Tinder Hero

Chapter 3

Meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favourite - Unknown.

"I'm Hero."

I mirror his pose as the vodka attempts to burn my throat in the same way the lasers attempt to burn my skin, but I can't feel it.

I can't taste it.

I can't even smell it.

All I can smell is the faint scent of his woody aftershave travelling from his now-exposed neck towards me, and suddenly I am lying on a bed of clouds, and all I can see is him.

His slicked-back hair, piercing green eyes and the faint sign of a mark tattooed in black at the back of his neck, similar to that of a scratch or a birth mark.

"Honey?" My heart beats like a drum as my name rolls off his tongue like whisky gliding down my throat. "Is that your real name?" He asks as he places his half-empty cocktail back on the bar and takes another look at the selection of drinks in front of him; pulling me down from the clouds and back to earth using nothing but the sound of his voice and the sharpness of his jaw as it clenches under the light.

"Is Hero your real name?" I raise my eyebrow as I place my empty glass on the counter without taking my eyes off his side profile.

"Touché." He smirks, exposing a perfectly-placed dimple on either side of his face as he shoots me a second-long glance before refocusing on the bottles in front of us. "Aren't you supposed to be sweet, Honey?"

"I am sweet." I shrug as confetti begins to scatter around us whilst I turn towards the bar at the same time he turns his stool slightly towards me.

He licks his pale pink lips as he looks down at his unfinished cocktail before responding.

"You're not being very sweet to me."

"Okay, fine." I roll my eyes and notice him smirk again beside me. "I'm only sweet to the people I like."

"Oh, so you don't like me? You firing shots like that, yeah?"

His shapely brows raise towards his hairline as he leans back; eyes wide and mouth stuck open as though he has never met anyone that doesn't like him before.

"I don't know you!" I exclaim in defence. In an attempt to quieten the sound of my giggles, my eyes meet his, and there are one-hundred-and-seventy-one-thousand, four-hundred-and-seventy-six words in the English language but not a single one of them could describe the speckles of light brown scattered around his pupils as they glisten under the LED lights above us, and yet, I can't take my eyes off the green.

Growing up in London, my mum always warned me about drugs being sold on the streets, but never about the ones with deep green eyes and a heartbeat.

"Fair enough, okay. We can change that."

He licks his lips once more as he awaits my response.

I keep him waiting, and he sucks his cheeks in as he fights against the urge to pester me; his soft skin now showcasing the curve of his cheekbones which match the tightness of his jaw.

"Do you want to dance?" He asks as he comes to the realisation that I won't be satisfying him with a response to his previous statement.

He emphasises the word 'dance' with his thick cockney tongue.

"Sure." I grin, and he turns back to gesture towards the barman.

"We'll have another sex on the beach and pornstar martini, boss man." He orders.

"And shots!" I chime in as I pull the handle of my handbag over my shoulder; my new-found confidence suddenly emerging like the brightness of a new day.