"What? Oh, you mean the drinks? That depends, which one do you think is mine?" she says, throwing her own flirtatious smile my way.
"Okay, let's see," I rub my chin pretending to be deep in thought. "You don't seem drunk enough to be drinking tequila shots tonight, so that's out. And you don't seem like the type of girl to order a fruity drink that comes complete with a cherry sword skewer and toy umbrella. Simple process of elimination, I'm going to guess the Corona is yours."
Staring at all three drinks in front of her, she waves her hand over them, making a show of reaching for each one. She finally reaches down, pulls out the umbrella and cherry skewer, and tosses them out of the fruity drink.
“Well, you were right about one thing, I don't order drinks with cherry swords and plastic umbrellas. I do, however, love Sex on the Beach," she says with a wink before chugging the drink and slamming it on the bar like she’s hanging with Patrick Swayze at The Roadhouse.
"Do you dance?" she asks, using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth.
"Why, yes ma’am, Danika, I surely do." I reply in what can only be described as the perfect southern accent.
"Wow. That was terrible. Brett, for your sake, I hope your dancing is better than your linguistic abilities," she says, just seconds before slapping me on the ass and heading to the dance floor.
I know it is definitely too soon to be in love with this crazy woman, but I do know I'm in a shit ton of trouble.
Brett
I SPENT the rest of the night glued to Danika's ass. I mean that both literally and figuratively. We danced, we laughed, and best of all, we got to know each other. She was beautiful in every way possible. She told me about her dreams to become a writer, and I told her about my decision to join the police force as soon as I finished college. I bought drinks and her girlfriends made toasts to absurd things like "vibrating butt plugs" and "bisexual men everywhere." While I may have been wrong about the amount of alcohol this woman could consume, I was absolutely correct about where her evening would end.
Three hours after meeting Danika, I sat in her bathroom holding her hair while she threw up. It was quite possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever experienced. She puked until it was physically impossible for her to puke anymore. It was horrible, but I did what any man who wanted to have sex with a woman would do. I sat and stroked her hair while gagging and praying to God to keep myself from puking, too. By the time she finally finished evicting her organs into the toilet, I may have made an agreement with the powers above to name my first born Hephzibah just to make her stop.
I eventually woke up confused and hanging off the edge of an unknown bed. Opening my eyes, I immediately recognized the ocean blues of the beautiful woman standing over me.
"Hey," she says, while walking around the side of the bed to sit down next to me.
"Jesus, it's early. How are you awake after the five-star puke show you put on last night?"
"Unless you want an encore, you seriously need to shut your mouth."
"Oh God, no! I’ve been scarred enough. Do you want to get breakfast? Or did you flush your stomach down the toilet last night, along with the seventeen olives you stole from the bartender’s garnish tray?"
"He left the tray wide open. He was asking for someone to steal his olives!" she says, while trying to playfully punch me.
"Okay, okay, stop. I give up! I'm not awake enough for full contact sports."
I grab her around the waist dragging her down to lay on top of me. She freezes completely, and I realize that while we were very affectionate with each other last night, she was drunk. I have no idea how much she actually even remembers from the night before. Releasing her from my arms, I sit up taking her stiff body with me. I place her on the bed next to me and run my hands back and forth over my thighs, just to keep myself from touching her again.
"Hey, let’s start over. I'm Brett. I like football, long walks on the beach, beer, and golden retrievers. I'm terrified of scary movies, especially the ones made by Disney. I'm a Virgo, but don't worry, I act like a Pisces...or at least that is what my sisters tell me." I ramble, finishing with a closed-mouth smile, suddenly aware of our close proximity and my lack of a toothbrush.
"Well, hello Brett. Nice to meet you...again," she winks.
"So I'm guessing the wink means you remember last night?"
"Yep, I'm one of the unlucky few who never gets to forget a single drunken dance move. I’d be willing to give my first born to forget the ass I made of myself last night."
"His name will be Hephzibah," I answer matter-of-factly.
"What?"
"Nothing...just a little deal I made with The Lord last night," I mumble, dismissing the obviously bad joke with a hand gesture.
"Well, okay then," she says confused, but drops it obviously not wanting to discuss last night any longer.
I stand feeling uncomfortable still sitting on her bed, "I better get going. I'm sure you have things to do today."