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“Yeah, we thought someone had picked our door to have sex against.”
“Were you close to the elevators?”
“No,” she snorted, shaking her head as she threw back another shot of tequila.
“Okay…so were there people having sex?”
She shook her head, starting to laugh so hard that tears were gathering in her eyes. “There was a girl—” more hysterical laughter “—that was half naked…pleasuring herself against our door. Like you looked out and whoops, there was her vagina. All she had on was a sweater and some socks.”
I stared at her incredulously…but evidently, Carrie wasn’t done.
“So then she gets up, gets on all fours in the middle of the hallway, and starts rutting back like someone’s fucking her, moaning to some invisible guy named Jeffrey about how good it feels.”
“There’s no way that happened.”
“I swear on my dog’s life,” she said, with wide eyes.
“You’d swear on Pudding’s life?” Carrie’s dog was a million years old and senile. But we loved the old guy.
Carrie continued to regale me with details from the rest of the night, both of us taking a shot in between stories, getting drunker and drunker as the night wore on.
Eventually, groups of guys started to approach. They were a mix of confidence and swagger, clearly emboldened by alcohol. One of them, with a cocky grin, leaned in a little too close to me.
"Hey there, beautiful," he slurred, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. "You look like you want me."
Not the best pickup line…
I rolled my eyes, a burst of liquid courage fueling my response. "Sorry, this vagina is a man-free zone tonight. I'm just here to drink."
Carrie burst into laughter beside me, clinking her glass against mine. "She's not kidding, boys. Her vagina’s got a strict no-man policy for the evening."
The guys backed off, a mix of disappointment and amusement on their faces, and we continued to enjoy our drinks in peace.
Carrie’s gaze suddenly went wide-eyed as she stared at something behind me. “Wow,” she mouthed.
I frowned and turned around, my own jaw dropping when I saw Jack standing there, looking like a figment of my hottest imagination. I blinked at him in disbelief, convinced I must be seeing things.
"Carrie," I slurred, nudging her with my elbow, "I think I've had too much to drink. Jack is standing there. I must be hallucinating."
Carrie was still wide-eyed, like a demented owl. "You’re not hallucinating," she whisper yelled. “He’s standing right there.”
Jack’s lips were amused as he stared at the two of us. "Hey there, ladies. Mind if I join you?"
“Don’t look into his eyes,” I muttered to Carrie. “He has superpowers. Makes you go all stupid.”
“Oh, do I?” Jack purred, his hands settling on my shoulders.
I couldn't help but feel my cheeks flush. I was mad at him. I needed to remember that. "I’m mad at you," I said, but for some reason my words were tinged with a flirtatious tone.
Carrie shot me a knowing look, her eyebrow raised, "Blink once if you want me to hit him in the balls.”
“Hey,” Jack murmured, his fingers massaging expertly into my shoulders.
My brain was still trying to catch up to the fact that a little while ago he’d been fighting over me, and before that, he’d been ignoring me.
And now he was here…touching me.
“Okay?” he asked, his gold eyes beaming down at me like they did indeed hold magical powers.
