Page 19 of Defiled Innocence

No. Absolutely not.

“Yeah. I think we went to school together.” Pretty boy slides a little closer to me.

“NYU?” I play along with him. His smile gets even wider, like a boy who’s just been let into the candy store after hours.

“Yeah!”

“Sorry. I went to Hunter College.”

His smile drops, but he recovers quickly. “Oh, my sister went there. Maybe I saw you at one of the parties.”

I shake my head. At least he’s quick on his feet.

“I doubt it.”

“Well, anyway. I’m Brad.” He leans his elbow on the bar and gives what I’m sure he thinks is his best smoldering look.

“Nice to meet you, but I’m not really looking for company.”

“Here you go!” The bartender reappears, sliding an Amaretto sour on a small napkin my way. “Everything good here?” He eyes Brad.

I turn toward my drink. “Everything’s fine. Thanks.” I pick up my drink and take a sip through the tiny bar straw. It’s perfect.

“Hey, maybe we got off on the wrong foot.” Brad moves even closer to me.

I notice now that he’s unbuttoned the top three buttons, trying to show off his chest, but other than a small patch of hair, there’s not much to see. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows and there’s a thick gold necklace dangling around his neck.

I’m not really sure which cliché he was going for when he got dressed tonight.

“No. We’re good.” I try to brush him off as I turn to find a corner to enjoy my drink in, but he’s not very good at taking signals.

“What’s your name, at least give me that,” he shouts into my ear from behind me. It’s loud enough to hurt, so I cover my ear and spin around to face him. My drink spills over a little, and droplets of it land on his silver button-down.

He spreads his arms out, like I’ve just struck him instead of spilled a few drops of orange juice on him. “What the fuck, man?”

Pretty boy pulls at his shirt, trying to rub away the little dark spot where some of the juice landed. When it doesn’t go away, because, well, because you can’t wipe off liquid, his cheesy smile fades. His jaw clenches and that little dimple he had before disappears.

“I’m sorry. You yelled in my ear. It startled me.” I try to take a step back, but he grabs hold of my arm.

“Where are you going? We’re just getting started.”

The music changes over and the crowd erupts with more energy. Someone bumps into him from behind and he uses theopportunity to lean into me. My drink hits his chest and more spills.

“Fuck!” he yells, again in my ear.

I try to pull away from him. “I’ll get you some napkins.” Not that it will do any good.

“No. You stay here.” He grabs me again. “You ruined my shirt, the least you can do is dance with me.”

Brad takes the glass from me and downs what’s left of the drink.

“Let’s go.” He jerks his head toward the exit near the back of the club.

“No.” I spin, ready to rush back to the bar, but he snags my wrist and yanks me back to him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Spit hits my cheek as he yells in my ear again. His chest is pressed to my back, and he wraps his arm around my waist.

I pull my arm forward, aiming my elbow for his stomach, but in the next breath I’m free of his grasp. Stumbling forward, I catch myself before I fall to the floor.

---