Page 3 of Avoiding Temptation
“Whoa this place looks...fancy,”I say as I walk beside Eddie towards the club he’s spent almost all day telling me about. Suddenly, the little black Primark dress I thought looked pretty hot when I was in the fitting room first thing this morning doesn’t seem good enough.
Looking down, I run my palm over the figure-hugging fabric and let out a sigh.
“You look stunning,” Eddie whispers, assuming correctly where my thoughts are at. “That look suits you much better than the twinsets I’d become used to.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, but when I glance up, I see a little fire in his eyes as he drops them down my body. I stand up a little straighter. I don’t want him looking at me that way, but if he is, then it must mean I don’t stand out like an outsider trying to force my way into a new life.
Eddie walks straight up to the bouncer and gives him his name. Glancing over my shoulder, I take in the long line of people waiting to get in. This place, The Avenue, is clearly popular, and I can’t help yearning to be part of that crowd. It might sound crazy because almost anyone would love to be in my position now, being waved through to go to the VIP section, but all I want is a normal life. I want to blend in with the crowd and disappear.
“Come on,” Eddie says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him when he realises that I’m not following. “What’s wrong? You want to join the peasants?”
His words have anger burning in my stomach. Does he really think he’s so special? Pulling my hand from his, I follow him up the stairs to the second floor before we walk around the edge of the vast room to another set of stairs that are guarded by security and sectioned off with a red rope. The music is so loud, it vibrates through my bones, but I can’t deny that it doesn’t make me want to dance.
Eddie speaks to the bouncer as if he’s a regular—which he probably is—giving me a chance to look around.
I’ve always wondered if clubs are like they’re portrayed on the TV, and standing here right now I can confidently say yes. Everything about this place is exactly what I was expecting. Its floors are polished black with silver flecks, and all the fittings are chrome with huge glass chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. The bar is packed, the queue of people at least five deep as they wait a little impatiently for their next drink. But the majority of the room is given over to a dance floor where hundreds of bodies move and gyrate to the beat.
I’m totally lost watching their movement when Eddie slips his arm around my waist and moves me towards the stairs.
“We can dance later if you like. I need a few drinks first to loosen up a little.”
A shudder runs down my spine. I’m not sure I want him loosened up. He’s free enough with his hands as it is.
Gritting my teeth and fighting my need to step away from his touch, I allow him to guide me up to the bar.
The difference in the clientele up here is stark, and it only increases my desire to go back down and mix with the masses. I look around at the designer suits and fancy dresses, and it’s just like being in the middle of my old life where everyone’s biggest concern was how they looked and how much money they had.
Eddie leans over when the barman comes over. At no point does he look back to ask what I want, which irritates the hell out of me. I know he’s been my confidant over the past few years, but he couldn’t possibly know what I want to drink right now.
It’s only a few seconds later when I realise why he didn’t bother asking, because the barman reappears with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Eddie hands over his credit card before grabbing his purchase and leading me over to the balcony. He places the glasses down on one of the high tables and pulls over two stools for us to sit on. Glad to have some space, I pull the stool a little closer to the glass balcony that allows us to look down over the dancefloor below.
It’s like I blink and there’s a glass of champagne shoved under my nose. I guess now wouldn’t be the best time to tell him that I don’t really like the stuff.
“To new starts, new jobs, and...friendships.” His eyes twinkle as he says the final word. “I’m so glad you reached out when you did. I think this is where you’re meant to be.”
“Eddie, I—” I’m just about to explain to him that there’s not going to be anything between us when someone approaches and holds their hand out for him to shake.
The two men start talking like they’re old friends—it’s not lost on me that at no point does Eddie bother to introduce me. Clearly, I’m not that important.
Ignoring them, I take a sip of champagne and try not to turn my nose up too much. I really shouldn’t complain; it’s not like I can afford to buy my own drinks in a place like this. I dread to think how much this bottle cost. It seems that Eddie could take himself out of my old stuck-up and pretentious life, but he couldn’t remove his inner snob.
Rolling my eyes at my thoughts, I look down over the mass of bodies below. They’ve all got smiles on their faces as they dance and laugh with friends, and my muscles ache to know how that feels. Eddie is the closest thing I’ve had to a proper friend since I was a child. The thought makes my stomach drop. I’d kill to have a girlfriend to share everything with, to go shopping with and share my dreams and fears. I had that when I was a kid, but Suzi ended up moving to the States with her parents not long after we finished school, and the distance between us put pay to our friendship.
I let out a sigh as I once again think about what a lonely life I’ve lived up until this point. The knowledge that I’ve done something about it at last has a little hope starting to filter into my depressing thoughts.
I’m not all that different to the adults I’ve started teaching. For whatever reason, they’ve all decided that now’s the time to better themselves. I might not need qualifications like them, but I am in need of other things. I just hope that I’m able to find what’s missing in my life in my new home, and I don’t end up going back to where I came from with my tail between my legs, just like I’m sure they’re all expecting me to do.
Someone's exuberant dancing below catches my eye. I have to do a double-take when a familiar figure comes into focus.
It’s the guy who sat at the back of my room yesterday evening. He’s dressed similarly, only his white shirt is grey tonight, his braces firmly in place over the top, and his thick-rimmed glasses sit on his face. That’s where the similarities end, because where he was a little unsure of himself last night, right now he’s full of confidence as he dances with a group of friends.
I can’t pull my eyes away as he pulls a petite redhead into his body and wraps his tattooed arms around her waist. Their hips move together in time with the music. They’re so in sync they could be making love.
Jealousy hits me like a truck. It’s not because I want to be the redhead—I don’t think—but because I want that connection with someone. I want my body to connect with someone else's so easily that I don’t even need to think about it.
I find myself downing the glass in my hand, needing something to dampen the emotion bubbling up my throat. I continue watching and, before long, he spins the redhead away from him and pulls the equally tattooed man standing to the side of him to dance.
Oh…
