This episode contains content that is sexual in nature and may not be appropriate for minors. If you’re under 18, please skip this one.
You know those scenes from the movies where the girl lets her friends drag her to some party she didn’t want to go to with all these people she didn’t know doing things she really didn’t want to do? So once they get there she spends nearly the entire night quietly occupying a corner in the furthest part of the room, away from the rest of the party-goers?
Then once her friends realize she’s not participating in this girls night out event, they provide a little encouragement in the form of drinks, shots to be exact, and once she gets a little bit of alcohol in her, being the lightweight that she is, she seems to transform into this whole other version of herself? Almost like all fear-based emotions were tossed away and not only does she start to enjoy herself, she’s also reminded of the almost three-month-long drought she’s been stuck in since her relationship ended and finds herself on the verge of making questionable decisions? Well, that’s me in this bar tonight.
I took the last sip of my drink as I swayed back and forth in my seat to the music that streamed from the speakers above me. The song that was playing, I’d heard it at least a thousand times before but tonight felt like the melody was literally flowing through me and the lyrics, each and every one of them, flowed right into my ears and off of my tongue like I was gunning for first place in some imaginary karaoke competition.
Cassandra tapped my arm and said something, I assumed was about drinks, before grabbing our empty glasses and sashaying away from the table. Less than a minute later, Jesminder received a call, I think from her mom and sought out someplace quiet to answer it, leaving me… alone.
If this had been any other night, being left here by myself like this, would’ve had me booking an Uber for a trip back home but tonight — I’m sitting at the intersection of tipsy and drunk with the windows sealed tight and the heat on high — and fortunately for my not-so-secret admirer across the room, the brakes and temperature controls on this metaphorical car seem to be out of commission and with my friends temporarily away and my table void of any form of entertainment, he finally got the attention I had been trying all night not to give him.
Over by the bar, he stood by himself, cradling a glass, quietly observing my table. The path between us was cluttered with people — drinking, talking, dancing — but still, our eyes managed to connect, even through all of that chaos.
He reminded me of someone, not in looks but in the way he carried himself. The big chain, the fancy shoes, the expensive watch — all things indicative of someone who likes to put on a show, much like he was doing now.
He took a sip of his drink and when he saw that I wasn’t backing down from his relentless stare, his lips that were once wrapped around the rim of his glass formed into a way-too-confident smile that I couldn’t help but laugh at.
I watched as he finished the remainder of his drink and slid his empty glass across the bar. Our eyes locked once more — our gazes so intense, I was pretty sure my thoughts were being translated through my pupils — because without him saying a word, I already knew exactly what he was thinking… and I had a feeling… he knew I was thinking it too…
He made his way through the crowd, not taking his eyes off me once, his expression, serious, one of a man that was on a mission that he intended to see all the way through. He arrived at my table and for the first time since our staring contest began, he allowed his eyes to stray away from my face. “That’s a beautiful smile,” he shamelessly surveyed every inch of my body, “for a beautiful woman.”
This line, I’d heard it plenty of times before but still, I accepted his compliment. “Thank you.”
He looked around, probably to see how long he had before the girls reappeared. “Mind if I sit?”
I should… because if he’s anything like I think he is, he came over here for more than just compliments and conversation and in my present state of half-drunken-horniness, I couldn’t guarantee he would leave here empty-handed…
“Sure…” I slid over, creating a little space between me and the seat closest to him.
But… I’m willing to take that chance…
He extended his hand as he sat down next to me. “Amir.”
“Camilla,” I extended mine in return.
He bypassed my attempt at accepting his handshake and instead lifted my hand to his lips where he planted a slow kiss on the back of it, sending tiny bolts of lust-flavored electricity all through my body — and once again reminding me why this is a bad idea.
“Camilla…” he caressed the spot where his kiss once lived, “I thought for sure you were gonna say, Angel.”
Another line I was familiar with…
“Why?” I took my hand back, eyes nearly rolling into the back of my head, “Because I look like I fell from heaven?”
He nodded with a devilish grin. “Something like that.”
“Does this usually work for you?” my better judgment jumped in and temporarily took control of the conversation.
“What?” he seemed surprised at the change in tone.
“All of this,” I proceeded to mock his Casanova act, “Beautiful smile for a beautiful woman. You must be a fallen Angel. yOuR bOdY mUsT’vE bEeN cRaFtEd bY tHe gOdS—”
“Hey,” he interrupted with a laugh, “the last one are your words, not mine.”
