Page 9 of One Night Stand

Chapter Four

TARA

“ARE YOU SURE WE’RE IN the right bar?!” Ashley shouted over the blaring music as she walked into Club Moonstone with Tara lingering behind her.

“I think so?” Tara shouted back. “I tripled check the message, and he told me to meet him here!”

“Even if he is here, it’s way too crowded to find anyone. Tell you what, you got my number. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be chowing down some pizzas next door.” She turned around to leave before turning back. “And remember, shoot me a text before you run off with the guy back to his place. I’d rather not spend more time than I need to in this part of town.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Girls’ code, remember?” Tara waved her off, and Ashley walked away.

As Tara watched her friend squeeze through a crowd of frat boys and horny housewives, she looked around the club, suddenly feeling extremely alone and out of place. She made her way toward the restroom, bobbing and weaving her body through the crowd like Ashley did earlier, trying her best to avoid entering a threesome or wearing vomit as her new couture.

The wooden door was off its hinge and nearly torn to shreds when she eventually found it, stepping over a girl squirming on the floor about her dad who abandoned her as a child, and squeezing in between two plump chicks trying to put on matching lipsticks, to get to a mirror. She turned on the sink, the cold chill of the water not nearly as bothersome as it had been in the past, and splashed a sprinkle of water over both sides of her face.

“Get it together, Tara. You came here for a reason. No backing out now!” she told her reflection.

“First time here?” A voice beside her suddenly spoke up.

Tara spun her head around and saw a woman smoking a cigarette standing beside her. She had a short black pixie cut with hot pink highlights messily placed, and her nose ring was so loud and large that Tara could barely look at her without chuckling.

“What do you mean?” she asked instead, holding back her laughter.

“Name’s Debbie, but you can call me Deb. We all know why you’re here. It’s why the rest of us are all here.” She nodded. “You just don’t seem like the type who’d come to a place like this?” She leaned in closer. “Between you and me, this is more of a place for horny middle-aged woman and ugly chicks. I just come here to get high once in a while.” She stepped back. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Declan Hayes.”

The girl’s mouth fell open, the cigarette spiraling out of her mouth. “Declan Hayes? THE Declan Hayes?”

Tara gave her a perplexed look, as if she’d just walked into a world where names could kill. “Yeah…?”

“You need to leave! Get out of here fast before he notices you. Declan’s a very, very dangerous man.”

“What? Dangerous? I don’t understand. Do you know him?”

“He’s my—”

Suddenly, the restroom door flew open, and at least ten women came rushing in, all heading toward the stalls.

“What? He’s your what?” Tara shouted over to Debbie, hoping to catch her answer, but with both the sound and the crowd, Debbie was gone. Completely out of sight.

Anxiety began to build in Tara’s mind, that maybe Debbie was telling her the truth, and she should really stay clear of him. She thought about heading out the back door, walking away and joining Ashley next door, but part of her refused to let him go.

“She’s probably just his ex or something. A jealous ex who doesn’t want anyone else near him. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

She didn’t know what to do. Walking back and forth between the dance floor and the back door, pacing as she ruminated over her thoughts. Suddenly, a hand tapped her shoulder.

DECLAN

DECLAN ROLLED OVER ON HIS BED, hoping to grab his pillow and snuggle back to sleep with it. He was surprised when he grabbed a female breast instead, the feeling of squishy human skin enough to make him perk open his eyes and jump out of bed.

“Jesus, Kaitlyn! What the fuck are you still doing here?” His face fumed red, then turned pale when he realized that nothing was covering the lower half of his body, and he quickly dropped his pillow over it.

Kaitlyn giggled. “Silly, pickle. I know what your dick looks like.” She reached across the bed and tugged on the pillow. “And I especially know what it feels like… inside me.” She winked.

“Kaitlyn, stop! I mean it!” He yelled as he fought the pillow away from her. Declan was much, much stronger, and one tug too hard sent Kaitlyn tumbling onto the ground. “And I’m not your pickle.”

“What the hell?” Kaitlyn stumbled as she tried to stand the first time, tripping over the sheet of the bed and falling back down. When she finally managed to get back onto her feet, she gave Declan a light smack on his thick arm and said, “Stop messing around, pickle. I know you’ll never hurt me. Now, how about you come back to bed, and I’ll give you a special massage.” She winked at him and grabbed his hand.