Once they were inside, Trevor put his hand on the small of Zadie’s back as he guided her through the hipster crowd. He was so smooth, so full of confidence. He had loads more than Zadie had. He’d just sat in a limo full of grown women and managed to shut down Helen, Snotty, Skinny, and Eloise with no effort at all. Granted, they were hammered, but still.
Deep’s hook was that they had scantily clad women dancing inside three Plexiglas cubes in the wall. There was also a small dance floor for the patrons, surrounded by walls of two-way mirrors. But Helen was not content to dance with the masses. She immediately became fixated on the idea of entering a cube. The women who were currently manning the cubes looked bored out of their minds, but Helen thought it looked like great fun.
While she went off to find the secret cube entrance, the rest of the party went to the bar. Trevor ordered a Red Stripe and Zadie ordered a margarita. Tequila had gotten her this far, so why stop?
Snotty and Skinny were immediately asked to dance and they went out to grind with their new marks. Marci and Kim plopped down on some bar stools, while Betsy, Eloise, Gilda, and Jane ordered shooters. Denise went off to puke in the bathroom.
Zadie stood at the bar, every fiber in her body aware that Trevor was standing next to her. He threw some money on the
bar when the bartender brought their drinks, then handed her her margarita and clinked his beer against her glass. “To new experiences.”
Zadie took a sip, wondering what new experiences he was toasting. Europe? Stanford? Fucking her? He turned to face her, leaning against the bar.
“You’re not gonna get pissed at me, are you?”
“Why would I get pissed at you?”
He smiled at her. Not answering. Zadie noticed a few women around them recognizing him. He either didn’t notice or pretended not to notice as he took another sip of his beer, then set it down. “Let’s dance.”
Every last working brain cell Zadie possessed told her this was a bad idea, but she let him lead her out onto the dance floor. She tried to view the situation as if she were floating above it. There she was. Dancing with Trevor. His arms were around her waist. Her hips were against his. He was smiling at her.
“I always hoped you’d be like this, but I was never sure,” he said.
“Be like what?”
“You know.”
“I don’t think I do.”
Before she could question him further, she was distracted by the sight of Helen, now inside a cube, performing a strip show.
“Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“My cousin is taking off her clothes.”
He turned to look—he was still nineteen after all—and sure enough, Helen had her top off and was struggling to unhook her bra. Once she got it off, she threw it in a ceremonious gesture, but it just hit the Plexiglas window and fell to the ground.
Zadie scanned the bar. “How do I get in there to stop her?”
Trevor shrugged.
She looked around to find Betsy and the others and saw them merrily knocking back shots at the bar, completely unaware that
Helen was showing her mammaries to a room full of strangers.
Guys at the bar started to whoop and holler, encouraging Helen to slide out of her skirt. Luckily, it also encouraged a large black bouncer to yank Helen out of the cube from behind.
“Stay here.” Zadie removed Trevor’s hands from her waist—reluctantly—and went to find the entrance to the cubes. It wasn’t hard to spot, because the bouncer came out of it pushing Helen in front of him. Thankfully, she had her clothes on. The bouncer marched her toward the front door.
Zadie grabbed him. “Wait!”
He turned to look at her and Helen said, “That’s my cousin. She’ll tell you. I’m a nice girl! I’m a bride!”
The bouncer looked at Zadie. “I don’t care what she is. Our liquor license doesn’t cover topless dancing.”
“She’ll keep her clothes on. I promise.”
Eloise appeared at their side. “I’m her lawyer. Is there a problem?”
The bouncer looked at Eloise and rolled his eyes, bored with them already. “Tell your client to keep her goddamn clothes on or she’s out of here.” He went back to man his post in the corner of the room. Helen looked at Zadie.
“He was
totally
into me.”
“I’m sure he was.”
Eloise was a bit miffed. “Why in God’s name are you
stripping
in front of all these people? I was having a shot at the bar and I looked over to see your nipples smiling out at everyone.”
“I’m just ‘loosening up.’” She grinned at Zadie as if to say “It’s all your fault” and then wandered toward the bar.
Eloise turned to glare at Zadie. “Are you proud of yourself? You’ve turned her into an exhibitionist. I really don’t think Grey would’ve been too pleased if he’d seen that.”
“I didn’t pull her clothes off, she did. Don’t you dare blame this on me.”
“You encouraged her to drink.”
“So did you!”
“Well, you were the one who told her that Grey thought she was too uptight.”
Okay, that was true. Sort of. Zadie looked around. Helen was nowhere to be found. “Where’d she go?”
Eloise turned around to look. “Now you’ve lost her. Great.”
Zadie looked over at the bar and saw a flash of blond hair leaping upward. Sure enough, it was Helen, flying into the arms of Jimbo, the floor salesman from Atlanta. Zadie marched over, Eloise right behind her. Helen waved at them.
