“You don’t get to tell me anything, anymore,” I say, holding my ground. I spent years listening to him telling me what to do, what to wear, what to cook him, and the list just goes on and on. I won’t be that person ever again. I want a life, with the men I love.
"I'm going to give you four months, Ellie, four months to make the right decision and then come to me," he says. The way he says it, it’s like he expects me to come to him. Holy ducks, he is crazy.
"You are bloody crazy, Drew!" I shout at him.
"Not even one little bit, and I did you a favour, you can thank me later," he laughs.
"If your favour was getting Dom arrested, it won't last," I say as he moves closer to me, terror slamming through my body when I look into his eyes once more.
"That was a distraction to get you alone," he says and laughs louder. The laugh is so cold, it’s frightening.
My heart pounds against my chest as I watch him walk away and leave the house. I scramble after him and lock the door.
I place my hand on my bump, worry filling every part of me.
What was his favour?
—
Three months earlier . . .
Two drinks?" I ask Liz as loud as I can as she hands me two fruity looking cocktails. I haven't drunk anything in years, so this is a lot for me.
"Yes, your divorce went through! We are celebrating!" Liz shouts over the music of the club. I laugh and silently agree with her, I'm finally free. I got married when I was eighteen, and it was the stupidest thing I ever did. No one is old enough to get married at eighteen and actually know the person they are marrying. Sure, it might have worked for someone else, but not for me. For me, it just ended up in tears, my tears not his.
No, his tears were lost somewhere inside of the secretary he was fucking. Why is it always the secretary?
I quickly drink the two fruity drinks and look around the bar. I haven't had sex in four years, four years of watching my husband snoring next to me and only staying with him because I thought I loved him. Hell, I have no idea what love is. The closest I think I've come to seeing it is my parents who have been married for twenty years. Even then, I think they just basically ignore each other, and that’s how they have gotten so far without trying to kill each other.
"Come and dance, you’re twenty-six, and you need to get laid!" Liz pulls my arm and voices my inner thoughts. It's a sign we have known each other way too long.
I let Liz pull me to the packed dance floor, the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies filling my senses. I remember why I don’t like these places now. It's funny how you miss something that you didn’t actually like. I don’t think I will be missing my ex-husband any time soon, though. If I start to, I'm going to get Liz to hit me on the head with something heavy until some sense is knocked back into me.
I move my body to the music, my top and skirt sticking to my back with the heat of all the bodies. I'm glad my hair is up in some complicated bun that I had done at the hairdressers. I don’t know how many clips are in it, but I know it’s going to take forever to get them all out. It only takes a minute or so of dancing before I feel hands sliding down around my waist. Liz was right, she bet that I would be hit on straight away. I'm not stupid enough to think I'm not attractive, but I'm nowhere near as stunning as Liz is. Pulling together all the courage I have, I turn to see the most attractive man I have ever seen.
Sinful, blue eyes, golden skin, and golden, short hair. This man should not be dancing with a girl like me, he looks like he should be dancing with a supermodel or something.
I let him pull me closer, our bodies swaying to the music, and I find out that he can really dance. I let him control the movements, following the music to a beat. I don’t think I have ever seen a man able to dance like this, I feel like we’re halfway to having sex, and he hasn’t even kissed me yet.
One of his smooth, large hands slides up my back and to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he moves his head next to mine.
His soft lips trail up my neck, across my jaw until our lips meet. The man only brushes his lips across mine until I push back with my own. He only needs that little encouragement as he takes my lips in a passionate embrace, and his hand finds the back of my head. I moan a little when he pulls me harder against his toned body, every hard part of him pushing against me. The man smells like alcohol and mint at the same time. It's intoxicating.
"Come back to mine?" he asks in a whisper, a whisper that promises a night full of passion. Something I cannot ever remember having and something I really want, even with this hot stranger. I have only ever slept with one person in my life, and I want to explore. What’s better than a hot stranger to do that with?
"Yes," I whisper back close to his ear. I have to stretch up on my tip toes to get close to his ear, but he keeps us swaying to the music as I do. He is so tall compared to me. The man takes my hand, and we walk out of the dancers. I briefly catch Liz's eyes by the bar, she winks at me and gives me a thumbs up. At least, I don't have to message her to let her know I'm leaving. The man wraps his arm around my waist as we get outside, and the cold air hits me. My very small, glittery top and long, tight, black skirt aren’t doing much to keep me warm. The man, whose name I don't know, takes his jacket off and wraps it around my shoulders as we walk the twenty or so steps to the taxi rank.
"We don't know each other's names," I say, hesitating a little outside the taxi door the man holds open for me.
"Andre, yours?" he asks. Andre's voice is deep and sounds so much more seductive outside the club.
"Ellie," I say, and he smiles before he presses a gentle kiss on my lips. The man can kiss, that’s for sure.
"Make your choice, Ellie," he says as he moves back. I choose to get into the taxi.
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