Coder Girl 2 /Dreamwastaken/

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I was so angry while getting ready that I pulled out the sluttiest clothes I owned. I found a dress in my closet that I had ordered online for my graduation afterparty but ended up not wearing because it ended up being way too tight and risky.

And now I finally had the perfect opportunity to wear it.

I slipped into it and hesitantly looked myself up and down in the mirror. The wrinkle between my eyebrows immediately softened when I saw the way the dress hugged my body. After spending so much time at home in baggy shirts, it was refreshing and a bit shocking to see myself in a small, tight dress.

A small smile finally tugged at my lips as I did a quick turn in the mirror.

Perfect.

All that was left to do was fry my hair and put on some makeup, which unsurprisingly took an additional hour and a half. After adding some final touches, I slipped into a pair of heels that were fairly comfortable to move in and checked myself in the mirror one last time.

I cleaned up nice. Clay would lose his mind. Too bad he won't see me cause he's probably busy looking at other girls.

No. Stop. Breathe.

I made my way back to Nick’s room. The door was open when I walked in, and I saw him already dressed, the room smelling like an expensive fuckboy, and him at his desk clasping a watch around his wrist.

"Don't flex too hard now," I teased, my heels clicking on the floor as I entered the room.

Nick made a small sound as his mouth hung open for a moment, letting his eyebrows rise high as he took in the sight of me.

"God damn." He mumbled, his eyes trailing up and down my body slowly.

I rolled my eyes playfully as he shamelessly let his eyes wander over my body. He clearly had no problem making it pretty obvious how his gaze landed on my thighs for a few extra seconds before moving back up to my face.

I couldn't help but feel a little pleased by his reaction. I had tried hard, and this felt rewarding.

"Look at the back," I said, doing a slow turn so he could see the open back and how good it looked with my spine tattoo. It was my favorite part of the whole look and I didn't hesitate showing it off.

But as I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder, I noticed his eyes weren't focused on the back at all. The idiot was staring at my ass.

"Looks really fucking good," he complimented, and I wasn't sure if he was referring to the back or where his eyes were.

I sighed and turned back around, "Should we go then?"

Nick’s gaze met mine as he spoke. "Right, yeah. We should."

He quickly grabbed his car keys and phone from his desk, throwing one last glance to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything before walking over to me.

"Maybe you shouldn't drive..." I looked at the keys, imagining the potentially lethal drive home while he was drunk.

"I won't get too drunk, don't worry," he said with a knowing look, "you're under my supervision, after all."

"I can take care of myself," I frowned. "You can have fun without worrying about me. I'm not going to drink anyway."

Days like this, I'm annoyed at myself for having alcohol intolerance. Everyone else gets to have fun getting wasted, while I'll probably end up wasting time feeling anxious around drunk people.

Why did I even decide to do this? Just to annoy Clay? I really should start thinking things through better.

Nick shook his head and silently led me to his freshly washed car. It looked too good to resist, and we looked too good to pass up the chance to take his car for a ride.

And the ride was anything but quiet. Nick had turned up the music so loud that the bass was thumping through my whole body already without even reaching the club yet. It was making my bones feel like they were vibrating and him screaming along to the lyrics was an assault on my eardrums.

He was driving fast too, taking the turns sharp enough to make me dizzy and speeding past other cars. I would be worried and scared, and I should've been. But I'm not joking when I say this was nothing compared to Clay'd driving. I've seen worse. So much worse.

"Alright, we're there," he announced, making me look up from my phone.

The club he picked looked nice. At least from the outside. And after finally parking the car, Nick made sure to open the door for me and stood in front of me, waiting patiently for me to step out, which was a double struggle in a short dress and high heels. He made sure to block the view for the people crowded outside just in case my dress rode up too far.

"Thank you," I fixed my dress, appreciating his gesture more than he could imagine.

"No worries. Try to stick by my side, alright?" He closed the car door and offered me his hand. I took it, and we started walking towards the entrance. "If I'm not next to you and somebody tries to bother you, you run straight to me. But like try not to get too far from me."

"Nick, I can deal with them myself, relax." I was too stubborn to agree without making a fuss about it, but I really didn't want him to babysit me.

He let out an audible groan as I spoke, rolling his eyes at me. He knew that the chances of me doing something dumb just to prove a point was a huge risk, so he chose a safe answer.

"Yeah, I know you can. But I don’t want you to. Not when I'm here."

I could work with that. Clay would probably say something sarcastic and piss me off.

And I should probably stop thinking about him every three seconds.

Anyways, as we walked towards the entrance, he held onto my hand tight, making sure to keep me close to him just like he said. We showed our IDs, he paid, and we were in.

The entrance of the club was immediately a sensory overload and a huge regret. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright and flashing in every direction, the place was too crowded, the people were too drunk. But then again, what did I expect?

Nick immediately scanned the surroundings, probably mentally mapping out the place and looking for the bar.

And right away, there was a guy giving me his best attempt at drunkenly licking his lips and smirking. The second surge of regret washed over me. Nick glared at the guy and pulled me closer to him.

"Let’s go get drinks," he said, wrapping his arm around my waist and guiding me towards the bar.