“Look! It’s Jim!” Jim gave Helen a twirl and set her down.
“Darlin’, I saw that little show you put on and I’m here to tell you—you are the woman of my dreams,” Jim said. His face seemed even ruddier than it was before.
Zadie gave him a tolerant smile. “That’s swell, Jimbo, but Helen is getting married in two days. As you’re aware. So let’s keep our hands outside of her moving vehicle, okay?”
Jim tweaked Zadie on the nose. “You’re a snappy one. I like you.”
“I’m so glad.”
Helen started pulling on Jim’s arm. “Let’s dance!”
Eloise frowned. “I think you’ve had enough dancing tonight.”
“Eloise, I’m a bachelorette! I’m supposed to be having fun. Dancing is fun. Tell her, Zadie. I saw you out there.” She gave Zadie a look that said plenty, then dragged Jimbo out on the dance floor and proceeded to do obscene things, but since they weren’t too far from the obscene things the other people were doing on the dance floor, Zadie allowed it.
Eloise set herself up as chaperone on the edge of the dance floor, arms folded, frown in place. She turned to Zadie, still keeping her eyes on Helen. “If he makes a move, he’s gonna lose an appendage.”
Zadie decided that Helen was safe on Eloise’s watch and did a quick lap around the club to find Trevor, not believing that she’d actually left him
alone
in a bar full of easy women. She spotted him at the bar, where Skinny and Snotty were on him like fleas.
She came up behind them so that she could eavesdrop and so Trevor could spot her.
Skinny was in mid-pickup line. “So, if you, like, ever need someone to buy you beer or something, you can call me. I’ll come right over.” She stuck out her implants and licked her lips. She was subtle and minxy, that one.
Trevor shrugged. “I have fake ID. I buy my own beer.”
Snotty gave it a shot. “When you do those catalog shoots, do they let people watch? I’d love to see you work.” She cocked her head and tried to look as if she were an appreciative patron of the fine art of modeling.
He looked over Snotty’s shoulder and spotted Zadie.
“There you are.” He held out his hand and pulled her into the circle. “Did you find your cousin?” Snotty and Skinny were none too pleased. There was much eye-rolling and some disgruntled sighing.
“She’s over there. Clothes on.” Zadie motioned toward the dance floor, where Helen continued to shake her wares at Jimbo.
Skinny wrinkled her nose. “Eww, is she with that guy from Atlanta? I thought we ditched them.”
“I don’t like him any better than you do at this point,” Zadie said.
Snotty curled her lip. “He’s wearing pleated pants.”
While Snotty and Skinny performed their sartorial evisceration of Jimbo, Trevor smiled at Zadie. “I was worried you left.”
He was worried? Why? Because he needed a ride or because he wanted to continue grinding against her? Trying to decipher Trevor’s intentions was becoming an all-consuming task. She couldn’t simply allow herself to believe he was attracted to her. Life just wasn’t that kind.
Trevor leaned over and whispered into her ear. “I would’ve rather watched
you
take your clothes off.”
When certain things happen, such as a male you’re quite in lust with telling you that he would enjoy seeing you naked, certain other things are supposed to happen in a sure and speedy manner. Zadie could’ve taken his hand and led him to the limo for some quick backseat action, making Jerry put up the tinted divider window so as not to hear their sin. She could’ve hailed a cab and brought him back to her place for a night of carnal savagery heretofore unknown in the state of California. She could’ve taken him into the ladies’ room and let him back her up against the wall of a stall and fuck the living hell out of her.
Zadie did none of these things.
Instead, she blushed, she giggled uncomfortably, she looked down at the floor, and she said, “I think we should get another drink.” She was torn between wanting to be sober enough to remember it if something did happen, but knowing that she’d have to be plastered to go through with it.
He smiled at her, acknowledging her discomfort without commenting on it. He leaned in close again. “Only if we can get away from these two. They’re annoying.” He motioned at Snotty and Skinny with his head.
He pulled her by the hand down to the end of the bar where Jimbo’s Atlanta crew had descended on the rest of the bachelorette
party. Jane and Gilda were knocking back shots with two of them, while Kim and Marci and Betsy were trying to explain to the rest of them why they didn’t want to dance to a song by a misogynist who “sings” about killing his wife and mother. Denise was downing every maraschino cherry in the bar prep station, much to the consternation of the bartender.
When Jane and Gilda saw Zadie with Trevor they started making lewd gestures. Jane repeatedly shoved her tongue into her cheek, making the universally known blow-job face. Thankfully the music was too loud for Trevor to hear Gilda shout, “Have you made out with him yet?” Zadie shook her head, gave Gilda a stern look, and moved down the bar a couple of feet just to make sure their actions would go unnoticed.
Trevor handed her another margarita. She couldn’t even remember what she’d done with her last one. Did she drink it? Did she leave it sitting on the bar? Was she wearing it?
