As the song changed to a fast one, thank God, we broke apart and upped our pace, letting the music take over our bodies and guide us in the movements. It surprised me when I realized at least an hour had passed.
I turned to him and yelled over the music, “I need to find my friend!”
Not waiting for a response, I walked toward the bar, looking for Rosie over the sea of people who filled in every gap. My pulse quickened when I couldn’t find her. I forced myself to not panic and pulled out my phone. There was a text waiting for me from thirty minutes ago.
Rosie: FOUND BRENT’S REBOUND, TXT ME TOMRW. LOVEEEEEEE YOU BITCHHHH.
I would like to say that I was surprised she had left, but this was classic Rosie behavior and one of the reasons why I preferred when we hung out anywhere other than a bar or club. Inevitably, if she was single, I got left in the dust at some point for a random bar hook up. Still staring down at my phone, I made a split decision to grab life by the balls and get out of my comfort zone. Take a page out of Rosie’s playbook.
I had been thinking about Ryder all day, which was ridiculous, considering I hadn’t seen him in, how many years now? But after scrolling through his Facebook photos and replacing my memory of Ryder with an absolutely gorgeous, completely ripped adult Ryder, he had been creeping into my every thought.
Not to mention I was growing increasingly nervous to meet up with Noah in just two days. The only time that I wasn’t thinking about anything was when I was dancing with what’s his face. And if that wasn’t a sign, I wasn’t sure what was.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked bar guy, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I had never asked a guy that I had just met to go home with me. Never. It just wasn’t my thing. I was now navigating uncharted waters.
He smiled, nodding his head eagerly. “My place or yours?” he asked.
“Yours.”
Shit. Let’s hope that I wasn’t about to go home with a serial killer.