Five
FIVE
LEORA
W hen I think about the words "fun" and "cultural," my mind conjures up images of museums and trying new cuisines. Maybe even exploring this beautiful city.
Standing in line, outside a crowded nightclub on the French Riviera, in a black halterneck dress so tight it emphasizes every curve of my body, particularly around my rounder hips, is certainly not what I had in mind.
"Wow, that’s a man," Adeline murmurs, and I turn around to see the back of a tall, broad shouldered man walk by us. "Stop pulling on your dress, Leora," Adeline snaps, her tone leaving no room for argument and I immediately release the hem.
"When we get in, you're going to talk to one of these hot men. Understood?"
Before I have time to answer her, Sophie chimes in, "You'll go up to him with your hot ass and flirt. Okay?"
I'm not exactly sure what she's talking about. I don’t go up to guys, and I certainly don’t have a "hot ass."
My heart starts racing, and I shake my head frantically. "No, no, I can't do that. You know I can't flirt to save my life." The last time I tried doing the cute, doe-eyed, blinking thing, John asked if I had something in my eye. I said yes and ran away. And that was five years ago! If I couldn’t flirt then, there’s no way in hell I would be able to now. I’m not even sure I remember what to do. Touch their arm? Smile? Blink? Can you even blink in a sexy way?
"Honey, that's your mission for tonight," Adeline says with a smirk on her face. I groan inwardly. The mission is something we've been doing for a long time. It's a way to push each other to do something outside of our comfort zone, or a way to be assholes. You're allowed to say no to one challenge, but I know that if I deny this one, a worse one will follow.
"I hate you guys," I mutter, eyeing them both before winking. "Just wait for your missions."
"Nope," Adeline says, making a popping sound. "You know the rules. If I hand out the first challenge, you can’t give one back. You’ll choose one for Sophie and she’ll choose one for me. Simple."
That cocky little?—
"List?" The huge bouncer demands, staring us down. Damn, they make the bouncers even bigger in Europe. His eyes narrow, and he wrinkles his nose as he glares at us. Apparently, they're more rude here too.
"Yes, it's under ‘Anderson’," Sophie replies, giving me a "what did you expect" look. Of course, Sophie got us on the list. The bouncer nods and checks the list, then unclasps the red rope blocking our way and signals us to walk in. My heart races as I follow my friends into the club, wondering what kind of trouble they’ll get me into tonight.
Upon entering the club, my senses are immediately overwhelmed by the beating bass of the music, the colorful lights flashing around the room, and the scent of perfume and alcohol filling the air. The dance floor is packed with people moving, their bodies swaying in unison to the rhythm of the music.
The bar is lined with people shouting their drink orders over the music. There are girls dressed in glittery tight dresses and high heels, dancing on tables with their hands raised over their heads, letting the music take over. I haven't been to a club in a while, but something within me lets go. I’m ready to let loose and have some fun.
I follow my girls through the crowd, feeling the heat of the bodies around me as we squeeze our way toward the bar.
"Nine tequila shots and three drinks of your own choice, handsome, but make them a bit sour," Adeline purrs to the bartender, leaning over the bar. Her curves are perfectly accentuated in her red bodycon dress, and I notice how the bartender's eyes linger a little too long on her chest before he quickly prepares the drinks, his eyes rarely leaving Adeline's cleavage.
"It’s on the house."
"Thank you, handsome." She smirks and grabs the shots, handing them to me and Sophie with two lemon slices and of course, salt.
"Here's to unforgettable nights, the bonds of sisterhood, and new beginnings!" Adeline exclaims, looking at me and raising her shot glass. The rest of us follow suit, clinking our glasses together. I slowly lick the salt off the back of my hand before downing the tequila shot. I wince at the sharp burn and quickly suck on the lemon wedge to ease the taste.
Immediately upon finishing our first shot, Sophie hands out the second round of shots before saying, "Here's to chasing our dreams, conquering our fears, and to the endless possibilities that lie ahead." We smile and clink our glasses with hers. This time, the tequila doesn't burn as much.
I take the last round of shots and hand them to the girls, saying, "Here's to the laughter we share, the moments that take our breath away, and the adventures waiting around every corner."
Adeline and Sophie grin and shout, "Cheers to that," before we down the shots together.
The sour drinks the bartender concocted are strong and a tad bitter, but they help soothe my nerves as I take in the scene around me.
"Let’s dance!" Adeline yells louder than she needs to.
