Everything I Want (6 page)

“I don’t think that’s gonna work too well. You see, I’m already drunk and have been drinking tequila, gin, and beers all night so far… ”

“I think the idea was to get you wasted girl.”
Fuck me!

CHAPTER NINE

The bartender returns with the two shots of vodka and my beer. Frankie pushes some cash at her then nods. I reach out with both hands and grab my shot and beer from the counter. He reaches for his shot with one hand, and with the other, he picks up his Bloody Mary that he already must have ordered before I came out of the bathroom. “Okay, here’s to the start of a fan-fucking-tastic friendship.” Frankie raises his shot glass against mine, and we down our shots. If I was sober, I probably would have felt the burning from the vodka a little more; but with my buzz on, it’s less noticeable. “So… Having a good time so far, sweetie?” Frankie is now sipping on his drink with his dainty, well-manicured pinkie sticking out every time he takes a drink.

I find myself rolling my eyes when Frankie asks me how my night was going. Frankie narrows his eyes, peeling the pickle out of his drink. He starts pointing the pickle from his drink at me and begins to say, “Girl, let me tell you something, mmm-kay? If you rolled your eyes because of who I think it is, then you just need to step up. Don’t let him ruin
your
night or this whole experience for you. All right, girl?”

I couldn’t help my laughter. Frankie was trying to be a little serious with me, but all I can focus on was his damn pickle flopping all over the place when he spoke. He must have noticed it too because he looks down at it and bites the end off, giggling when he does.

I cast my glance over at the booth; all the guys were still there, minus Cory and Caleb. But now, I notice one of the blondes from earlier tonight that was with Tristan is back. She is squeezing into the booth with Tristan, and for some fucking reason, I hate it. Turning back to Frankie, I decide to ask him if he wants to go dance. “Hey, Frankie, do you wanna dance?” Frankie starts nodding his head slowly and grabs my hand. “I thought you’d never ask. Let’s go downstairs, more people.” He points over the balcony, and I agree and follow him to the elevator.

We approach the dance floor, and its packed! It’s a sweet dance floor with the blue lights underneath making it almost look like you’re dancing on water. The kind of lights they had underneath are made up of different shades of blue and they move in what looks like a rolling motion. It’s pretty fucking sweet but definitely not a good thing to keep staring into when you’re drunk.

Frankie takes hold of my hand and starts pushing through the crowd. I’m following behind him, trying not to fall flat on my face. Wait! I don’t mind dancing at the edge of the dance floor, but he’s taking us to the center. Figures. Frankie, from what I’ve gathered, loves attention.

He drops my hand and whips around. Placing one hand on my right hip, he pulls me close against his lean body and starts to move. I don’t really listen to modern day dance stuff, but the song on isn’t that bad. The bass is pumping through the speakers that are surrounding the entire dance floor—the whole club, for that matter.

My body is feeling warm and fuzzy from the drinks, but now I can feel the music start to take its effect on it, too. My hips start to move to the rhythm of the music. I raise my arms above my shoulders and close my eyes, feeling every beat run through me.

I start rolling my chest every so often, and Frankie does the same with his on me. By looking at it, you wouldn’t be able to tell that Frankie is gay with how he’s dancing with me. He’s such a good dancer, which is a bonus for me, because it makes it easier for me to follow his lead.

We are now on our third song, and I can’t get enough of dancing. Frankie is the best person to party with; he’s carefree, funny, and dances extremely well. Having a flamboyantly gay friend is totally fucking awesome. I feel like I can pick him up and place him right on my bed at night. Just like a little girl would do with her favorite doll. That’s how Frankie is to me. Only, I’m his doll really because he’s my stylist; and he does such a damn good job at it, too.

I can feel my footing isn’t at all the greatest right now with these heels and the buzz I have going. I lost my balance a couple times already, but Frankie leans in and saves me every time. So I decide to turn my body around and push my back up to his front. I start swaying my body down his with my hips. He starts moving back with his body, going side to side. I would almost feel uncomfortable doing this kind of dancing with someone else, but…
It’s Frankie and he’s gay, so it’s okay.

