1 - LARA #2
What are they talking about? I danced like five songs with them!
“Yeah, they’re hot and they’re into us...” Barbs sways, smiling, still tugging at me. “Let’s get some payback, my girl, come on. It won’t hurt to have a little fun to forget. Better than wallowing in sadness. Come on...”
“Lara, I don’t know about you, but we’d rather have some nice, eager cock tonight than some stinky dick from the past. The PAST,” she practically deafens me. “Come on, I promise you won’t regret it, girl.”
“So, ladies, you coming?” I hear a deep voice, slightly slurred from alcohol.
The two pretty ones talk at the same time, joking around, smiling at him way more than necessary.
I turn around and see a really tall guy with light caramel-brown skin, short curly hair so black it almost looks blue—maybe it's the lighting—bright brown eyes locked right on me.
He grins shamelessly, wearing a colorful shirt, a white sash with Groom written in blue, and a matching headband: Groom To Be.
Lord have mercy, it's him—the groom himself.
Seriously? They want to forget their scumbag exes by helping another guy cheat on his fiancée?
Look, bachelor parties don't give you that kind of free pass. Better stop fooling yourselves, ladies.
I want to wag my finger and give him a firm no, but instead I just swallow hard, fascinated by the specimen in front of me. Lucky bride? Not so much, since he's here hitting on everyone.
“Hi, I'm Olavo. You coming too?”
Sweet mother of mercy. That voice could make the desert bloom. Damn, I'm completely losing it. He's engaged—my mind screams.
“Ah...” I open my mouth, but only air comes out—embarrassingly. “I-I-I—” I stammer, wanting to disappear. How can anyone let an opportunity like this slip by?! It takes serious self-control. Which, honestly, we don't have.
Priscila nudges me with her elbow, and I shut up completely. She asks for a moment and he heads back to his group of friends, who are already pretty far gone from all the drinking. Who knows what else is going on at their little party.
“Gorgeous, right?” My friend asks rhetorically, pulling Bárbara's hand toward us, then announces, “Olavo is mine, and my name is Titi.”
“What?” I frown, eyes widening at her. I ignore the nickname—whatever floats her boat. “He's the groom, Pri!”
“Oh, hotties, I'm going to have fun and Xande can go to hell!”
“I repeat, red alert everyone, he's the groom, Priscila!!!”
Priscila and Alexandre, her eternal ex, go back and forth on this crazy seesaw. I don't know how they don't get nauseous, because I do. But tonight, she has a different look about her—more defiant and... unhinged. Xande is screwed.
Barbs, on the other hand, is really hurting—genuinely, like me.
She thought she'd found the right guy. You know?
! The One! Boy, was she wrong. I still don't know what happened, but it must have been bad, like what happened to me, because she's really forcing herself to smile.
And that's saying something for a girl whose smile usually comes so easily.
Unfortunately, I'm in no position to console her, and she's in no position to console me. That's why going off the rails tonight seems so tempting. I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts in order. I look at Bárbara.
“I don't know what happened with your boyfriends—that one of you wants to hook up with someone's fiancé and the other doesn't even care—but she's really not doing well, is she?”
“No, Larinha, she's not, and you know what? Neither am I. So I'm up for a night where I'm not me anymore. I'm...” she puts her index finger on her chin theatrically, “Tatá. If you're Titi, I'm Tatá.” She laughs freely.
“Like the mouse from Cinderella?” Pri cackles wildly, grabbing the hem of her miniskirt and lifting it slowly as she glares at me.
“You've already shaken off your ashes at home, haven't you, kitty?” She approaches me, all sultry.
“It's time to bring out those little claws and pounce, because tonight is yours—listen to your wise little mice.”
I furrow my brows, really thinking about this craziness. We've partied like this before, at night, even during the day, but something tells me that...
“We don't even know them...”
“Oh, Lara,” Priscila—or Titi—rolls her eyes, stepping back from me a bit, “we're just going to have fun. Nobody has to go all the way... we know you only put out on the tenth date. In the meantime... live a little, woman!”
“It's not exactly like that...” I try in vain to defend myself against her exaggeration.
