Intoxicated

Four

Twenty minutes later, I was dressed in Bri's slip on nude silk dress and heels that I really hated but wore because I wanted to look good. I told myself I wanted look good for myself but I knew it was for Dave.

And when I'd stepped outside, where he was waiting by his car, I'd gotten the exact wide-eyed-open-mouth look I was going for. Though he recovered a bit too quickly for me to say anything, I'd caught him staring and that made me smile.

"Who is going to be at this party?" I asked when we'd parked somewhere in lower Manhattan.

"My friends." Dave answered.

He waited a brief moment for me to step outside the car and when I did proceeded to walk away.

I stumbled in Bri's heels - cursing myself for even thinking that I could walk in them - but followed quickly.

His party with friends was inside a nightclub. It wasn't a fancy club like most in Manhattan but something told me it was a lot better than anything in Brooklyn. He'd led me to a big nosy table before leaving me after saying something about drinks.

It had been fifteen minutes and I was still at the table, no Dave, no drinks.

"Hey."

Startled, I jumped. When I turned to face the speaker, I felt the cushions of the booth dip under his weight.

Golden brown hair, blue eyed and tan in that surfer way. He was a drop-dead gorgeous as Dave.

"Hi." I said quietly, a smile playing on my lips.

"I've never seen you before, what's your name?"

"Lyla."

He passed me one of the drinks he was holding. A mojito by the looks of it.

"Oh no thank you, Dave said he was bringing me-"

"Dave? Dave Franco?"

Dave hadn't told me his last name but I reckoned we were speaking of the same Dave so I nodded.

"He's not coming back for a while-"

"What do you mean?"

The beautiful stranger pointed in the direction of the dance floor and I turned, my eyes searching.

It didn't take me long to find him. He was in the middle of the dance floor, a half naked blonde glued to his hips and his lips glued to her neck.

Disappointment washed over me.

I was more disappointed in myself than I was with him. Of course he wasn't taking me to this party because he wanted to. Of course it didn't matter to him how I looked or what high heels I wore, I wasn't his type. Plain and simple. I was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"Oh." I said quietly.

"You want a drink or not?" The stranger asked again.

My gut told me it wasn't safe to accept drinks from a guy that I've never met or anyone at all at this club but I also wanted to forget what I'd just seen going down on the dance floor so I nodded.

"Better not drug me." I growled, glancing up at his blue eyes before I took a sip.

"I'm not that kind of guy."

The drink was sweet, in a weird kind of way. I had never been a fan of drinking but then again, all that's offered at college parties is jungle juice or cheap beer. This drink tasted just like juice, maybe a little tangy from the alcohol but it was good enough for me to keep sipping.