Making my way back up his body, doing the same moves that I did going down, my arms reaching up and rubbing his chest with my hands, I turn to face him again. His face is splitting with his grin, and he shakes his head. Just then, I feel arms circling around my waist, pulling me away. I abruptly turn around to see who’s grabbing me. What the fuck! Some random guy, who looks like Rico fucking Suave, is trying to rub up on me. I don’t think so! I was getting ready to push the motherfucker off and tell him to get lost when Frankie steps in. He pushes the guy away and yells, “Back off, bitch!” Wow! Frankie being all dominant and shit. I never even knew he had that side to him before.

He grabs my hand and starts to lead me off the dance floor. I would’ve taken care of it. I would’ve just peeled my heel off and slapped the fucker in the face with it. But I guess this is the more subtle way of handling it.

“Want a drink?” Frankie’s fanning himself with his dark silk button-down shirt. “Um… I guess?” I don’t really need one anymore. I’m pretty drunk as it is but thirsty as hell from dancing. “Actually, can you get me water? I will grab a beer when we head back up.” Frankie smiles at me then leans in at the bar.

I turn back around, facing the dance floor again. I would have to guess that there’s about two hundred people—maybe even more—on the first level alone. This place is definitely intense!

Frankie hands me my drink and downs two shots for himself. Licking the vodka off his lips, he asks me, “Ready?” Then we’re back out dancing again.

After a couple more songs, I was ready to sit down again and have a beer. Right as we’re heading off the floor, a familiar tune starts to pump through the speakers. I stop suddenly, pulling Frankie to a halt. He notices the familiar tune too and begins to jump a couple of times and starts clapping. It’s Marky Mark’s “Good Vibrations.” And I don’t care what other people may think of this song. This is dancing music, for sure. Excitedly, I pull Frankie back with me and we bounce, grind, and move our arms up in the air to the song.

By the time the song is over, Frankie and I start heading back to the VIP area. “I need to tinkle,” Frankie whispers in my ear. He starts making his way to the restrooms. He stops and turns around and yells, “Get us a round!” I shake my head okay at him and smile.

I ordered our drinks, and I’m just standing there waiting for them to be made. I can see that none of the guys are in the booth anymore. They’re all lingering and mingling around. As I watch the bartender prepare Frankie’s Bloody Mary, I can feel this warm presence right behind me. Tristan’s deep voice whispers into my ear, causing me to still. His lips tickle my earlobe and sends shivers down my spine. “Having fun?” I spin around, brushing up against him.
Fuck!
He is right on me.

Looking up at him through my lashes, I just give him a silent nod with a closed-mouth smile. I go back to facing the bar again, but Tristan is still standing behind me. Damn it! What is he doing right here? Especially behind me like this? It’s less crowed at the other end of the bar. I feel him press his hard chest closer to my back. He speaks up to the bartender, who was all in favor of dropping her other duties to come over here and to take Tristan’s order. Leaning down on me, he orders. “Can I get a scotch?”

Looking back up to him, his eyes are dark and dangerous-looking. Must be from the booze he’s drinking. I think? I don’t know if I’m freaking out or not, but I swear I thought I could see something more in them. I’m just not sure what it is.

His strong arms are tight against his gray short-sleeved T-shirt. The way he crosses them in front of his chest is causing his tattoos to stretch against his muscles. The sight of that alone makes me want to do some very bad things to him. The way his hair is tousled, falling around the sides of his broad face. I hate to admit it because he’s such a dick, but damn… Being drunk and not having gotten laid since my ex and I broke up almost a year ago is making me so horny right now. Not a good thing to be feeling around Tristan right now. “So you dance?” I turn around to face him, with our bodies only a few inches apart. I give him a puzzled look. “I noticed you dancing down there. You look pretty good dancing.” As of right now, I’m in a small state of shock. Usually, only insults would come out of his mouth; but Tristan’s saying I look good dancing. It makes me feel nervous and excited all at the same time.
He was watching me dance?
And for how long? “Cat got your tongue?” he asks, leaning into me more. His eyes are searching mine.
Shit!
I’m so out of it right now. Tristan threw me offtrack with him telling me I’m good at dancing; now I don’t know how to act or speak.

