hours until the party. I shave and wash and condition my hair. I do a hair mask and a face mask, and then use my in-shower lotion so I’m nice and soft. Finally, I have nothing left to do so I climb out and wrap a towel around myself.
I decide to throw on some pajamas while I do my hair and makeup and find something for dinner. I end up eating a salad on the couch while my hair air dries. Once I finish, I’m back in the bathroom to get ready for the long night of partying that’s sure to come.
At seven I’m finally fully dressed and ready to have a night out on the town. I stand back and look myself over in the mirror. My black skinny jeans hug every curve of my hips and thighs. The holes and rips from the distressing gives a peek at my tanned legs. I tuck in a simple white tank and throw on a black and gold belt. I pair the outfit with a pair of black high heeled boots. I went extra heavy on the eye makeup, with a smoky eye, false lashes, and a shiny lip. My long dark hair is full of curls and body, looking a little messy just like I like it. I grab my purse and head for the car, more than ready to celebrate with my girls.
I walk into Stella’s and the place is already crowded. Every table is occupied. Every barstool already taken. The dance floor is filled with moving bodies and groups stand in almost every free area of the bar. I find the girls in a back corner booth. I put a smile on my face and make my way back.
“Harley!” Cora yells with a smile when she sees me. She rushes up to me, throwing her arms around my neck for a big hug.
I giggle. “You hit the sauce already?,” I ask her, hugging her back and picking pink boa feathers out of my mouth.
She pulls back and laughs, smoothing down her boa. “I might have pregamed,” she winks at me dramatically. “You ok? You seemed a little sad today.”
I wave her off. “I was just tired…and hungry. Both problems have been solved now. I’m good. Now, what do you say to getting hammered and not remembering this night?” I ask with a wide smile.
She throws her arms in the air and lets out a long howl before leading me the rest of the way to the table where shots are already lined up.
Shots are poured quickly and the beer seems to be in an endless supply. I don’t remember making the conscious decision to attempt to kill myself with alcohol tonight, but that’s apparently what I’ve done. My vision is blurring and my body feels extra sensitive. Of course, that could have something to do with the arms I’m engulfed in. A sexy man who’s tall, muscular, has thick dark hair, and a scruff to his jaw is holding me close, his body grinding against mine.
“What’s your name?” I ask over my shoulder as I wiggle my ass against him.
His hands tighten on my hips. “ Foster,” he whispers low in my ear. “What’s yours?”
I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck. With a smile I say, “Harley.”
“Harley, huh? Don’t think I’ve heard that outside of the Joker cartoon.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m not named after Harley Quinn. My daddy was a biker.” I shrug one shoulder and play indifferent.
He leans in closer and his hot breath washes over my dry lips. “What do you say to coming home with me tonight?” His lips press against my jaw and it makes my eyes flutter closed.
“I would love to, but I’m here with some friends, celebrating an engagement.”
“Not yours, I hope.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips and his brow arches as he awaits my answer.
I laugh. “No, never mine. I’m still too wild to get married. I like to have too much fun.” I give him a teasing smile.
“Is that so?” he asks, slowly leaning in to test the waters. I know what he wants and the alcohol in my system makes me lean forward, capturing his lips with my own. His lips are soft and teasing. They move slowly at first but then pick up speed and intensity. They part and his tongue makes its way into my mouth. He tastes of beer and spiced rum and his