Page 33 of Lovingly Restored

“We weren’t…” I start, but it’s not worth it. “Let’s go.”

I’ll be at the bar soon, and I can burn off the tension that’s been building in our close quarters.

“You be careful tonight,” Isaac calls out as we make our way down the stairs to the front yard. He stands in the doorway, watching our car until we’re out of sight, and his warning makes me want to do the exact opposite.

Infinity is the only establishment that has a designated place for dancing in West Isle. It’s just different enough from the pubs and bars that host local musicians and serve craft beer. The music tonight features remixes of modern rock songs, and the crowd is thick. Exposed brick lines the wall behind the bar, the rows of liquor bottles arranged on live-edge shelving.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” I scream.

Anna shakes her head. “What!”

There’s no point trying to talk. That’s not why we’re here anyways. The answer to my question is obvious anyway. We don’t do this anymore because I’m boring. I know it, and Isaac knows it. A wave of resistance rolls over me at the thought. I don’t want to be uptight and high-strung. Not tonight. Swirling the ice of my third mojito with my straw, I suck back the last sips of the citrusy rum.

I bounce off my barstool the best I can in a tight dress. “C’mon.”

The songs are blending together, and I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been dancing. I pull my hair off the nape of my neck then fan myself to dry the sheen of sweat gathering on my hot skin. The drinks have kicked in and the confidence coursing through me is the confirmation that this night out is exactly what I needed. Anna nudges my arm and gestures behind me. A moving wall of muscle is dancing close to my back, black tee tight around his biceps and bold tattoos climbing from the v-neck onto his throat. I recognize him from the line up outside. My glance is all he needs to snake his arm around my waist, an open palm rests boldly against my lower stomach. My eyes go wide and Anna shrugs and smiles as if to say, ‘You do you, girl!’

His arms are strong, and he keeps us moving in a steady rhythm with the music. As far as guys at clubs go, he’s cute and a good dancer.

“I’m Jason!” His cologne is strong; the heat of the club amplifying the scent.

“Ashlyn!”

His hold tightens on me, and a bead of his sweat drips onto my bare shoulder.

Gross.

I push the rude thought away. I’m sweaty, too.

“You come here often?”

“Not lately.”

His eyes are so dark it’s hard to make out where his iris ends and the pupil begins. So different from looking into Isaac’s blue, white-flecked eyes. Good. Different than Isaac isgood.A wave of nausea overcomes me. Alcohol, heat, and Jason’s cologne are a powerful trifecta. The beat fades before another deeper bass line takes over. I peel his hands off my churning stomach, but he mistakes my action for wanting to turn to face him. Spinning me around, he adjusts his grip. Dizziness encircles me, the flashing lights blurring. Jason is pressing his groin against my thigh, hardness obvious beneath his dark jeans. Okay. That’s enough. I lift my head to tell him I’m done being dry humped, but we aren’t on the same page. Parted lips descend upon me as he leans in for a kiss. Horrified at the thought, I turn my head at the last moment and the sloppy smooch lands on my ear instead. Anna grabs my elbow, signalling to Jason that it’s time for us to go. This is why you take a sidekick to the club. He sneers at me before waving me off like he isn’t interested. The pressure against my thigh a moment ago told a different story, but whatever. My stomach clenches again. I have to get off the dance floor.

Anna clutches my arm. “You okay?”

“Those drinks were strong. I’m too hot.” My speech sounds slow.

“I think we should get some fresh air,” she says, rubbing my back.

We snake through the writhing bodies, my pumps sticking to the black flooring in spots where syrupy drinks were spilled. Anna has a good grasp on my hand, and relief courses through me when I see the exit. Why the hell did I pack a condom? Being grinded on by Jason grossed me right out. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever go back to a stranger’s place to have sex or invite one back to my apartment. Apparently, I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. I spend my days working with people triple my age, reading, and gardening. It appears that my clubbing life is over. Isaac, the instinctive bastard, is right. And that pisses me right off. I shift my weight around, trying to relieve the throbbing in the balls of my feet and the hot spots on my baby toes while I wait for Anna to grab our coats. I spot Jason fully lip locked with a curvy blonde. He sure got over my rejection quickly. Anna pushes my leather coat towards me, and I fold it over my arm as we escape the stifling heat and noise of the club.

“Put that on.”

“I’m still hot.”

“You’re sweaty. Put it on so you don’t catch a chill.”

I fumble around in my clutch for my phone.

“I got it.” Anna pulls her phone out, adjusting it around her hoop earring.

“It’s ringing busy,” she says.

I’m not listening, too busy scrolling through the contacts in my phone. Isaac is saved as ‘Roomie’ alongside a photo of a monster truck. I set that up the day he moved in. In case of grandma-related emergencies. The mojitos make it seem pretty hilarious, and I giggle as I press dial.

Anna shoots me an annoyed look. “Jesus, you’re a lightweight.”