“Yes, it is.” Her face hardens as she turns to Bárbara. “You coming?” She tugs at the slit on Barbs's thigh, nearly exposing everything underneath.
Before they get more irritated and I end up ruining everyone's night, I tell them I'll just hang around here for a bit, then I'll join them.
What harm would it do to have a little fun on the night I become single again in the worst possible way?
! Maybe something good will come of this mess.
No religious comparisons here—I'm in the middle of flames, that's for sure. Burning.
Glasses pile up on the counter and the waitress asks if she can clear them. I nod, envying that smile plastered on her face. I wonder if she smiles because she has to or if she's actually happy. I want to be happy. I will be happy. I am happy.
My friends' voices are unmistakable, even mixed in with the pounding beat of the music and all the people trying to make themselves heard.
I watch as they head to the dance floor, followed by men decked out in typical party gear.
Colorful bow ties, neon glasses, feathers—one of them even has a pair of fake breasts hanging around his neck. Hilarious! I almost spit out my drink.
They grind against the women, who return the favor.
Bárbara is the most modest of the bunch, let's say—though that thigh-high slit tells a different story.
Others join the rowdy group looking for a good time.
Priscila responds to something Olavo whispers, and he taps the shoulder of a blond guy standing farther back—just as handsome—pointing at me.
I look away, pretending it has nothing to do with me. I still have some sense left. I spin around on the stool, grab my glass, and slurp through the straw, making that annoying noise.
“I don't think anything else is coming out of there.”
The voice makes me dizzy—so sensual, husky, and deep.
You know that little chill in the pit of your stomach, those famous literary butterflies?
Well, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what's fluttering around in my gut right now.
I turn slowly. I look up expecting to find the blond guy.
Fast mover, huh?! What did he do? Fly over here? Or did I completely lose track of time?
What I find is a dark-skinned Black man with reddish undertones who could stop traffic and make the purest virgin drool. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, help me!
I almost slip. A little gasp escapes me as I grab onto the counter.
The colorful bow tie hangs undone at his open collar, and the feathers on it leave no doubt he's part of the bachelor party.
He takes off his neon glasses and pushes them up onto his head.
I don't know if it's the lighting again, but his eyes seem to be violet...
Without realizing it, I'm pulled by some greater force, my fingers twitching, wanting to touch his face to make sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing.
“Yes, they really are this color,” he says with a crooked smile. Now we can all just explode from lust.
“Ah...”
“Mom and Dad did a great job.”
“I'll say!” He pulls back a little when my fingertips lightly touch his cheek. “Sorry, you must have heard that a million times.” I pull my hand back.
“Not really...” If he flashes one more of those smiles, I might have a spontaneous orgasm. “You're with the girls, right?” His black dress shirt, with the top buttons undone, hugs his muscles as he crosses his arms. “Want to dance?”
“I... it's just that...”
His body language says otherwise, and I can't figure out what this Greek god actually wants.
“Didn't you come here for that?” He extends his hand to me.
Did I say I was made of iron? No, right?
! Damn, I got dumped! Actually, technically, no, because he wouldn't have even let me go if I hadn't caught him with that wretch.
And I had the final word. I've already made that perfectly clear.
The bastard was cheating on me left and right—he doesn't deserve a single tear from me!
Why did I even insist on a relationship doomed to end exactly like this?
It was obvious, but also convenient. Crap!
My mind is spinning in circles, going round and round.
Round and round? My mind laughs—is that even a thing?
Does your mind talk to you like this? Mine's a total chatterbox.
Pri is right—no jerk deserves my suffering.
I'm better than that, you know?! Let him stay behind with his little flings, because I'm going to have a blast with this monument standing in front of me.
Girls, I'm reinventing myself in style. Screw all the jerks out there!
Wait, screw that. Come here, hottie! I'm totally gone.
Whoa, tipsy! Drunk... I take a deep breath. Focus, Lara, this is it, girl!
Determined, I get up as best I can and pull him onto the dance floor. I hear a “that's my girl” shouted over the music and see Pri cheering, hands pointing in my direction. I wink at her, point back, and shake my hips, pulling a face at her.