"You go. I’ll be there in a minute," I answer her. So she grabs Sophie's hand and walks to the middle of the dance floor as I take a moment to people watch, savoring my drink before joining them on the dance floor.
And that's when I spot him .
The Greek God from the hotel. Adonis.
The man I embarrassed myself in front of.
He’s standing on the other side of the club with a drink in his hand. His dark hair is ruffled, his eyes intense as he surveys the room. My hands go clammy, and I quickly turn to the bartender, my voice slightly shaky as I speak, "One more tequila shot . . . No, make it two, please." I hope he won't see me tonight, and if he does, I pray he’s forgotten about my humiliating staring display from the day before.
The alcohol settles, and I feel the buzz in my veins lead me toward the girls. The pulsating beat of the music vibrates through my body as I sway on the crowded dance floor with Adeline and Sophie. It's easy to let loose, and as the tempo of the music increases, so do our movements. Adeline is swaying her hips in front of me while Sophie stands behind, her hand gently tracing my body. The thumping beat of the music pulses through us, and the warm, sultry air envelops our group. Sophie twirls, her pink skirt flaring up with each spin, the vibrant colors of the fabric catching the dim, hazy lights. We laugh, our bodies moving in sync with the rhythm, lost in the music and the electric atmosphere. The room feels like it's on fire, and I can sense the eyes of others on us, their gazes lingering with admiration and desire. It’s intoxicating and hot, leaving me feeling alive and liberated, as if the world revolves around us for these electrifying minutes.
As the music hits its peak, Adeline leans in close, whispering something in my ear, but the noise drowns out her words. I just shake my head and laugh, but she leans in even closer and speaks louder, "I choose him ." Her finger is pointing in the direction of the bar.
My whole body tingles. I have a feeling I know exactly which "him" she's referring to, and when I turn my gaze and spot him, I curse.
I shake my head. "No," I say firmly. "I can't do it. Not him."
But she's relentless, her finger still pointing to the bar where he's standing. "I choose him," she repeats, her voice teasing and full of mischief. "Don't be a coward , Leora."
I can feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and frustration. She knows I can't back down from a challenge, and that word is making me want to prove them wrong.
"Do you want to decline this easy, flirting mission and try another one?" Her wicked grin grows wider. "It will probably be worse."
Is it frowned upon to tackle your friend in a busy club? What’s the worst that could happen—we'll be thrown out? I have no issue with that.
"Or do you want to take a chance and see what happens?"
I weigh my options, knowing that whatever I choose it won't be easy. But I can't let her win. "Fine," I say, finally. "I'll do it, you asshole."
I take a deep breath and start making my way towards the bar, trying to look confident and in control, even though I may have had one too many tequilas.
This is going to be a long, embarrassing night.
He’s leaning against the bar, wearing a pair of chinos and a button-down shirt with a few buttons undone and rolled-up sleeves, which accentuate his broad shoulders and toned arms. The tattoos that had previously been hidden underneath his long sleeves are on display. I can’t exactly see what kind of art it is in the dim light, but just the idea of them makes him even hotter. A wave of heat floods through me, and I suddenly feel even more self-conscious in my own skin. He looks like he belongs here, like he knows he’s attractive but doesn’t feel the need to show it off.
Every inch of my body is hyper-aware of his presence as I draw closer to him, and I have to take another deep breath to steady myself.
When I reach him, I raise my hand and greet him with a loud, "Hi."
His expression quickly shifts to confusion, and I can’t help but feel like this encounter is about to become awkward. He leans down and murmurs a hesitant, "Hi," into my ear so I can hear him better over the blaring music. The warmth of his breath against my ear sends an electric thrill through my body.
"Do I know you?" he asks, catching me off guard. When he pulls away, I find myself longing for more.
More words, more physical closeness, more of him .
"No, you don't know me." I lean toward him. "Do you come here often?"
Wow, smooth Leora. I should just say goodbye, go back to the girls and strangle them . . . or myself.
He chuckles. "Sometimes. I’m guessing this is your first time?"
I’m slightly shocked at the disappointment of him not recognizing me from yesterday, but on the other hand, I’m relieved. This is my chance to start over with him.
"Leora," I say, stretching my hand out in an attempt to introduce myself.
"Lucas." His hand envelops mine. My God, his hand is big and surprisingly soft. A jolt of electricity shoots through me as our eyes meet.
I can't help but notice one of the tattoos peeking out from under his rolled-up sleeve. It's an intricate design of a pair of wings in black ink. Emboldened by the connection I smile. "Oh, that's a beautiful tattoo."
