Page 28 of From You to Me

His touch felt foreign and distant. I wasn’t sure whether I liked it. I sighed as we moved through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. The music was jarring and a bit too loud for my taste.

I hated going to clubs, especially after the little stints I pulled off in LA. It reminded me of those dark times, and I hated being reminded of that.

The Box was the go-to place for NYC’s partygoers, elusive and exclusive to a certain crowd. We sure wouldn’t even have gotten inside if it wasn’t for Marcus. Not at all like the hole-in-the-wall seedy pubs that Gabe and I usually go to that offered cheap drinks.

Marcus led us up a circular staircase with the sign Private written on it. I tried to keep up with him as best as I possibly could with my knee as we trotted to the first floor.

Two burly guards flanked another set of stairs situated at the far end.

“That’s the VVIP room,” Marcus told me, noticing my gawking.

“Who cares! Let’s get more drinks, bitches!” Gabe pulled me inside.

The room was a replica of the main floor, only a bit calmer and sparse. The music in this room was much more bearable.

“Evy, I’m so glad you could make it. I thought you would brush me off.” Marcus slides up next to me, a little too close for my comfort.

“No.” I chuckled awkwardly. “I was going to text you back. But it completely slipped my mind.”

“So that means I still have a shot?”

“Ugh?”

His face transformed into a sly grin. “To take you out?”

“Yeah, I guess.” My lips curved into a jittery smile. I clutched my drink, bringing it to my lips as I drank a healthy amount to calm my nerves.

He held out his hand. “Can I have a dance?”

I looked at him with wide eyes as I shakily grasped his hand. He grinned as he took me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room. Dancing was a very bad idea with my fucked-up knee, but at least I was wearing my sensible soft chunky loafers.

Rory and Gabe soon joined us, jumping and grinding to the music. And me—I was pretty sure a robot could dance better than whatever the fuck I was doing. My stiffened limbs tried their best to move along with Marcus, who had his hand gripped around my hips, twirling and twisting me.

And I failed miserably each time. I was not feeling this one bit.

“Are you having fun?” Marcus whispered into my ear.

I nodded as I gave him a small smile.

This was going to be a very long night.

After two more Long Islands and three awkward conversations about Marcus’s Aunt Dolores, I decided that enough was enough and stood.

It took me a moment to orient myself from my drunkenness. “I’m going to pee,” I announced, and I didn’t wait for an answer as I walked outside.

“Evy, wait,” Gabe called out, following me.

“I swear to God, Gabe, if he talks about his aunt Dolores one more time, I’m going to hurl a bottle on the wall.”

Gabe’s face scrunched up. “Stop being dramatic. I’ll admit the Aunt Dolores story was boring, but you can’t have the best of both worlds, chica. He is cute, decent, and safe.”

“What if I didn’t want safe?” I mumbled under my breath.

“Oh, sorry.” A soft body crashed into me from the side as I passed through the hallway.

My shoulders hit Gabe as I tried to steady myself. “It’s okay,” I said to a mass of black hair in my face.

I heard a quiet giggle before she straightened up, rolling her body to face me.

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