Page 72 of The Night We Met

“Don’t be. I shouldn't push you. When you refuse, that should be enough of an answer for me.”

We share a forgiving smile that only siblings seem to understand.

Kamryn

“I’d like to propose a toast to my best friend Kamryn for finishing an amazing fashion week. And for finishing up her work on her upcoming spring and fall lines. Kam, we are so proud of you. You set your mind to something and got what you wanted. Congrats, Kammy.” Sarah toasts to our group. We all clink glasses and I send a wink to her.

One blessed thing that came out of college was my solid friendship and sisterhood with Sarah. She has seen me at my lowest and me at my highest. She’s never one to judge me for my decisions. She was there for me when I thought I had no one. She helped me when no one else bothered to. I owe her more than just my undying friendship. I owe her my life.

We chat through dinner and traipse down memory lane. We plan what bars and clubs to hit, while praying this night doesn’t end in disaster.

The night is still young. We start at a restaurant I was recommended to by a few of my employees and make our way up the strip to the other bars. The girls said theywanted to celebrate all my hard work on the line, but I know what they’re playing at. They’re trying to get me to let loose and completely move on. To forget about the things that I said and did that cost me Liam. To forget the things I said that take me back to that time in place. Where I disappear and become a lesser version of myself.

After two more glasses of champagne and some too sweet shots, we make our way down the strip to a few of the bars. We flirt with college guys whose egos don’t know when they’re fighting above their weight class. Emily challenges Sarah to get two numbers before we get to the dance club. The overachiever in her gets three numbers and causes us to break out in laughter. After an over dramatic goodbye to the bar, we make our way to one of the best dance clubs in the area.

This dance club opened about a year ago and it’s grown exponentially. Their marketing team has had visitors from all over the states. It’s a place where you can be free to be yourself. As rare as it is, celebrities will make an appearance or two here. But this club is mainly for those that are looking for a place to forget about the long work week.

When the bouncer sees us walking up, he waves us on through. The groans of displeasure from those waiting in line are hard to ignore. But it’s all about who you know that grants you direct access.

“Thanks Frankie!” We all shout as we walk past him.

We walk down the dark hallway that leads to the club. The DJ is playing an awesome set and the beat flows through my body. I scan the area in hopes of finding an empty section when the owner walks up to us.

“Mike, how are you?” I greet the owner with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I knew Mike from back in high school. He was a coupleyears ahead of me, but we still ran in the same circle. Coincidentally he played football too and was an offensive lineman. Played at PennU up until his sophomore year and was forced to stop playing after breaking his leg and tearing his ACL. I felt terrible for him. He was always my favorite teddy bear. His talent on the field was unmatched and I knew he was destined for the NFL. We kept in touch and always made it a point to get dinner when I was home from college. Except for those unfortunate summers when I locked myself away from the world.

When I found out we lived in the same city, I reached out to him. With both of us being business owners, we make it a point to host events together. Networking is key to keeping your business in the mouths of those that can never seem to shut them. I have dinner with him and his wife once a month. They give me a sense of normalcy in a world that’s not so normal.

“Staying busy as always. Congrats on the last show.” He says as he wraps his arm around my shoulder.

“Thank you,” I reply in earnest.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you’ve been. I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Mike says as he leads us to our roped off section.

The anniversary of Liam’s death is coming up. It’s a date I usually spiral. But I’m hoping that’s not the case this year. My coping mechanisms are better. Therapy has given me a lot of tools that I now use on a daily basis.

“You know…” I start as I lean into him. “It hasn’t been easy. I’m trying not to focus on what’s coming up. But it’s hard.” I end on a shrug.

Mike pulls me in for a hug and places a kiss to the top ofmy head. “Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great kiddo.”

I squeeze him before letting go. “Thank you.”

Mike makes a point to tell us this section is ours for the night and that our drinks are on the house. We all loudly protest, but him having the most gracious heart in the world refuses to take our money.

Jax pops the top on the bottle of Dom Periogn that has been icing and hands out the flutes.

“To an amazing night. To all of the dancing our feet can take. To friendship. And to no regrets,” Jax promises.

Our waitress comes over to get our drink orders and supply us with water. My gaze takes in the energy of the club as the DJ plays a mix that has the beat flowing through our bodies as we dance in our roped off section. When our new drinks are dropped off at the table, we down the shots and then chase them with something stronger. I’m officially at the buzzed level of the night.

Sarah is the one that gets us out of our small bubble. She leads us to a somewhat open section on the dance floor. Laughter is drowned out by the music. People are dancing all around us with not a care in the world. And after the busy year I’ve had I use it to my advantage. Doing my best to forget about work and upcoming meetings. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me.

I startle as hands land on my waist when the DJ switches to a song that has a heavier beat. Tentatively, the stranger molds our bodies to each other. It’s not dirty or romantic. It’s almost platonic in a sense. Well, as platonic as grinding in a club can be. I’ve never been one for dancing with a stranger in the club, but nothing some innocent dancing can’t solve. My mind goes back to the trashy realityTV shows I would watch when strangers would hookup in clubs. Do people still do that? Why am I entertaining it?

My eyes close as the DJ switches up the mood by playing Chase Rice’sRide. A sultry and sexy cover of the original. Our fast grinding goes from frantic to sensual. Chase Rice sings about riding all night. Our bodies roll and gyrate. Our hands crossed across my torso. My head falls back against his shoulder as his head falls into the crook of my neck. Soon he brings one of my hands up to curl around his neck to anchor us from head to toe. It’s almost as if we’re the only two to exist.

I scold myself that it’s only dancing. That he’s a random guy. But as hard as I try to wrap my mind around that I’ll never see this guy again, my mind tricks me into thinking I will.

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