Page 38 of Stranger to Love

The friend wasn't as tall as Adrian. He had curly black hair and a slimy, over-eager grin that immediately made my stomach twist in distaste. He approached our group, his eyes scanning over Mia and then lingering heavily on my chest with that exact same stupid smirk. I instantly wanted to throat-punch him. I shot a look at Mia—yep, she was going to the top of my hit list. She at least had the decency to look slightly guilty.

The guy offered his hand, and we exchanged a brief, tight handshake. “I’m Ali,” he introduced himself, his voice dripping with fake charm. “You must be Mia and Alex.”

Mia forced her best, sparkling customer-service smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Adrian stepped in, wrapping an arm around Mia’s waist as if subtly claiming her, and I couldn't blame him. We turned back to the bar as Ali ordered a cider. A bit juvenile for a place like this, but whatever.

Anthony slid my rum and coke across the sticky counter, throwing me a look that clearly asked: Why the hell are you standing with a man?

I merely closed my eyes in exhausted solidarity, hoping he'd attend Mia’s upcoming funeral. Anthony smirked, sliding a damp bar cloth across the counter. I mouthed a silent thank you, using the reflective chrome of the beer taps to scrub Mia’s red lipstick off my cheek.

“Nice to meet you, Ali,” I lied politely, spinning on my heel. I tossed the dirty wipe back to Anthony, entirely grateful he was on shift tonight, and headed toward the back of the venue.

“Let’s grab a booth over here,” Adrian called out, guiding Mia through the scattering of early-evening drinkers.

The booth was tucked deep into a corner—cozy, dark, and relatively private. I slid onto the leather bench first, planting my drink down and effectively forcing Ali to take the seat opposite Mia. It put a reassuring amount of table distance between us. Mia and Adrian naturally gravitated into their own bubble, their legs already tangled beneath the wood.

As the night rolled on, Carlos began to fill out. The ambient chatter grew into a loud roar, and the lighting dimmed, shifting from a warm amber to pulsing blues and reds. The dance floor finally started to pick up, and fuck, I loved the music here. At The Dam, it was just a relentless, monotonous electronic beat; here, they played actual music people could sing and dance to. Because the crowd skewed a bit older, it was a perfect mix of 80s hits and early 2010s power ballads. The nostalgia in the room was infectious.

I sipped my rum, trying to get into the groove, but I had a mission. I kept my interaction with Ali to an absolute minimum, though he was relentlessly trying to spark up a tedious conversation.

“So, what’s your course like? Business Management, right?” he asked, leaning over the table, flashing that arrogant grin.

“Dense,” I answered flatly, keeping my eyes fixed on a woman in a killer jumpsuit laughing at the bar.

“Right, right. So, like... numbers and stuff?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, the sarcasm dripping from my voice. “Yes, Ali. Numbers and stuff.”

His attempt at banter was starting to seriously piss me off. My eyes kept drifting across the lounge, searching for an older woman—anyone older, bolder, and more competent than this prick—to spend the rest of my night with. Mia was practically in Adrian's lap by this point, three rounds deep into the evening, whispering and giggling into his neck. They looked incredibly sweet together, full of soft smiles and genuine connection, so I tried to suppress my irritation. But Ali was definitely not the "buffer" I had agreed to. He was a complete roadblock.

I tuned him out entirely, letting the heavy synth of the music wash over me as I subtly scanned the room again. The alcohol was finally working its magic, heating my cheeks and making me feel bolder. I needed to ditch Ali, abandon the booth, and get onto the dance floor.

I’d realised early on that if I wanted to charm an older woman, dancing with her gave me an undeniable edge—especially if she was just curious rather than openly out. If you can confidently guide a woman around a dance floor, hold her waist with absolute certainty, and flash a cheeky smile, you're almost guaranteed to make her melt. Plus, I could actually stay on beat, and for a short person, I was deceptively strong; I wasn’t above a dramatic little dip to impress someone. I’d done it a million times in this club, mostly to Mia, and she was practically a gazelle. If I could dip her, I could handle any woman in this room.

“Drink?” Ali asked, noticing my empty glass. He still had a nearly full cider, and I offered him a strained, overly sweet smile as I slid out of the booth.

“Yeah, I’m going to go chat with Anthony.”

Ali made a move to stand, and I immediately waved him down. “Don’t worry about it, stay and hang out.”

I hoped he was picking up on the glaring subtext that I didn’t want him following me like a lost puppy. Thankfully, he just nodded and turned back to Adrian, who currently had his tongue halfway down Mia’s ear. Mia shot me a fleeting, blurred look that asked, You okay? I countered with a glare that made it clear she owed me a lifetime of free alcohol.

I reached the bar and slid my glass across to Anthony. He gave me a profoundly sympathetic look. "Why are you with that guy?”

I closed my eyes for dramatic effect. “I am not with him. I don't even fucking know him. Mia wanted to come out with her new guy, and I am being a fantastic friend by making sure she isn't outnumbered.”

Anthony smiled softly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, you might want to ditch him—the room is absolutely full of your type tonight.” He chuckled, nodding toward the crowded dance floor.

He wasn’t wrong. Fuck me, the lounge was teeming with beautiful, older women looking to let loose. I leaned my back against the bar counter, scanning the crowd. A few of them definitely glanced my way. One woman in particular caught my attention; she was a little more subdued than her rowdy friends, wearing dark blue jeans and a crisp white blouse with the top few buttons undone. Her light brown hair fell in soft waves, and as I watched, her eyes drifted over to me. Our gazes locked for a fraction of a second before she quickly looked away, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

Okay. I thought, my confidence flaring. Maybe I can get this night back on track.

I tousled my hair, turning back to Anthony to grab my drink. “Charge Mia for it when she comes over.”

“I would have,” Anthony said, his eyes dancing with pure entertainment as he crossed his arms against the bar fridges. “But it’s already been covered.”

“It has?” I scrunched my brows, instantly cringing at the thought of Ali buying my drinks from across the room.