Page 47 of David

The club manager nods and paces away while David Moore turns to the woman. Flashing a smile, she tips her face to him, and I finally get to see her better.

She seems comfortable with him––more comfortable than I was when I stood next to him in the coffee shop.

They look good together––if they are together––and the dread I grappled with moments ago while staring at Klaus grips me again.

“You know what? I need another drink,” I say, tearing my eyes away from David Moore and signaling to the bartender.

I place the order without asking Chloe if she’d like another drink. The next shot of whiskey goes down my throat like honey.

Warmth embraces my body, and a good feeling soars through me. The alcohol comes with clarity and a stark realization. I need to meet some new people tonight.

I swing my gaze over my shoulder and scan the room.

“I want to dance,” I say, sliding off my seat.

Moments later, I get lost in the crowd.

It’s much better on the dance floor than next to David Moore, who looks like a million bucks in his black suit and light gray shirt. And the woman eager to seduce him with her head tilted to the side, a playful grin on her face, and a hungry stare that could melt a rock.

“Good luck with that, darling,” I say to myself, still observing them.

She might get laid but won’t get anything else from him tonight.

I bust some moves, a bit wobbly, with Chloe right behind me, keeping an eye on me.

The crowd moves, and I find myself back where I was––next to the bar.

Inching to the side, I inadvertently brush David’s back.He seems oblivious to me while the woman next to him doesn’t bat a lash, listening to him, transfixed.

It doesn’t even register with him that I’m right behind him.

In the meantime, being the usual sweet self, Chloe shoots her arms in the air, spinning like a drunk piñata only a couple of feet away from us.

Before long, the sensory overload makes my surroundings pull away from me and my head spin.

The rhythm pounces through my veins, ringing in my ears, matching the cadence of my breaths.

I lose myself in chaos, my heart pounding, my blood racing, my mind blank as I close my eyes.

Some guy inches closer and grinds his chest against my back, but it’s not enough of an event to pull me out of my trance.

Sweat dots my skin, and my legs get sore, yet nothing stops me.

Eventually, the tune ends, and a more mellow song follows. The man behind me uses the opportunity to introduce himself.

His name is Keith.He is a student, not pushy, and well-mannered, yet I’ve already friend-zoned him.

Not because he’s not cute or might not be fun in bed, but because I can’t be in a rebound relationship with someone like him––a nice guy who can be a good friend.

Or even a boyfriend––in case I needed one.

He’s certainly not someone I want to have a one-night stand with and never talk to again.

The more we chat, the more we slide away from the dance floor, where Chloe dances slowly in the arms of a tall, dark-haired man.

I let her be and retreat to the bar with Keith. We order drinks––a cocktail for me and a beer for him.

I’m doing great, considering the mix of alcohol and food in my stomach. Hopefully, I won’t get sick.

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