I sucked my teeth. “You were thinking it.”
“Yeah… I was,” he laughed again, “but you asked if it works. It does.”
I sent another eye roll his way. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” he lowered his voice a couple of notches like he was about to spit some top-secret knowledge from the Manual of Picking up Girls in Bars, “See, one of the many things I’ve learned about women is that most love the compliments, the attention, no matter how original the lines are or aren’t in this case.”
His answer… had me… speechless… and it wasn’t because it was clever or insightful but because my better judgment was trying hard to regain my attention. She begged me to end the conversation. Send him on his way. Be done with this game and enjoy the rest of the night with my friends but I was… curious… and besides, if Brandon was back home doing whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted, why couldn’t I?
“And the ones that don’t?”
He placed an arm around the back of my seat. “Appreciate the honesty.”
“Honesty about what?”
His eyes rose to mine and I was immediately taken prisoner by another one of his gazes whose sole purpose, I’m convinced, is to melt my panties.
“Intentions,” he smirked as if he had just read the details of my last thought, “My reasons for coming over here.”
“And what exactly are your intentions?” his panty-melting gaze drew me in even further, closing the space I had originally put between us, bringing us close — so close — I could all but taste what he was drinking and at this point, I really, really wanted to.
“To buy you a drink, get to know you, maybe invite you to dance,” he ran the tip of his finger slowly down my spine making my entire body shudder, “and whatever else you decide you want to do.”
I gripped onto the edge of my chair trying my best to keep up this hard-to-get act. “And if I’m not interested in any of that?”
“Then I’ll walk away and leave you to enjoy the rest of your night with your friends. All you have to do is say the word.”
We sat silently for a moment as he waited for me to give him the green light. With no objections on my part, he picked up where we left off. “So, can I buy you a—”
“DRINKS!” Cassandra appeared literally out of nowhere and slammed three shot glasses down on the table, “Courtesy of our new friend over there,” she winked at the bartender. “And who is this?” she asked with wide eyes and a mischievous smile as she slid into the seat next to me to get a closer look at him.
“Amir,” he introduced himself, “Camilla’s friend.”
“Camilla’s friend?” she gave me a nudge of approval.
Before I could confirm or deny the implication of us being anything other than strangers who just happen to be having a conversation, Jesminder made her return.
“So what are you doing in my seat Camilla’s friend?” she stood beside him with an expression that let him know his time to remove himself was limited.
“Oh— my bad,” he jumped to his feet, “We were just leaving,” he said with his hand out, “Camilla promised me a dance.”
Hearing that I agreed to give a man attention, especially the type that required touching, almost caused Cassandra’s jaw to hit the floor. “She did?!”
I didn’t — but he obviously knew I was going to so… I took his hand and met him around the table.
“We’ll be over here when y’all done,” Jesminder reclaimed her seat, “but Amir?”
“Yes ma’am?” he turned to face her.
She held up her phone and snapped a photo of him. “She better make it back here in one piece.”
He chuckled, I’m guessing at the hint of bodily harm that jumped out of her statement. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
In a dimly lit corner, between the bar and the restrooms, we carved out our own dance space near the other couples who had done the same. I took my place in front of him and with his arms around my waist, our bodies moved to the beat of the song that after tonight, would probably have a whole new meaning. His hands were in places deemed innocent enough but the way I trembled when his fingers grazed the exposed skin beneath the bottom of my shirt would have you thinking otherwise. He was good at that too, towing this very thin line that dangled between appropriate and not, like he was testing me to see how much he could get away with or how much closer he was to getting what he really wanted.
His lips rested against my ear as he let out a soft chuckle at my reaction to yet another one of his touches. “I like you, Camilla,” he brushed his lips across it before trailing down my neck leaving an assortment of tiny kisses along his traveled path. Our fingers interlaced as we traced the waistline of my pants and when my head tilted back and our mouths finally met, his breathing turned into something completely different and when a soft moan slipped from his lips, I realized that for the first time since he arrived at my table tonight, he was the one becoming undone.
I spun around and draped my arms around his neck, switching up our dance. “You don’t know me enough to like me,” I said as his arms slid around my waist, sealing any space that existed between us.
We backed into the wall behind me where he kissed me once, soft and slow. “I wanna get to know you,” he whispered then again, rough, fast — the way he really wanted to — like we weren’t in a room full of people.
Our lips met once more…
and as the song ended, fading into another, we both decided that…
we were done playing this game.