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“Not so bad.” He steps to one side and gestures for me to head into the club. “Your table is ready for you. Neun, ja?”
“Good man.” I slide a note into his hand as we shake. “Nine is right.”
At the bottom of the staircase are two blondes, both in tight red dresses, fur coats and snow boots. “Clark, hello,” one of them calls. I cannot remember that girl’s name.
“Nice to see you again.” She bats her eyelids in way that, not so long ago, would’ve had me coming back to see her at the end of her shift.
Instead, I climb the stairs. We’re received by a waitress and shown to our table, which is already stacked with 42Below, Hendrick’s, mixers and ice. “Could you bring a couple of bottles of Dom, too?” I ask.
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
“Tonight, Clarky, I love ya,” Amy says, hugging me zealously and planting a kiss on my cheek.
I seat myself so I’m neither next to nor opposite Dayna. She’s given my member a mind of its own, and the last thing I need is temptation. Instead, I sandwich myself between Amy and Tim — a safe zone.
The waitress returns with the Dom Pérignon, and we toast Dayna’s actualbirthday. After being hungover all day and having a good workout on the slopes, I really feel my second drink of the night, but it isn’t relaxing me. In fact, I’m increasingly wound up. Matty has positioned himself at Dayna’s side. He leans in every time he speaks to her. He eye-fucks her when she’s speaking to him or anyone else. He strokes the skin of her back through the cut-out of her dress. She seems oblivious, but that doesn’t make me feel any fucking better about the situation.
“Did you catch any of the Rugby World Cup?” Tim asks me, handing me a vodka. We chat about the England versus New Zealand game, but I can’t seem to shift the desire I have to tear Matty’s hand off his goddamn arm.
Multiple drinks later, Rachel leads the girls to the dance floor, and the guys spread out. Now I’m opposite the bastard, and he’s so damn smug I want to rip his head off every time he looks at me with his fucking condescending grin. When Matty leaves the table for the toilets, Teddy slides another drink my way.
“You need to relax,” he says so only I can hear. “They’re friends, Clark.”
“Friends don’t need to touch each other every fucking second.”
“Clark, it’s her birthday. Calm down or you’ll ruin it. I’ve seen that look on you before, and you don’t have a right to say who she speaks to. Or who touches her and where.”
His words rile me further. He’s right. But I want to have that claim. I want to be able to tell the world to back off because she’s mine. I drain my vodka and head out to the dance floor.
I see her with the others, her head dropped back, her arms moving in time to the slow rhythm of Kygo’s “Firestone”. Her hips circle and her body is making shapes I’ve only seen women make in music videos. I stand on the edge of the dance floor and watch her move.
“Hey, handsome.” Two hands cover my eyes. Irritated, I pull them away, and Camilla Normen moves in front of me, pulling my shirt as she backs onto the dance floor. I move with her into the dancing crowd so I don’t lose the buttons of my shirt.
I end up in the middle of her group of girls, the last place I want to be. Camilla rams her arse into my pelvis and grinds against me. It’s not particularly welcome, but I have to admit it feels good to have a woman touch my cock, since it’s been raging from the second I saw Dayna in that torturous black dress.
Camilla tries to turn to face me. I don’t want it. I hold her hips to stop her from rotating. She takes the hint but continues to roll her arse against me, her back to me. She sings as she moves, or maybe she’s talking to me, I don’t care either way. I scour the floor for Dayna.
Rage courses through my blood when our eyes finally meet. She’s grinding back into some guy I don’t know but recognise from other trips here. I push Camilla away as gently as I can while getting the point across and shove through the crowd, seething.
“Get the fuck away from her,” I growl to the dark-haired shit who has his hands all over Dayna’s waistline.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, only taking one hand off her.
I shove a hand against his chest, harder than I intend. “Keep your hand on her and you’ll find out.”
He holds up two palms and backs into the crowd.
“What are you doing?” Dayna yells at me.
“Me? Who is that guy?”
She’s nudged in the back by a drunken dancer and falls towards me. I take advantage, grabbing her at the hip and the small of the back.
“You have no business telling me who I can dance with. Just like I can’t tell you to stay away from Camilla Normen.” She digs the balls of her hands into my chest, but I hold her too close to fight me.
“That’s what you’re doing, trying to make me jealous? Well it fucking worked.”
She pushes harder against my chest. “Get off me, Clark.”
