Page 7 of Going for Gold (Sweet Cravings 3)

"Well, I'm never going to complain about you being late because of those." He slowed his pace to let me get a few steps ahead of him. "They make your ass look so good."

"That's exactly why I wore them." I looked back at him with a seductive smile and made sure to shake my ass as much as possible as we approach Club Blue.

The club looked insane. We were still at least 30 yards away from the building, but I could already feel the ground vibrating from the music. There were neon lights everywhere and a line snaked around the side of the building.

"You really want to celebrate by waiting in that line?" I asked.

"No way. A hot girl and a gold medalist? They'll let us right in."

We walked right up to the two gigantic Brazilian men dressed in jeans, black T-shirts, and sunglasses positioned at the entrance to Club Blue. One of them stuck his beefy arm out to block the door as the other one looked me up and down.

"Go ahead," said the bouncer to me in a thick accent. Then he turned to Chris and pointed to the back of the line. "You wait."

Chris opened up his suit jacket to reveal the gold medal around his neck. The bouncers immediately waved us through.

When I saw the inside of the club, I kind of wished they hadn't let us in.

The club consisted of a dance floor in the middle filled with sweaty people and more foam than a professionally drawn bubble bath at a five star hotel. In the front, a DJ with crazy dreadlocks spun records while girls in bikinis and neon colored boots danced in cages on either side of him. The bar to the left was manned by tan men in bike shorts covered in far more oil than could ever be considered appropriate, while the bar on the opposite side of the club was operated by girls dressed just as slutty as their male counterparts.

Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bar with the female waitresses. Shocker. After a few seconds, a brunette in a black bikini approached and smiled at Chris, ignoring me completely.

"What can I get you?" she asked, leaning over the table and pushing her breasts together.

"Let's start with a round of shots. Vodka."

"Sure thing." The girl jotted down his order on a sheet of paper and then put the back of the pen in her mouth. "If there's anything else you need, just let me know."

"Do you really think I should be having shots?" I asked. "I don't want to be hung over for my game tomorrow."

"Come on! Don't be such a party pooper."

"But my game..."

"Your game doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Asshole! Just because you have a gold medal doesn't mean I don't want one too.

"You've already qualified for the quarterfinals so it doesn't matter if you win or not."

He was right. Kind of. We had won all of our games so far and qualified for the quarterfinals, but Brazil hadn't. The only way for them to avoid being eliminated was to get a victory against us. "Of course it matters. We have a chance to take down Brazil."

"I know. But one shot isn't going to hurt you. You're so good that you could beat Brazil even with a hangover." He flashed me his stupid charming smile that always got him what he wanted.

"Alright, fine. One shot. So how does it feel to have your gold medal?"

"It's pretty awesome. But really I'm just excited to be able to bang you again."

"Uh, about that..."

The slutty waitress interrupted me by putting a tray of vodka shots on our table. I grabbed one and raised it. Chris and the waitress did the same. Really? She's going to do shots with us?

"Here's to your first gold medal!" I said and emptied the shot glass down my throat. It burned as it went down. The alcohol hit me almost immediately. I was never much of a drinker, but during training I hadn't been drinking at all. My alcohol tolerance was basically nonexistent.

"Oh my God, you won gold?!" asked the waitress.

"Yup." Chris pulled his medal out and smiled.

"That's so awesome. Come with me." The girl grabbed his arm and started dragging him up towards the DJ booth. He pulled back and downed two more shots before letting her pull him away. I awkwardly followed behind. What the hell is this girl's problem?

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