “It’s time to go home.”
I break the kiss and take one last look at the man I wish I’d wake up and regret in the morning. “Sorry,” I say. “She’s my ride.”
“I can take you home,” he offers.
I press a kiss to my fingertips and then to his lips. “It was nice to meet you, Dalton. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
His hopeful face falls. “Damn. Okay. It was nice to meet you too. I hope to see you again.”
“Yada, yada, yada,” Zina says and pulls me down the hall.
Leslie stands at the end of the entrance to the hall with his hands on his hips and disappointment on his face. “Tequila was about to make your clothes fall off, girl.”
In the backseat of a hired car with my sister, my thoughts drift to Bryant. If he was near, I’d choke him for fucking up my life. I send him a text to let him know how I feel.
