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“I want you. If you think I deserve good things, you should think I deserve to get what I want, and that is you. I want you, Abbey. And you know, you deserve someone like me. Someone who will take care of you. Who will protect you, who will love you for you, broken and damaged bits included.”
I kiss him. I push myself against him and kiss him.
His lips move against mine. One of his arms wraps around my waist, holding me tight The other cups my face, holding it still. He takes over the kiss, leading it. His tongue parts my lips, and I open my mouth for him. His tongue darts into my mouth, rubbing against my tongue as his lips move against mine.
I rock my hips against him, wanting more. He steadies my hip, though, and I remember we are in an alleyway, not somewhere private.
We pull apart after a few minutes.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” He admits, laughing and rubbing his chin.
“What?”
“Kissing you. It’s exhilarating.”
I smile. I know the feeling. It is the definition of exhilarating. It made me throb and ache for more.
“Yeah.” I say back.
“Abbey, I wanted this night to go better, but it is what it is.” He puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against him. “What do you say we go dancing and try to turn this night around?”
“Yes.” I nod.
When we arrived at the club, Wes and I skipped the line and got ushered inside. Music is playing, and it's dark except for some flashing lights going off every now and then.
“What do you want to drink?” He asks in my ear.
“Vodka.” I yell back.
“Straight or mixed?” I shrug.
He nods and pulls me towards the bar. We wait behind some people. A few of the patrons whisper and point to us. I should be used to it by now, but it still makes me feel nervous and anxious. I wonder what they are thinking, what they are saying, what they will say.
We get up to the bartender.
“A double of whiskey. Any whiskey. And a double of vodka.” Wes yells to the bartender. He pulls out his wallet and hands over a card. “Tab under Whitmore. Her or me only.” He waves to me.
The bartender nods, pouring our drinks.
Wes hands me the vodka, and I throw it back instantly. I want my buzz back. He nods and turns right around.
“Another two.” He shouts to the bartender, throwing back his own drink. He takes my empty glass and sets it on the counter next to his.
The bartender pours us each two more. We move over to the side a little and quickly throw them down, back-to-back. We set the empty glasses on a nearby counter.
“Damn.” He says, putting his arm around my waist. “Shall we dance?” I nod.
He pulls me to the dance floor. I move to the beat of the music playing. I press my body against his, moving up and down it like he is a pole, as he stands mostly still, watching me.
His hands touch my body now and then, but I can tell he is trying to behave. I’m making it hard, though, as I grind against him to the beat of the music. I circle him and sway my hips. I drop it and pick it back up. I dance all around him. I throw myself against him occasionally.
We dance like that for a while. I honestly don’t know how much time has passed, but my feet are starting to hurt, and I don’t feel the warmth of being buzzed anymore.
“Drinks.” I whisper into his ear.
He nods.
He wraps his arm around my waist as we push our way through the crowd to the bar. We wait behind a few people again. Wes grips my waist, pulling me closer to him, his hand squeezing my hip.
