Page 91 of Filthy Little Pretties
Caroline snaps her fingers in response to my boldness, offering up her filled glass to me. “I think I’m crushing on this version of you, Donovan. But what will your boyfriends think?”
I exchange flutes and toss that one back too, licking the excess from my lips. “Fuck them. I chose me. Didn’t you hear?”
The music is turned up, and I throw my arms in the air, swaying to the bass in the back of the limo, and let myself give in, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and the fire in my bones sets in.
Don’t think. Just be. Fuck everything.
Day turned to night quickly. We shopped all afternoon, filling the trunk and having to call another car to deliver the rest of our bags back to our respective houses, but not before changing outfits for tonight’s festivities. We went to dinner, barely ate, all while socializing and being seen as Caroline put it. But we were mostly seen opting for smoke breaks and more alcohol. Now we’re at a very exclusive club, full of socialites and celebrities, all the world’s assholes packed onto the dance floor, pulsating with the music in two-thousand-dollar microminis and shredded Givenchy jeans.
It’s everything I’m the most familiar with, and no matter how loud the voice is getting in the back of my mind, screaming at me to stop before this train derails, I drown it out with more of everything—especially booze and denial.
My entire body is buzzing as my feet leave the ground, jumping to the breakdown in the music and throwing my arms in the air. Kai took the deejay stand about a half hour ago, taking the crowd from well-dressed socialites to sweaty hedonistic subjects. He’s king here. It’s incredible—he spins like the Christian Grey of music, dominating, and all I want to scream is “yes, please, and more, sir.” It’s a wonder he commits even as much as he does to Caroline, because with so many eyes on him, the choices are endless.
Choices.No, fuck that. Choices are the devil’s way of reminding you that you’ll lose.
Some random guy comes up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and grinding against my backside. I melt into him willingly and reach back to grab the back of his neck, letting my body lose itself in the music. Caroline smiles as she dances closer to my front, throwing an arm over my shoulder, and brings a little white pill to my lips.
Molly made an appearance a few hours ago, turning Caroline into the friendliest person imaginable. I’d passed originally, but now my resolve is weak. Fuck it. Her fingers brush my lips with half of a pill right as we’re bumped, causing her hand to falter and drop my happy onto the floor.
I look down at the booze-soaked cement and back to Caroline’s amused face.
“Shit.”
Caroline starts laughing hysterically, and I join in like the drunken fool I am, falling into her and forgetting there was anyone behind me dancing. The next song starts, and the electronic beats rouse the room into a frenzy. I shake my head side to side, tossing my hair and yelling out, pumping my arms up at Kai as he smiles down at us.
“Wooo!”
“I need more water.”
Caroline yells it into my ear, grabbing my hand, and I nod as she tugs me back to our booth. She’s become my favorite person tonight, probably because I’m wasted, and she’s rolling hard, but my favorite nonetheless. She uncharacteristically plops down into the plush maroon booth and leans over, grabbing another bottle of water after tossing her empty one onto the seat. She twists the top and chugs it back, also uncharacteristic of someone usually so pristine. I like her better when she’s grimy. Her bad and my bad get along just fine.
I grab the bottle of champagne from the table, realizing it’s not champagne but vodka, and begin to look up for the ice bucket, but it’s decidedly missing.
“Yes,” Caroline moans, as she rubs her back over the fabric, enjoying the hypersensitivity from the molly, and closes her eyes.
“Where the fuck is the ice bucket?”
Leaning over the table, I search through the bottles, coming up empty. I look over my shoulder, a realization beginning to take root.
“What’d you say? Oh my God, you have to feel this, it’s amazing. Like a million tiny hands giving me a massage. Come here, you need this.”
Her arms outstretch, reaching up for me, her hands opening and closing and trying to coax me over, but my eyes survey the table again, a giggle escaping. “Care. Holy shit. I think we’re at the wrong table.”
“You are.”
A deep voice from behind me makes me jump with a squeal attached, almost dropping the Grey Goose bottle, but whoever the voice belongs to reaches out and grabs it, using the other to steady me. I turn around, embarrassed, immediately staring into a set of bright green eyes. The handsome stranger leans in, making me stumble back in reaction, my ass hitting the table right as I grab hold of the edge of it.
“Easy,” he laughs, placing his hand on my waist, and keeps some space between us. “Where are you going?”
He’s hot. Nice smile. Beautiful eyes. And the absolute last thing I need. I already have two of those I can’t stop thinking about.Dammit, I did it again.
“Sorry. I’m turned around. We’ll go. Because there’s champagne at ours.”
He smiles down at me, and I feel so dumb. I’m not sure anything I just said even makes sense. Fuck, I’m wasted. I point my finger toward the direction I need to go and reach back behind me, tapping the table for Caroline’s attention.
“If I get champagne, will you stay?”
I blink up at him, not answering, and giggle. His persistence is cute.
