Page 4 of Vicious Arrangement
I gasp, and a part of me knows he’s joking but the rest of me’s outraged. “Do you think I do this for a living? Go to bars and throw water on men for a quick feel?”
“If the jug fits…”
“Well,” I snap, trying not to be turned on by him, trying not to let his scent and touch wind me inside out and back again, “I don’t. It’s not a calling card, just an accident.”
He goes to say something else when a small, black haired drunken missile stumbles into us, and the hottest man I’ve seen steps back to give Katie space.
“Ari,” she says, slurring, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
I shove the empty jug at the guy and take Katie, pushing through the smallest line to get into one of the four bathrooms.
One girl glares. “Hey?—”
“She can vomit on you if you like.”
“Gross!” the girl says, motioning to the restroom.
A minute later, the door opens, and I get Katie into the one-toilet room just in time. I lock the door, lift the seat, and hold back her hair, smoothing my hand down her back as she violently throws up.
When she finally stops dry heaving, I wash her face and use my hand to feed her some water to rinse with.
“Stay,” I order, flushing and leaving her on the floor, head on the now-closed seat.
I’m not worried about how long we’re taking. There are other restrooms for girls. But I don’t want Katie to go out there until she feels a little better. She’s still drunk, but the excess is out.
“Why’d you let me drink so much, Ari?” she says, leaving half the words out. “Not right.”
I stroke her hair. “I know, baby, I know.”
“You are pretty. Can I have your hair?”
From wavy to frizz and curl central in an instant? “Sure thing.”
“Were you talking to a Hotty MacHotty pants?” she asks.
I groan. “No, apologizing to an arrogant fool.”
“Oh. I love you. I’m thirsty.” She sits up, staggering. “I need some water.”
With that, we leave the bathroom. It’s been about fifteen minutes according to the clock in my head, and Brie and another friend pour Katie water from a fresh pitcher.
Taking a breath, I look around for my hot nemesis, but he doesn’t seem to be here. And I even go for a small walk, just to see.
He’s gone.
Instead of relief, my contrary libido sinks. Maybe it’s because I’m lonely, and after my rather nasty breakup more than a few months ago, I could just want some attention.
But for all his arrogance and over the top confidence, I remember the feel of his dick growing bigger, getting harder. That’s embarrassing, intriguing, something I wouldn’t mind touching again. Yet it’s more than that. He was funny, charming and apart from the insanely hot thing, he was clearly flirting with me.
Me.
As people in our group start to peel off for home or more fun, I gather Katie and say goodnight to Brie. Luke’s already left, and I figure it’s time to get the birthday girl home.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, and adding Katie’s I hail a cab outside, and we head to Katie’s Greenpoint apartment on Java Street in Brooklyn.
Once there, I help her change and put her to bed. Then I put an aspirin and a glass of water by her bed, along with her gift.
I should go home. But I can’t face heading back out into the night. My limbs are heavy with lack of sleep, and I grab a blanket, kick of my shoes and curl up on the sofa in Katie’s living room.
