“Emerson.” I hear my name literally screeched the second the Pulse nightclub’s entrance comes into view.
Brooke bounces on the spot, waving to me, and I wave back, embarrassed by the attention I’m now getting.
“Where’s Josh?” she asks, glancing around.
“Running late I’m afraid, but he’ll be here.” A burst water pipe at Todd’s café this afternoon was, of course, a valid excuse for Josh to change our plans of meeting for dinner and going to the club together. The plumber hadn’t shown up, so Todd had begged his best mate to help minimise the damage. I’d told him to give Todd a hug from me and that I’d just meet him at the club later.
Kissing my cheek, Brooke holds me at arm’s length. “You look hot.” I’m not offended by the shock in her voice. She’s never seen me in anything other than jeans and T-shirts. “I’m so glad you came.”
When I was choosing what to wear last night, I realized how few ‘going out’ clothes I had and that my nightclub attire was non-existent. On my lunchbreak, I walked to a clothing shop located in the adjoining suburb and found a slim-fitting black dress. It was shorter than I was accustomed to, but the shop assistant insisted it really suited me. She also managed to talk me into some gold accessories and strappy heels. My left arm is completely covered while my right arm is left bare. It creates a striking contrast, and I’m determined to own the look.
Brooke drags me through the club like a woman possessed. I direct all my focus into staying upright as I stumble along behind her. I knew I couldn’t wear my trusty Chucks or even ballet flats with this outfit, but my feet wholeheartedly disagree. When we stop, I’m introduced to a large group of her friends both sitting and standing around two tables near the bar. I nod and smile, attempting to remember names. A couple of them seem vaguely familiar, and I wonder if they’re actors.
“And of course you know Tennyson,” she says, and I sigh with relief that I know one other person. He’s walking back to the table with a tray of drinks and smiles widely when he sees me.
“Hey, Tenn,” I say, my smile matching his.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he says, nodding as he appraises my outfit. “Josh here?”
I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Not yet, but soon hopefully.”
“Well don’t accept drinks from anyone but me. Okay?” His happy-go-lucky tone from moments ago is now replaced with a very serious expression. “What’s your poison?”
I have so little experience with alcohol but figure a little Dutch courage wouldn’t go astray. “Vodka tonic please.”
“Coming right up.” He disappears back to the bar.
Glancing around, I take in the monochromatic interiors being shot with colour in a lightshow that feels like some sort of artistic entertainment. The dance floor is heating up with semi-naked bodies, and I can’t deny the surge of adrenaline the atmosphere injects into me. My anti-social instincts are being driven out by the synchronised music and lights.
“One vodka tonic,” Tenn says, handing me a tall glass. “Do not put it down.”
“Thank you,” I say, warmed by his concern. I take a long sip and welcome the buzz.
I open my mouth to say something else, but Tenn has already turned away, beckoned by one of Brooke’s very attractive, busty friends. Knowing he’s in a dark place having been left by his wife, it’s really good to see him letting loose a little.
I finish my drink in one long gulp, then feel a tap on my shoulder. Swivelling around, I’m face-to-face with a guy I was introduced to earlier. His name escapes me.
“Emerson.” He holds his hand out, so I shake it confidently, willing his name to miraculously appear in my head. Obviously realising I don’t have a clue, he saves me. “Rick. There were a lot of names for you to remember.”
He’s still holding my hand and rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. He’s flirting with me, but I have no idea how to deal with it. “Good to meet you, Rick.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, taking a step closer so he’s officially in my personal space and still holding my hand.
“We need to dance,” Brooke says, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me away. “Dance or throw up. That’s my motto.” Her long, black hair is flicked over her shoulder, and her chin tips up. She glances at Rick. “Sorry, buddy. She’s taken.”
One of her friends, I think her name is Taya, jumps up from her seat, and we follow Brooke to the dancefloor. I must’ve glanced at the front entrance a hundred times since we arrived, hoping to see Josh, but he’s yet to show. The music is overwhelming, but as the beat rises and falls, I begin to relax. I want to feel completely free. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see him on the other side of the dance floor. The music simply fades away. Like a woman possessed, I push past jostling, sweaty bodies for a closer look. His back is to me, and he’s moving in the wrong direction. I can’t get to him. When he turns, I stop dead in my tracks, and my heart thunders painfully in my chest. It’s not my Mereki at all. Of course it isn’t. My knees feel too weak to hold me up, and I can’t get enough air into my lungs. Whipping around, I see Brooke and Taya still dancing provocatively, oblivious to my near meltdown. I can’t think straight. Clutching my chest, I try to rub the ache away, but I need more space to breathe. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” I say into Brooke’s ear when I make it back to her.
“Are you okay?” she asks, shouting. “You’re white as a sheet.”
I nod, then rush off the dance floor.
The relative quiet of the bathroom gives me the opportunity to pull myself together. Listening to a group of drunk girls gossiping with over-the-top animation helps to get my mind off what just happened. By the time I return to the group near the bar, I’m feeling a lot better.
It’s almost after ten and no Josh. I check my phone and see a text from him fifteen minutes ago saying he’s nearly here. I smile at his message, then smile wider when I look up and lock eyes with him only a few feet away. My insides liquefy as his gaze carefully examines my body. Lust is clear in his eyes and determination evident in his stride as he closes the short distance between us. I reach out and grab a conveniently-placed handrail as my legs feel unsteady. My angst, pain, and heartache fade to grey when Josh drinks me in and absorbs it all.
Without caring that Brooke and her friends are right there, he kisses me like he means to lay claim, and I let him.
“You look fucking amazing,” he says in my ear.
It’s the first time I’ve heard him really swear, and there’s something very hot about it when used so rarely and with such passion.
“Thank you.” I run my hands around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” And boy is that an understatement.
The usually very casually-dressed Josh is now in dark denim jeans that appear custom made for his incredible body, together with a black, short-sleeved, button-down shirt. It isn’t tight because I know that’s not his style, but it is more form-fitting than anything I’ve seen him in before.
Brooke introduces him around, and he attempts conversation with a few of her friends, but the music seems to be getting louder. I can barely hear myself think.
When I next look at my watch, it’s after midnight.
“Another friend of mine is DJing at the new club on Little Bourke,” Brooke says. “Do you wanna come?”
Taya bounces up and down on her seat. “Absolutely.” She turns to Josh and me. “Come on, guys. The night is young.”
Josh meets my gaze, and the air crackles between us. It’s clear neither of us has any interest in hitting another club. I hold my hands up in front of me. “Not me. I’m done.”
Josh appears relieved. “Happy birthday,” he says, kissing Brooke on the cheek.
As we leave the club, Josh’s hand firmly clasping mine, my gut twists in elaborate knots while my mind leaps in a thousand different directions. Regardless of how much I want to ignore it, my body is giving me a warning and I should be taking heed.