Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(74)
A loud pounding on my bedroom door makes me jump. “Blondie, I know you’re in there. Get decent, because I’m coming in.”
“Max…” I whine. “Go away. I don’t want to see anybody.”
The door flies open and my best friend, Max, comes barreling through. He marches over to my bed and grabs my wrist, tugging me to sit up. “Jeesh, Holly, this is pathetic. Get your cute, little ass up. We’re getting you out of this house. It’s been two weeks.”
I groan and try to fling myself back onto my pillow, but Max’s hold won’t allow it. “Oh, no. No more lying in this dark room, depressed over a man that’s good riddance as far as I’m concerned. You, missy, are going out and rejoining the land of the living, whether you like it or not.”
I try to protest, but Max grabs my arm and leg and hoists me over his broad shoulders. “No, Max. Please.”
He sighs. “Holly, this is for your own good. I’m tired of seeing you waste your energy on Jackson Cruze. He’s an *, and I’m glad you aren’t with him anymore.”
“But, I love him, Max. I don’t know how to live my life without him,” I argue as Max carries me down the hall towards the bathroom.
Once we’re in the bathroom, Max sets me down and turns on the shower before facing me. “You need to find new happiness without him. It’s over between the two of you. I’ve already seen him with other women. Trust me, he’s not pinning away over you. It’s time to move on.”
Tears burn my eyes of how little I actually meant to him. “He’s dating already?”
Max nods and places his hands on my shoulders. “It’s time for you to get back out there too. Now get your skanky ass a shower and get ready. I’m taking you to a club.”
A couple hours later I find myself downtown with Max. It’s 90’s Nite in one of the hottest clubs in town, and I love to dance and drink. It’s the perfect combination to wipe away the memories of a man that’s done me wrong.
I glance around and survey all the men in place. Why are all the really hot men either gay or taken? I swear there’s one decent man left in Tucson. Thank God my best friend is with me. I have terrible gaydar.
“I told you this would be great,” Max yells over the music as he dances with me to the beat of a Roxette song blaring through the speakers. “You’ll be saying, ‘Jackson who?’ by the time we leave this heavenly bar filled with hot men.”
I giggle and take another sip of my Sex on the Beach—compliments of Max and my fake ID. “This is a great idea—nothing like celebrating your birthday two weeks after getting dumped by the biggest jackass in the state.”
Max laughs and his brown hair falls over the corner of his left eye before he takes me by the hand ready to spin me. “That was the best thing that ever happened to you, Holly. Trust me. He didn’t appreciate what he had.” He raises his glass of soda. “Here’s to a new start in your twenties, may they be better than your teen years.”
“I’ll drink to that!” A tingle erupts in my hands, signaling I’ve nearly hit my limit, but I’m not about to let this yummy drink go to waste. Plus, it’s hot in here. I down the last of it and hand Max the glass. “One more?” I give him the best pleading puppy-dog eyes I can manage.
I’m not ready to stop having fun yet. It’s nice to not have to think about Jackson for a change and just have fun with my friend.
He sighs. “One more and that’s it. And it’s only because you’re finally smiling for once in the last two weeks, but we’re leaving while you can still walk out of here.”
I throw my arms around his neck, leaning up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Max. You’re the bestest friend and designated driver a girl could ever have.”
He laughs. “Remember how much you love me when you’re praying to the porcelain god in the morning and cursing me for letting you drink so much.”
“Deal,” I say as I release him and go back to rocking my hips to the beat.
I fling my hair from side to side and sing along to the song, dancing like I’m alone in my bedroom instead of at a crowded bar. Normally, I’m reserved, but tonight I’m cutting loose and living up being single. I need a break from my straight-laced life.
Half way into the song, a body presses up against my back, dancing in time with me. That didn’t take long. I tug the bottom of my little, black dress down around my thighs. The dang thing rides up every time I move and it’s getting on my last nerve.
The music pumps all around me and the faceless stranger while the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed has my head swimming. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the hard chest behind me and breathe in the spicy scent of men’s cologne. He smells mouth-watering, and I just pray that when I turn around he’s as hot as I’m imagining.
The song changes and our bodies move in sync to the erotic beat of Closer by Nine Inch Nails. Trent Reznor’s voice growling through the speakers about f*cking causes a strange surge of arousal to come over me.
The guy behind me feels it too. Our dance turns slow and sensual as he grinds himself into my ass. His hands run down my bare arms then rest on my hips. He jerks me against him even tighter and brushes my hair to the side. I should stop him, but it’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this, I don’t want it to end. I like it too much. The feel of his nose gliding against my neck causes my mouth to drift open and I allow myself to enjoy his close proximity.