“So, if we have sex and you don’t like it, you won’t fail me, will you?”
If this had been a movie, it would’ve been one of those ridiculously overdone moments where the music stops and everyone in the bar would’ve heard him. And perhaps Zadie would’ve done a spit take with her drink. Fortunately, there were no cameras and no bad directors present. Unfortunately, Zadie had no idea what to say. She just stared at him, trying not to allow herself to process what he’d just said.
In reality, it wasn’t that hard to fathom that he wanted to have sex with her. He was nineteen. Nineteen-year-olds want to have sex with everyone, don’t they? He probably masturbated five times a day. He probably got hard when he touched himself to pee. She probably shouldn’t be quite so honored to hear that he was considering her as a sexual option. But fuck it, she was. He was hot. And he’d shunned the halter-top twins in favor of her. He’d rather see her naked than Helen. He thought she was cool. These were all things that would get her through the night for many months to come.
Of course, having sex with him would also give her plenty of material to run through her head on the many long, lonely evenings ahead of her.
“If you mention your grade one more time, I’m leaving.” She said it merely because being reminded that she was his teacher was severely unsexy, but it had the unplanned effect of making her sound hard to get.
“Deal.” He clinked his beer against her glass. “So, can you tell that I stare at your boobs in class?”
“Okay, let’s just avoid school as a topic altogether.”
He nodded. “No problem.” He took a swig of his beer. She watched the way his face moved as he sucked on the bottle. His cheeks caved in, highlighting his already prominent cheekbones. His jawline was exquisite. How many times in your life can you look at someone and say that their jawline is exquisite?
“Are you drunk?” she asked.
“Not really. Are you?”
“A lot.”
“Good.” He grinned, tucking an unruly sun-bleached lock behind his ear. “So, have you ever thought about me?”
“I can’t answer that.” She could—but she wouldn’t.
He smiled at her. “I watched you getting into your car once and you pulled your skirt up thigh-high so it wouldn’t get shut in the door and I thought about you for the rest of the day.”
Zadie tried to imagine the scene. Her pulling up her skirt that she’d probably ordered from the Boston Proper catalog as she got into her Camry. Trevor watching from across the parking lot as he did tricks on his skateboard. Her starting her car, then stalling it, then starting it again as she drove home while masturbating at the thought of him.
He leaned in and whispered into her ear as he nuzzled her neck. “Don’t you wanna know what I thought about?”
Yes, she did. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She was too busy trying not to melt into a pile of goo at the feel of his lips on her skin. Then she remembered something.
“You called me old.”
He stopped nuzzling her neck and frowned. “When?”
“You said that you could always use a bunch of horny women at your show even if they were old.”
“You’re not old,” he said. Playing with a piece of her hair.
“You thought I was old when you said that.”
“Well, you’re older than the teenyboppers we get at our shows. But I don’t like those girls.”
“Why not?”
“Did you see them?”
“They were screaming your name.”
“Exactly.”
He gave her the grin again. “I wanna scream
your
name.” Oh, he was smooth. He took her hand. “Let’s dance.” And he was smart. She realized that
he
realized that the more they talked, the more freaked out she got. Best to keep it to grinding and eye contact.
Once they were back on the dance floor and his hands were on her hips she allowed herself to think it could actually happen. She could actually take him home and strip his clothes off and do nasty, nasty things to him.
“I’ve slept with four girls, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know what I’m doing.”
Uh, no, it never concerned her at all whether or not he knew what he was doing. Just the joy of his presence and naked flesh would be enough for her.
The song lapsed into something that was pure bass, offering them plenty of opportunity to mash their hips together in a preliminary fuck. She was going to do it. She was going to have sex with him tonight. As Zadie shut her eyes and pretended that he was at least twenty-five, she was rudely interrupted by Gilda.
“We may have a problem.”
Zadie opened her eyes and looked up at Gilda’s frown. She pointed to Helen and Jim, who were now in the throes of something untoward. Helen had her legs wrapped around Jim’s waist and he was backing her up against the wall, nibbling on her ear.
Eloise was trying to pull Jim off her, but Helen wasn’t helping in any way. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself.
“Oh, God.”
“I think we should leave,” Gilda said. “We have to get her in bed.”
As the other women joined Eloise in the effort to remove Jimbo from Helen, Zadie realized Gilda was right. It was time to get Helen into bed before she performed a live sex show. Grey would never forgive her if Helen hooked up with Jim. The wedding would be off and Zadie would feel guilty until the day she died.
She looked at Trevor. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get her out of here.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You know what? I think we should just call it a night.”
He actually looked pained. “But …”
Betsy and Eloise now had Helen in an armlock and were dragging her toward the door. Jimbo trailing after them.
“I
really
need to get her out of here before something happens.”
Zadie started toward the door. Not believing that she was leaving the hottest guy alive standing alone on a dance floor with half a hard-on.