His features soften, something akin to sorrow, his face taking on a distant expression,as if recalling a memory. "Thank you. It’s the first tattoo I ever got."
Neither of us say anything as we continue to eye each other and I find myself lost in the depths of his eyes.
"So, Lucas," I say with a warm smile, trying to shift the conversation, not wanting to pry, "Can I buy you a drink?"
He looks down at the glass in his hand, then back up at me. "Thanks, but I already have one."
Heat creeps up my neck and I can feel it reach my neck.
As if sensing my embarrassment, he leans into me again. "How about I get you a drink?"
I smile and nod, still feeling embarrassed but thankful.
He buys me an Amaretto Sour, which is delicious. I sip on it for a few seconds before I look up to find him looking at me closely, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. "What brings you here tonight, Leora?" he asks, with genuine interest.
"Just out for some fun with my friends," I reply, pointing toward Adeline and Sophie. His gaze follows where I’m pointing, and as soon as he spots them, a noticeable change shifts in his appearance.
When he looks back at me, the warmth in his eyes has faded, and his jaw is clenched.
"Do you want anything else?" He leans slightly forward, his brow furrowing as he locks eyes with me, and I blink, completely stupefied by his question. I notice a subtle twitch near his eye, and the tension in his jaw as he speaks, making me wonder if I said something wrong.
"I’m sorry?"
"You got your drink. You can go back to your friends now."
"I don’t understand."
"Well, sweetheart, let me put it simply for you: we talked, I bought you a drink, and that’s the end of this transaction."
My hand starts to shake, spilling some of my drink as I'm taken aback, wondering again, if I said something wrong. But as I try to collect myself, I realize it doesn't matter—his condescending attitude is not acceptable. Just before he turns around, something in me snaps and I think of something better to do with the drink.
"You can have your drink back, asshole!" I say, tossing the contents of my drink at him.
It splashes his face, causing him to stumble back a step or two, but I don’t stay to gauge his reaction. My body is on fire as I storm over to Adeline and Sophie, who have been standing on the sidelines watching the whole thing go down. I grab their arms and drag them toward the bathroom with a scowl on my face.
"Are you happy now? I completed your ridiculous mission," I snap, my voice harsher than I intended. They exchange a guilty look, clearly sensing my frustration.
"Oh my gosh, you didn’t just throw a drink in his face!" Sophie says, her hand now covering her mouth in shock.
"That. Was. AMAZING!" Adeline shrieks with a grin, clearly pleased with the outcome. I roll my eyes at her, my irritation simmering beneath the surface.
"I didn't do it for your entertainment," I retort, still fuming.
Adeline's grin fades, and she places a hand on my shoulder. "I’m sorry," she says softly. "What happened?"
I tell them, word for word, how my interaction with the Greek God went and when I finish speaking, the look on both of their faces is enough to know they are out for blood.
"I can’t believe he said that!" Sophie seethes, her eyes flashing with anger. Adeline doesn’t say a word, which scares me more. She starts to back up toward the door, and I know exactly where she’s heading. My hand grabs hers just in time.
"Adeline, you’re not going up to him."
"But I just?—"
"No. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough. I don’t need my friends fighting any of my battles. Let’s look at it from another perspective. I flirted a little bit and completed the mission. That's a win in my book." I give them a fake smile.
"Look at you. This whole mission was for you to break through your walls. Fuck him. I'm just proud you did it," Adeline says, surprising me.
Maybe the whole thing wasn’t a bust after all. I’ve always wanted to throw a drink in someone's face like they do in movies, and now I have.
Adeline squeezes my arm. "You don't need some guy's approval to feel good about yourself," she says. "You're stunning just the way you are. But if you're interested, we can always try again." She winks at me playfully.
I shake my head, feeling grateful for my friends. "Once is definitely enough," I say with a laugh. "But dancing, on the other hand, sounds like a great idea. Let's go!"
We make our way to the dance floor, and I spot him, again, sitting at a table.
Fuck me.
This time, however, his friend is with him. Scratch that; she's practically on top of him. She looks like a supermodel in a very short silver dress, her small figure accentuated by its shimmer, and her sun kissed skin contrasting with the metallic sheen of the outfit. Her blonde hair is up in a tight long ponytail and from what I can see, her lips are painted red. She's practically straddling him with her arms wrapped around his neck while her lips hover over his. I hope she squeezes him tight enough that he can’t breathe for a few seconds.