The Mafia's Flower Boy

Chapter 3

I quickly do some makeup in the bathroom mirror, smudging some eyeliner in my waterline and a couple passes of mascara to make my eyes pop. A warm breeze flows lightly around my room, carrying the sweet scent of summer as music bounces off the walls of my bedroom. I dance along, singing quietly to myself as I sort through my clothes, trying to find the perfect outfit to wear out. After much deliberation I smile at myself, looking in the mirror at the outfit I decided on. I'm wearing black ripped skinny jeans that sit at the top of my hips with the top line of my boxers peeking out reading 'ADIDAS'. I pair this with a simple black, white, and blue striped crop top that is fitted to my torso, but not skin tight. I contemplate throwing a flannel over the outfit for added comfort, but decide it would be too hot and would be annoying to keep track of while drunk, so I throw on my converse and grab the tequila and orange juice bottle that I prepared earlier, to pregame on the way.

The walk to the club is uneventful, as I pass strangers on the streets and hear the rustle of mice scurrying through the dumpsters in restaurant alley ways. I know that I'm close to my destination when the sidewalk starts to vibrate and the music drifts into my ears. Surprisingly I get inside relatively quickly, and make my way to the bar, immediately doing a shot of tequila.

As the music vibrates through my body, reverberating in my chest and the alcohol courses through my veins, making me feel warm and fuzzy, I find myself melting into the crowd. My body feels like liquid as I dance between couples making out and friends letting loose. As I'm enjoying myself in a crowd full of strangers I feel free, as light as a feather. I don't have to worry about what is happening in my life, about work, or hot mysterious men; I can just let it all go and focus on the music.

I become so accustomed to the hot bodies moving against my own that I don't notice the one behind me until he grabs my waist and leans down to whisper in my ear, "How about I buy you a drink, cutie?"

My heart almost stops in my chest and I am grateful that my cheeks were flushed pink from the heat so that he couldn't see the blush I was currently sporting, as I turn around to find a very attractive man. His hazel eyes scan my body, as mine do the same, taking in his towering height, well built body, tattoos covering it. He has curly brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, with a couple hairs falling into his face and his tanned skin almost glows underneath the club lights. I nod my head and smile up at him, before grabbing his hand to drag him to the bar.

"So cutie, what is it you'd like to drink?" His hot breath cascades down my neck as his lips brush the shell of my ear, and his cologne invades my senses in the best way.

I feel like my brain stopped working for a moment before I stutter out, "A-a strawberry margarita with a sugar rim, please."

His eyes light up in amusement, muttering 'cute' under his breath, turning to the bartender, and ordering my drink as well as a Jack and Coke on the rocks for himself. "So cutie, what's your name?"

"Rowan, yours?" I ask back, taking a sip of my drink.

"I'm Micah, what are you doing here alone?" He asks, the baritone in his voice sends shivers down my spine.

"The same thing anyone else is, trying to have fun?" I giggle, starting to feel properly drunk. "Are you here alone?" I ask, genuinely curious as I hadn't seen him before he came up to me, so I didn't know if he had friends with him.

He smiles down at me, dimples popping up on either side of his smile, "No, I'm not alone, the rest of my friends are in the VIP section."

"VIP?" I mutter out dumbly, as I know what it is, I just didn't expect it. I clear my throat, hoping he didn't catch that and continue on, "So what are you doing out of the VIP section, Mr. Fancy?" I joke, resting my hand on his bicep.