Shaking my head slightly, I reach for my drink. After I take a drink, I glance back up at him. I feel so incredibly vulnerable right now as he towers over me, and I don’t really like it. “Uh yeah, thanks. Honestly, I’m just drunk right now or my ass wouldn’t even be out there.” I giggle to myself for being so honest and modest with him. As I mention the word “ass” to him, I notice Tristan taking a few steps back and checking out my body.
What the fuck is going on right now? Did he really just check me out?
“Well I think you should have your ass out there more often.” He growls low at me. He’s so calm right now that I can’t tell if he’s being serious or just fucking around.

Tristan reaches in and grabs his drink off the bar. While reaching in, I feel him brush up against me again. Is he doing this shit on purpose? I feel lightheaded from his proximity to me. I really can’t handle this right now. I’m drunk and obviously turned on. And I have hot asshole Tristan standing here right in front of me—which I believe, now, that maybe he’s starting to flirt with me. That reminds me.
Where is fucking Frankie when I need him?
“Yeah, well I don’t really go to clubs often so… And besides, weren’t you the one that called me a harlot? For dressing and dancing this way on stage earlier tonight? Isn’t that kind of being hypocritical?” I ended up sounding a little bitchy when I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. But after I threw that back in his face, he begins to have this arrogant smile starting to play on him.

Using his hand to rub his chin while he takes a moment to think about the words I just threw at him, I just stand there looking up at him and waiting for him to respond. But he doesn’t. Instead, he just cackles to himself.

Finally, Frankie shows up, interrupting this awkward conversation Tristan and I were just having. “Sorry, girl. There was a fucking long wait for the toilets. By the time I was done, I couldn’t even powder my nose. I didn’t want to leave my girl out here for so long.” He squeezes through Tristan, not even realizing that some awkward conversation had just taken placed.

I look up annoyingly at Tristan, wondering when he was just going to leave; but he just stands there, looking at me. With this smirk on his face, I couldn’t help it but I still wanted to know why he dedicated harlot to me. “Oh, girl, I will be right back. I have to say hi to someone I know real quick.”

So now it’s back to just Tristan and I. Well, I might as well finish what I started with this harlot business. I’m drunk and I can’t let it go. I take a step closer to him, bending my neck back as I look up at him. He follows my moves, but he still has this cool demeanor going on. Tristan leans in, his face is now right in front of mine with just an inch separating us. I can smell the liquor coming off his hot breath, and I feel just that much more intoxicated now.

“Tell me something, Sophia. Why do you think I did that?”

“I don’t know why. That’s why I’m asking you, dumbass.” Holy shit! I can’t believe I just said that. I guess all this pent up anger towards him just finally spilled out of my mouth. But it did feel really good letting it out. His eyes dance at my insult, and then a glare takes over his eyes, hardening them. He leans in so close now that I actually take a step back, ending up bumping into the counter behind me. In a deep growl, Tristan says, “Because, Sophia. Because that’s exactly what you are. And if not?” He reaches his arms around on each side of me and places his hands on the bar top. I’m caged into him. I cannot move. The only thing I can do to escape him is look down, but I don’t want him to know that he intimidates me. So I stand my ground and stare back at him into his eyes. Once he knows he has my full attention, he continues. “Then you’re nothing but a fucking cocktease.”

What! My eyebrows raise so high that I can feel the skin on my forehead stretch. What a dick! “You son of a bitch!” I spit out at him. You can feel the air around us getting dense. Frankie pushes his way back through to me. “Excuse me, Grizzly Adams!” I’m stuck staring into Tristan’s eyes. While I’m glaring at him, his eyes begin to crinkle at the corners; and his lips go up slightly in a smirk. He steps back and takes a drink of his scotch, never taking his eyes off me. When Frankie’s back is turned while he takes his drink, I mouth “Fuck you” to Tristan. I spin around quickly so I don’t have to see his reaction.

Another hour passes and I’m still up at the bar with Frankie. Roger comes barreling over to me and hangs off my shoulders and asks, “Rea-dy?” He is so wasted right now. I grab a hold of him, steadying him from swaying. “Yeah, let’s go.” I look around and I see Jared. I give him a nod, letting him know that it’s time to go.