The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(8)
Standing on her tiptoes, she scanned the crowd. “No, but we need a drink. We’ll run into them at some point.” She linked her arm through mine and pulled me through the masses of hot sweaty bodies, grinding against each other toward the bar.
A few well-placed elbows here and there and I stood smashed between two people at the bar. “Tequila shot?” I asked Vera, glancing over my shoulder. I might as well start with the strong stuff. With any luck, it’d keep my negative thoughts at bay…or amplify them so I morphed into a messy, tear-stained drunk.
“Nope.” She held up a bar menu she snagged off one of the tables, waving it in front of my face. “We are going to have every shot on this list.”
I scanned the list and raised one eyebrow. “I don’t have any interest in seeing the inside of a Mexican hospital tonight or ever.”
She shoved my shoulder playfully, and I teetered sideways on my ridiculously high heels right into the person next to me. He didn’t notice.
“Not all of them. I was just messing with you. Let’s start with a…” She ran her finger down the menu with her eyes closed. Her eyes popped open, and her finger stopped.
I leaned over and squinted to bring the words into focus when the strobe light flashed. “A Prairie Fire?”
Vera scrunched up her nose and groaned. “I guess the gods have spoken.”
“Do you realize what’s in that shot?”
“Yeah, but we’re letting fate take over tonight, so a Prairie Fire it is.”
I shook my head. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret going out tonight.”
“Regrets mean you had fun. Stop being so whiny.”
Three shots later and we had imbibed enough liquid courage to climb on top of the bar and dance with a few random girls. I twirled, twisted, and rocked my hips back and forth. Guys gathered around the bar, cheering us on and touching me way more than I liked, but I decided to go with it. This was my last Spring Break before I graduated. I would go with the flow, even if it killed me.
“I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I yelled next to Vera’s ear, two body shots and more than an hour later. I didn’t need to go. My arches were crying for relief from my four-inch heels, and I needed to sit down. Unfortunately, Vera looked as though she didn’t have any intention of stopping anytime soon, which meant I was on my own for a while.
“Wait.” Her hand looped around my forearm. “Look over there.” She tipped her head toward the far end of the bar.
My eyes drifted over the faces of the people. “Can you be more specific? What am I looking at?”
“Are you really that clueless?” She elbowed me in the ribs. “Mr. Dark and Sexy sitting at the end of the bar. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you for the last ten minutes.” She lowered her voice even though the music was loud enough to be heard three blocks away. “I think we may have found the man to wipe away any lingering messy feelings you have for Evan.”
“I told you I’m not hooking up with a random guy.”
“When you see him, you’ll change your mind.”
With my heart hammering against my ribcage, I pushed my hair behind ear, and I turned my head sideways again, trying to be inconspicuous. Holy hell. The most insanely good-looking man I’d ever seen sat not more than twenty feet away. How did I miss him? One glance and thoughts of twisted sheets and a hot, sweaty night flashed through my mind.
When my eyes connected with his, all the air rushed out of my lungs, my nipples tightened, and my hands shook. “Wow,” I whispered, mostly to myself as I quickly lowered my eyes.
Vera grinned like a maniac. “My thoughts exactly.” She nudged my back. “Go get him.”
“Maybe I need another shot first. We haven’t sampled the Buttery Nipple.” Everything about the way he watched me said he wanted to talk to me, and a whole lot more. Rather than giving me confidence, the knowledge sent a ripple of uncertainty through my alcohol-filled stomach. I didn’t know the first thing about flirting or random hookups, and the way he looked at me made me nervous in a way I couldn’t remember feeling since starring in my high school play at the age of sixteen.
Vera elbowed me in the side. “Put on your big girl pants and go over there. You need to bust out of your comfort zone.”
My eyes glued to the wood counter, I twisted my hands in the folds of the dress. I wasn’t prepared to meet a man like him today. Who was I kidding? I’d never be prepared, and that thought coupled with too much alcohol made me a little reckless. “What the hell,” I said. I slid off the raised surface and pushed through the masses of people.
“You’ve got this,” Vera shouted after me, but I didn’t turn around to acknowledge her comment. I would catch up with her in a few minutes after I crashed and burned because there wasn’t any other possibility. I shoved my way through the crowd, brushing up against undulating bodies, a few wandering hands, and a whole lot of sweaty skin.
When the crowd cleared, I came face to face with him. I blinked, overwhelmed and wide-eyed. Close up, he was downright intimidating and a million times more devastatingly handsome than from afar. He was a little older than me, but he had every physical characteristic a woman wanted in a man: broad shoulders, powerfully sculpted muscles, dark hair just long enough to curl at the ends, and a savagely elegant face that hinted at a thinly concealed eroticism. At this range, I even saw his eyes. They were a striking shade of gray that both complemented and enhanced his olive complexion, and they were trained 100 percent on me.