Confessions of a Twenty-Something City Girl

Back in the Fast Lane

"Hi you," Noah answers softly.

"Mr. Westbrook!" I squeal, my intoxicated state causing me to momentarily forget that I am mad at Noah.

"Where are you?" he asks, "Drop your pin. I'll come get you."

"I'm still at the party!..." I trail off for a minute, "But I do need a ride, and I just — I need you."

"Don't move. I'll be right there." Noah hangs up.

A whirlwind of emotions hits me: mad, happy, horny, hungry—and cold. It's freezing outside. Maybe I should head back inside. I sigh and shuffle back into the club, making my way to the VIP area.

"There she is!" Russ' face lights up when he spots me. The girl in the orange dress is cozied up next to him.

"Back for round two?" Breaker smirks.

"I'm actually waiting for my ride. Early morning!" I reply, as a photographer approaches and flashes a quick smile before raising his camera to capture the moment.

"Photoshoot time! Get in here, Kingston!" Russ calls out, waving me over with enthusiasm. He whips out his phone and snaps a selfie of us, our fingers playfully pointing at each other, as we strike a pose.

"Can I get one more shot of the four of you?" The photographer asks, gesturing to Russ, his new girl, me, and Breaker.

"Hell yeah!" Russ cheers, pulling the girl in the orange dress closer to him.

"Care to dance?" Breaker asks, grabbing my hand and spinning me, clearly putting on a show for the camera.

As the photographer snaps away, Russ excitedly jumps up. "You fucking made it! I didn't think you were going to show! A bit underdressed, but that's cool," Russ shouts.

I turn to see Noah, dressed in grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a snug white t-shirt that accentuates his athletic build. I can tell he just came from the gym. He looks sexier than ever, and his face shows a mix of relief and exasperation as he approaches.

"What's up, man?" Noah fist-bumps Russ. "We were actually about to leave; we've got an early flight tomorrow." He turns to me, "You ready?"

I glance at Noah and am mesmerized by his pink, parted lips. All I can think about is kissing him. I smile and nod. "Later, boys!"

Russ gives me an exaggerated wink, his way of saying busted. "Have a great night, Kingston!" He teases.

I glance at Breaker, who is shifting his gaze between Noah and me. "See you on Friday," he smiles mischievously.

As Noah guides us out of the VIP section, I stumble over my feet and grab onto him to catch my fall. "Are you okay?" he asks, his concern genuine.

"I'm drunk. Like, very, very drunk," I admit. "And hungry. And horny! I need tacos injected directly into my soul. Can you help me with any of those things?"

Noah's stern expression softens, and for the first time tonight, a genuine smile breaks through. He chuckles, shaking his head, "Yes, let's go." With effortless strength, he hoists me over his shoulder, pulling down my gold dress so my bare cheeks don't peek out.

"Noah!" I giggle, wriggling. "Put me down!"

"You've officially lost your walking privileges." He replies, then quickly shifts the subject, "Who was the Brit?"

"Some famous actor guy," I reply. "Oh yeah! He's playing a sportswriter in his new movie and wants to shadow me on Friday."

"I'm sure that's not all he wants to do to you," He mutters under his breath, opening the club doors to exit. "I'm not approving that."