I finish getting changed and watch him read the text.He looks around to see if anyone is watching him.Most of them have headed back to the hotel room and some are coming back from the showers.
Kyle (the not much of a tosser)
Sounds like the fourth ring of hell.But at least you’ll be there.
I chuckle silently at this and finish tying my shoes.
AJ
Meet you back in the room in ten?
Kyle (the not much of a tosser)
Sure thing.But please, don’t bring any women.Rockwell has already sorted me some and I’ll have my hands full.
AJ
You’re a dick.
Kyle (the not much of a tosser)
You love it.
AJ
Your dick?Yeah.
I watch as Kyle’s sly smile blooms on his face, and then I leave the changing room, slightly adjusting myself as I go.
The nightclub is extravagant, and I hate everything about it.People are literally falling over themselves to try and get to us in our VIP booth.Kyle and I arrived separately to avoid any suspicion—not that there is anything to be suspicious about, as he made his feelings clear, again.Right now, though, we’re like two wallflowers, sitting at the end of the huge table.Rockwell has been trying to palm at least four women off on us already, and we have politely declined, using as many excuses as we can.
The music reverberates in my chest, and quite frankly, I would like to die.This is not my vibe.
“Shots!Shots!Shots!”Smith announces, brandishing a tray full of what looks like Sambuca.I sniff mine once it’s handed to me, and yes—it’s Sambuca.Brilliant.In the sense thatthis is not, in fact, brilliant but really quite shit.I can’t decline this too, or I’ll be the laughingstock of the team.The “wet wipe,” as some of them say.
“On three?”I say to Kyle.
“Can we make it on a bigger number, like one trillion?”
I laugh, “One, two, three.”
We both down the foul-tasting drink, and my whole body wriggles.
“Well, that was foul.”
“You sure?I didn’t see you dive.”I look at him, and he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.God, I love that smile.
I dig him in the ribs, “Fucker.”
He leans into me and whispers in my ear, “Her?Not my type.”
“When did you get so funny?”
“Always have been.I’m known for my wit and stunning personality.”The grin is still there, and this time, he accompanies it with a wink.
“Now I know you’re joking.You barely say anything to anyone, ever.I’m surprised you're still talking to me.”The music feels as though it’s getting louder, I glance over at the rest of the squad, and they’re being entertained by an assortment of women.
“You’re not just anyone, and you know that.”My heart.Somehow he always manages to say words that have the capacity to make my heart burst with joy, or deflate into oblivion.I want to move closer to him, close the gap between us, but there are too many eyes.Too many people with camera phones these days, waiting to sell a story to the paps.
