NadechYaya: Racing in the Rain

Prologue

"Come on Ya, have a little fun!"

I roll my eyes as my friends continue to lure me into the dance floor, under the blinding lights that would make someone more intoxicated than the exact alcohol that everyone has been chugging down their throats.

I down another glass of cool vodka, wincing at the sharp sting of its reflux. I aggressively lean back against the sofa, crossing my arms over my chest. This is not how I imagined my first day back home would be, but I just have to get away from everyone, as usual.

The loud vibrations of the music were mimicked inside my chest, pulsing and banging. My eyes drifted to the pool of people, flooding the dance floor. Their erratic movement almost took up the entire place, but for some reason, despite being all over the place, matched the rhythm of the vibe the bar was giving.

Huffing another frustrated breath, I gulp down what's left of my drink. The bottom of the glass clanks against the wooden table as I stand up. My steps were a little wobbly as I make my way to the dance floor, the slight intoxication making me lose an ample percent of my perfect balance.

Unsteady steps to unite with the cluster of drunken people who danced their lungs away, I was entangled in a sudden knot as I slam into a stone-hard object that deliberately came out of nowhere. Immediately, I felt the cold liquid on my legs, the chilly liquor dripping down my skin.

"What the heck?"

The deep baritone voice awakens my senses, making me look up only to lock eyes with the most intensified brown orbs I have ever seen. He uttered silent curses at the sight of his white button-up shirt drenched with the stain of the cold drink. His eyebrows furrowed, meeting in the middle of his forehead.

"Watch where you're going!"

The icy blades on his eyes that slashed against mine made me want to step back. But the intoxication that intensified the stubborn personality I always had made me stand my ground.

"Maybe you should say that to yourself."

I eyed him, raising my eyebrows as stared him down. A scoff leaves his lips, a menacing grin arising as he takes a dangerous step forward.

"You owe me a drink."

His deep stares sent shivers down my spine, but I refuse to be shaken.

"I don't owe you anything. You owe me a new pair of Louboutins."

I eyed the liquor stained designer shoes. He scoffs. I can see the frustration that was building inside of him with the way he flicked his tongue against the side of his mouth.

I was about to say something else when I was suddenly being jostled towards him by a herd of people, sending me scrambling to my feet. Luckily, well in a series of misfortune, he was able to catch me before I pummeled to the ground.

I felt the strength of his large masculine arms as it snaked around my small body, earning a grunt from him as he felt the pressure of my weight against him. With another wave of pushing and shoving that came our way, I was getting pressed against him tighter and tighter.

"What the. . ." When I feel the slight graze of his hand against my chest, it sent my mind on a savage rampage. Accidentally, maybe. But with the effect of the alcohol that clouded my judgement, I was easy to accuse him.

I push him hard, surprise, and annoyance evident on his face.

I eyed him so menacingly, that if my stares were made of daggers he would have been dead. I glanced at my slightly exposed cleavage before I looked back at him. Figuring out what I was implying, he gave me a defensive look, raising his hands.