Page 63 of Exposé

"Thanks." I smiled as I tilted my chin upward.

"Where did you get it?"

Her breath reeked of booze, her hips crashing against mine as she swayed with her cup in the air.

"I don't remember." I frowned. "The internet, I think."

Whistles and screams broke out as the song changed. The blonde slipped her arm from my shoulder.

"Wait." I leaned into her as though giving her a hug. "Do you know where I can get something to pick me up?"

She pulled away, scanned my face with a megawatt smile, her lids heavy with drink. "Oh yeah. Look for Bomber." She pulled away and then disappeared between a shirtless man with a sloth hat on his head, the arms trailing down to his waist, and another wearing all plaid.

Bomber?

Who the hell was that?

I stood in the center of the room, scanning each individual and their unique appearance.

How do you tell a drug dealer apart from everyone?

Bomber could be anyone here.

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, my shoulders dropping as I pushed through the throng towards the bar.

This is impossible.

After a few moments of staring into the crowd, I moved behind the bar and leaned against the wall, giving me a wide angle of the people jumping.

Thank God we're on a solid foundation.

An older man in a thick brown leather jacket with sheep's wool around the neck stood in the corner, his teeth glowing as he smiled at the short woman slapping his hand in a brief exchange. He leaned over her and spoke into her ear. She nodded, and their hands met again.

She scampered away from the man towards her gaggle of friends with an eager smile across her face.

The man glanced down at his hands, then tucked one into his pocket, his gaze jumping up, clashing with mine.

Spiders crawled over my flesh as he smiled and took one step towards me.

Bomber.

Duh, his jacket.

Bomber broke through the crowd like a surfer carving through a wave. My stomach knotted until he stood three paces away, his head tilting down as he stared back at me. "You need something?"

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, the liquor in my veins evaporating and taking my courage along with it. "Um..."

"Yes?" He stepped closer.

"What do you have?"

"What do you need?" His eyes narrowed, and a slight smirk tugged against his lips.

"I don't know any of the street names." I crossed my arms, plumping up my breasts, my hair standing on end as though a thousand eyes judged me. "I'm kind of new to all of this."

"So you don't want anything?"

He turned, and I grabbed his arm, spinning him back towards me. "I didn't say that."

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