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. “You’re just buttering me up to get that shot, aren’t you?” “Is it working?” He peered at me coyly. “You better believe it.” I dug my card out of my clutch. “I’ll grab the first round.” “You sit. I’ll get the drinks.” He grabbed my card, then disappeared into the crowd. A steady thrum of people moved to and from the bar in this huge place, providing ample people-watching entertainment. The selection of available men was more than adequate for my needs. Some were a bit douchey, but I wasn’t looking for a relationship. They didn’t have to be perfect to scratch my itch.Trent returned in a matter of minutes with two shots in one hand and two mixed drinks in the other. He placed them on the table, then handed back my card. “You are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I asked with a laugh. “If these fruity little drinks scare you, we’re going to have to work on your tolerance level.” “Whatever. Let’s just drink. I need some liquid courage.” “That’s what I like to hear.” He picked up his shot and clinked glasses with me. I’d never been much of a drinker, so the liquid burned all the way down. I shook my head and squealed. Trent threw his back and laughed deep from his belly. “You are a lightweight. That tequila sunrise wasn’t half as bad as it could have been.” “Tequila! Jesus, Trent. I’m going to be dancing on the table before the night even gets going.” His eyebrows danced on his forehead. “That’s the idea.” Shaking my head, I took a sip from my cocktail in an attempt to ease the burn in my throat, only to find the pink drink was just as potent as the shot. I did a full-body shiver, sending Trent into yet another fit of hysteria. Once we finished our drinks, we joined the crowd on the dance floor for a couple of songs before a few of his friends joined us. They insisted on another round of drinks. I tried to nurse the drink as best as I could but had so much fun listening to their banter that I was sucking air through the straw before I knew it. The heavenly buzz taking over my body magnified the delicious heat that had been simmering in my belly for days. I scanned the crowd for someone to take home, taking in each specimen with a critical eye. Too tall. Too hairy. Too much … just, too much. Each man I assessed failed my evaluation, one flaw at a time. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t picking out the father of my children. The image of Filip floated unbidden into my head. My n*****s tingled, and my breath caught at just the thought of him. “You okay, Cam?” asked Trent. “That rat bastard hijacked my hormones!” I shouted. My new friends burst into laughter, and I followed right behind them. “No, listen. This is serious.” More laughter. I almost tinkled in my dress. “Okay, okay. Who is this rat bastard, and how did he h****k your hormones?” Trent asked, bringing our group back to its senses. The room dipped and swirled, but it felt in sync with the energy pulsing all around me. I brushed it off and tried to explain. “Flip. He gave me the o****m of my life, and now my girl parts only want him.” “Flip?” “Fil-ip,” I mouthed exaggeratedly. “He had no right! Now I can’t have him or anyone else. It’s not fair at all.” “I think you should tell him exactly how you feel.” One of Trent’s friends pointed his drink at me with raised brows. He wasn’t wrong. Filip should know exactly how much he’d pissed me off. Someone should hold him accountable for his cruel games. “You’re right.” I yanked open my purse, but a hand clamped down over mine before I could remove my phone. “You sure you want to do that, Camilla?” Trent peered at me warily. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can’t possibly make matters worse. Why shouldn’t I call him out for being an ass?” Trent lifted his hands with a thin-lipped grimace. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Whatever. He didn’t know Filip like I did. Me: This is some bullshit. You don’t own me. Filip: Excuse me? Me: You heard me. I decide who I have s*x with. My p***y. I decide. That’d teach him. I hit send and sat taller in my chair, smiling when the response dots bubbled to life. Filip: Not when you’re drunk, you don’t. Drunk? I glanced back over my text and tried to see if I’d given myself away over my wording. I was tipsy, but I could still tell autocorrect had ensured my messages made sense. Filip: Three drinks in an hour. That’s too much for you, Camilla. A burst of adrenaline battled with the alcohol in my veins, giving me a moment of startling sobriety. Filip was here, watching me. My eyes widened as I swept the room in search of him. In cinematic fashion, the music faded into the background, and the swarms of people became an amorphous blur. Only one man stood out in perfect clarity. “He’s here,” I breathed. “What?” Trent asked, peering around. “Who’s here? Filip?” I nodded, not taking my eyes from the fiendish demigod now closing the distance between us. “Sweet mother-of-pearl, he’s gorgeous.” His voice dropped an octave. Trent didn’t know the half of it. Filip flashed a cavalier smile at my new friends, joining us as though a natural member of our little party. “Hey, guys. It seems Camilla’s had a little too much to drink. I hate to break things up, but I better get her home.” He cast his god spell over the table, ensnaring all four men in a fog of voodoo lust. All four nodded, not one asking my opinion. “Oh, no. I don’t think so.” I pressed my finger into Filip’s rock-hard chest, slipping from my chair onto unsteady feet. Filip lowered his lips to my ear. “You fight me on this, and I’ll tan your ass.”
- Writer
