One #2
What I did not expect was to spend the next hour hearing all about his accolades in life, right down to his junior rugby league games as a ten-year-old.
Turns out, Ethan is in construction, and if you were to ask him, he is the best builder in all of Sydney; he’d probably even go as far as saying the whole of Australia.
Bloody hell, I never knew someone could be so fixated on themselves.
All throughout, I smile and uh-huh here and there.
Not once has he asked anything about me.
I excuse myself to the ladies’ room. Shutting the stall door, I pull out my phone, sending an SOS to Sarah.
Me: SOS. Send help now. I am about to die of boredom!!
Sarah: Don’t be dramatic. Open your mind and try to live a little. How boring can he be? Just stare at his pretty face! That should make up for the boredom.
Me: I have sat here for the last hour, listening to him tell me everything great about himself. And let me tell you, the list is small, but he sure drags it out.
Sarah: Just imagine him naked while he is talking. Always works for me!
Realising I’m on my own and have probably spent way longer in the bathroom than what’s considered a normal pee break, I shove my phone back in my clutch, wash my hands, and reapply my lipstick before walking back out.
As I’m getting back to the table, the waiter arrives with the bill. Ethan looks up at me expectantly. “Split it?” I offer reluctantly, considering he ordered the $40 steak, and I only ordered a $15 salad.
“I knew you would be one of those equal rights kinds of gals. Sure, I’ll be happy to split the bill with you.”
“Of course you will,” I mumble under my breath.
“So, how about we slip next door for a quick drink?” he queries with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
I pick up my glass of water, downing the contents as all of my self-preservation senses are screaming at me to say no, to make up some excuse and get out of there.
I have to work in the morning so I can use that without telling a lie.
Then I think back to my text with Sarah.
Maybe I am being too judgmental and should give him another thirty minutes of my time.
“Okay, but just one. I have to work in the morning.” I force a smile as I stand.
“Oh, great.” He stands and waits for me to walk ahead of him. That is his response: oh great. Not oh what do you do? No wow, you work on a Saturday. What is it you said you did again? Just oh great. I was seriously rethinking the reasons I said yes to a drink now.
Ethan leads me out of the restaurant with his hand resting on my lower back, and it sends shivers up my spine. Not the good kind that make you weak in the knees. No, these are the creepy shivers that make you want to run and hide under the covers. Heading out
onto the street, I step to the side, attempting unsuccessfully to step out of his reach.
He leads me up to the carpeted walkway of the club.
Being only nine o’clock, there isn’t much of a line-up to get in.
However, while waiting, I attempt and fail to sidestep Ethan’s reach a few more times.
Flashing my ID to the bouncer, I get let through the doors a moment before Ethan, which not only provides me with a moment to shake the heebie-jeebies feeling out of me, but also to stop and admire the beauty before me.
The club, if you can call it that, is opulence on another level.
From where I stand, stunned in the doorway, I look up to see three different levels.
People are already filling out the balconies that wrap around three walls of the building and overlook the huge main dance floor in the centre of the bottom floor.
Even in the dimmed lighting, I can see the rich colours of the deep red curtains hanging along the walls.
There are sectioned-off areas on the bottom floor with various shapes of black lounges and wingback chairs surrounding glass-topped tables.
The tables have gold frames that look like they’re sculpted out of two bodies moulded together.
As I look around further, I can see that that is exactly what the tables are: some table frames are of a man and a woman, some of two men and others of two women.
With each sculpture, the bodies look to be in various forms of intimate embraces, almost as though they are merging as one.
As I’m standing here admiring the beauty that surrounds me, I feel a hand skim down my lower back to grab my arse.
Spinning around with a raised hand about to slap the culprit, I stop midway when I realise it’s Ethan.
On a scale of 1-10, how much would slapping the guy you’re on a date with ruin the actual date?
As I stand here debating the pros and cons of slapping him, Ethan takes my silence as a win and grabs my hand, tugging me towards the bar.
I untangle my hand from his, slightly wiping my hand along the fabric of my dress—anything to get the feeling of him off me.
We find two seats at the bar. I order a vodka and lime soda and look around more, while I wait for my drink and contemplate how I will get out of here after this drink, alone.
There is so much beauty to take in. My eyes scan up and down the room, and that’s when I see him.
I lock eyes with possibly the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
His eyes pin me in place. I wish he were closer so I could see the colour.
Leaning against the end of the bar, he lifts his glass to his lips—lips that look full and soft.
I watch as he sips his drink, his throat as he swallows…
Goddamn, even his throat is sexy. His beauty far outshines the opulence of this club.
Inky hair that looks like it has a slight curl to it on top, tanned skin, a chiselled jaw with a little more than a five o’clock shadow.
He’s wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Mmm, arm porn anyone? The top few buttons of his shirt are left undone, showing off just enough of a smooth chest. Paired with dark blue dress pants, he looks like he has just come from the cover shoot for GQ.
As I’m contemplating this, a shadow falls across his face and his features become hard, almost like he’s angry all of a sudden, like he wants to rip someone’s head off.
I don’t have time to dwell on his sudden change as a hand creeps up my leg.
I turn to find Ethan with one hand on my leg and the other holding up my drink.
Removing his hand from my leg, I smile as I go to take my drink from him, and my head spins.
I lose my balance and fall into him. What the heck?
I haven’t even had the damn drink yet. I stumble as I try to find my way back onto my seat.
His arms go around me like a vice and I push him back with both hands against his chest. Suddenly, he goes flying.
Man, I’m stronger than I thought I was. I barely catch myself on the bar before I look up and into a pair of green eyes, emerald green eyes.
Eyes that belong to the GQ model and he looks mad.
I try to focus on his eyes, but the world is spinning. Reaching up, I touch his face, thinking, “GQ, you are so pretty.” Then I hear it, a rumble? A laugh?
A deep, husky voice mumbles, “Thanks,” before his arms reach out and grab my waist. Thanks? Why is he thanking me? Why is the world spinning so fast? I think I just need to close my eyes for a bit. I close my eyes and then feel my body falling.