Page 90 of Never Kiss and Tell

“That man is gay,” Lionel says, sitting his cup down hard enough to jostle the table.

“How do you know?” I ask, squinting to see the man. Honestly, he’s not bad. Dark hair, dimples. But he’s not Charlie. After last night, I didn’t see him today before he went to work. It’s good to give each other space. I just don’t like it.

I’m ashamed to say I miss the deep growl of his voice and the roughness of his hands. Even his eyes, searing into me from across Lafayette’s.

“Cheré, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.” With that he stands, checking out his makeup in a compact he pulls from his pocket. “Don’t wait up,” he calls as he walks away, the sway of his hips making the rhinestones on the back of his jeans glitter under the deep red and blue lights of Euphoria.

“God, I want his confidence,” Gianna, Andi’s cousin, says before she throws back a shot of Patron. Where Gianna would lack confidence is beyond me. She’s beautiful, but she’s wild. Andi told me she once got arrested for setting her ex-boyfriend’s car on fire.

My hero.

“I want his ass,” Naomi, another of Andi’s cousins grumbles, sucking at a cube of Cosmopolitan-soaked ice.

“Oh, shut up, you two. You’re hot.”

It’s true. I don’t think there’s a mediocre person in Andi’s family.

“Come on,” Andi says, hopping down from our tall boy table and tugging down the tight hot pink mini dress she’s wearing, as it desperately fights to ride indecently up her legs. “Break’s over. Let’s dance.”

We move to the dance floor, being swallowed into the throng of writhing, sweaty bodies, moving to a mashup of a couple rap songs I don’t know. Back home, the clubs are fun, but there’s still an air of coldness. In New Orleans, everything is sex. Hot, sweaty sex.

I start dancing with Andi, moving to the beat of the music as men quickly press in around us. A man slides his hands around my front to grab my hips and sway with me. I don’t stop him, giving myself over to the grinding beat of the music and the seductive atmosphere of the club.

I smile, grinding into him with the beat of the music. It’s indecent. Naughty. If my mother saw me right now, she would ship me off to a nunnery in the middle Antarctica.

One song moves into another and we dance to the beatshamelessly. I try to imagine Charlie’s hands being the ones gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, but it’s a mistake. My body aches for him.

“What’s your name?” my partner asks, bumping his groin into me.

I smile back at him over my shoulder. He’s cute, with bright blonde curls and pretty blue eyes.

“Bailey,” I answer, having to raise my voice over the roar of the crowd. “You?”

“Pierson. How long are you in town for?”

“Until tomorrow,” I lie indifferently. I don’t want to give him any reason to try and see me another time. “You?”

“Wednesday.” He pauses when the music gets louder. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I reply, even though I know he’s lying. My hair is all over the place, my skin moist from dancing in the hot club. My makeup is probably melting down my face and my lipstick is undoubtedly gone.

When the song changes again, I disentangle myself from the man with a smile and mouth “bathroom” to Andi, who’s dancing between a couple, the girl at the back and the man in front.

“I want another drink,” she calls over a mashup of Katy Perry’sI Kissed a Girland some dubstep song I’ve never heard before. I don’t care for it, but with the alcohol in my system, I don’t have to.

I nod, stepping through the throng of people and slinking back toward the line for the bathroom. Once inside, I clean up and allow myself a second to breathe. When I catch a glimpseof myself in the mirror over the sinks, I’m surprised I don’t look like a drowned sewer rat. My makeup has spread from the heat, but after a quick wipe with a wet paper towel, it’s not bad.

Back out in the club, I lean into the bar to order a gin and tonic for Andi and a water for myself. I spot Lionel at the other end, fully locked in and making out with the guy from earlier. It reminds me of the pulsating heat between my thighs.

So, I pull out my phone.

“Miss me, already?”

My body hums from the deep timbre of Charlie’s voice. I smile, despite myself.

“Possibly.”

He pauses for a moment. “Are you horny, princess?”

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