I took a gulp of my water, enough that I could technically say I was done with it since there was no way I’d be touching it when I got back to my table.
I wasn’t going to be roofied.
Plus, I wasn’t stupid.
“Want to dance, mamacita?” I heard called over my shoulder.
I turned from where I was swaying my hips along with the beat to find a very beautiful man at my back.
He was tall.
He had a black leather vest over a red t-shirt with black jeans and a pair of black boots.
I knew he spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
Did I care?
Fuck no.
Because I was a single lady, and single ladies had needs.
No, not that kind of needs.
Needs that made me want another human’s touch. Crave it.
Needs that Michael should be fulfilling right now. Not leaving me to my own devices.
Jesus, now I was depressing myself again.
I turned, and the man’s eyes immediately went down to my stomach.
Something I made no effort to hide.
I was proud of this stomach.
I was one week shy of four months pregnant, and I was definitely showing.
My previous flat belly was now gently rounded.
And my jeans that I was wearing hugged my legs and hips like a glove.
I had on black spiky heeled boots that came up to mid-calf, and a skin tight black, low cut tank top that showed off the girls.
It was an outfit that I knew would drive Michael wild if he saw.
He wouldn’t, but I still hoped.
“Yeah?” I asked sharply.
His eyes moved up from my belly to my face and he asked abruptly, “You got a man?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I have a man.”
His shoulders seemed to slump. “Shit. I was hoping you’d say different.”
I smiled genuinely at him.
“Life’s a bitch like that,” I offered him my hand. “My name’s Nikki.”
He took my hand, shook it twice, then let it go.
“Name’s Dane. Can I get you another drink?” He asked, looking pointedly at the near empty glass.
“Sure, but I’m going to dance right now. You may want to wait because if it sits there too long, I won’t drink it,” I told him, taking a step away from him.
He smiled. “I’ll do that. But I have a meeting that’s supposed to start in about fifteen minutes. I’ll have to take a raincheck.”
I tossed a laugh over my shoulder and then disappeared into the crowd onto the dance floor.
Shaking my ‘bon bon’ to some Ricky Martin, completely forgetting about the man and his ‘meeting’ by the time the fourth song, Pitbull this time, rolled around.
***
Forty five minutes later, I came off the dance floor with one thing in mind.
A bathroom.
Quick.
I barreled through the door to my destination, and came to a sudden halt when I was faced with the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.
And she was pregnant to boot.
Flowing blonde hair that came down to her ass. A black skirt pulled up to just underneath her belly, a sky blue tank top, and gold gladiator sandals rounded out the outfit.
She looked hip and trendy, something I never managed to do.
My curves were too generous to look nice in what she was wearing.
“Hello,” I said, skirting around behind her to go into the stall behind her.
“Hi!” She answered back immediately.
I did my business, but heard her leave before I made it back out of the stall.
Washing my hands and fixing some fly-aways from the bobby pins holding my hair out of my face, I smoothed my hands down my jeans and made my way out to the mouth of the hallway.
I tried to decide whether or not to grab a drink from the bar again before going out to the dance floor once again when I saw them.
And my heart stalled in my chest, coming to a slow, pounding stop before it started beating again at a rapid staccato.
Because there, in front of me, was Michael.
He had his arm around the blonde woman from the bathroom, laughing with her.
Dane was across from them on a bench by himself, watching the two interact with crude eyes.
He said something to them, and made his way to the bar.
Where he ordered a water, and turned to smile at me.
I didn’t smile back.