Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Next to the door labeled Bianca, I see a light-pink door with a small sign reading Ladies. I open the door. It’s overwhelmingly pink, as if a Valentine’s Day card puked over the entire area. The floor is surfaced in red and white tiles with pink hearts at the center, and a fuchsia chaise lies at the bathroom’s entrance. Standing sinks and stall walls the shade of bubblegum dominate the space. But I don’t go to a toilet—which I’m sure is the same color as everything else in here, including my cheeks—but rather the mirror. I want to check my makeup.
Something about looking in a mirror by yourself makes you understand exactly how drunk you are. There’s no hiding it from the world in here. Every ounce of liquor in your system is exposed when only the fluorescent lights and the sink are your company.
And in this moment, I’m realizing I’m pretty drunk.
I was able to act normally around Maddox, minus my shameless flirtations. I don’t want him to think I’m a lush or anything. And I’m not exactly wasted, but I absolutely would not be driving if given the option. I don’t think going on public transit would be a good move for me right now, either. Thank God Maddox is driving me home.
My makeup looks all right—my lipstick is just a bit smeared. I fix it up. Best for my lips to look luscious and kissable.
I always clean my apartment, shave my legs and other areas before a date, just in case I end up bringing a man back to my place. I’ve invited Maddox for a drink, and he told me that he didn’t read anything into that invitation, but who am I kidding?
He’s a man. A gorgeous one at that.
If I said so, he’d plunder me completely, taking everything he needs from my body to sate his sexual appetite.
God, I bet he has a gorgeous cock. Long and thick and probably nicely groomed, like the rest of his appearance. He’ll fill me in the most perfect way.
I shake the thought out of my head.
Cart before the horse, Alissa, cart before the horse.
It’s our first date. He’ll think I’m easy if I put out on the first date.
Normally it’s simple to control myself. Even when I’m extremely attracted to a guy, I’m able to keep myself in check until at least our third time going out.
With Maddox I’m not sure I’ll be able to.
I press my lips together to even out my lipstick. I chose a bold purplish-red tonight—so not my normal style, but it felt like the appropriate shade for an evening out. It perfectly matches the vibe at this club, though. I’ve been assaulted by vivid colors all evening. My lips are pale in comparison.
My eyeliner and mascara looks all right. I’m not wearing any foundation—I hate how it makes me feel plugged up, and my skin is even-toned on its own—but I did apply just a hint of blush on my cheeks. That still looks good, too.
I’m ready to take Maddox home.
I mean… I’m ready for Maddox to escort me to my flat.
Maybe have a drink.
If I can even stomach a fifth drink. I suppose I didn’t really drink much of the fourth.
I walk back out of the blushing bathroom and cross the club to the table. Maddox is standing, holding my coat. “I took the liberty of grabbing this from the coat check. I assume you’re still ready to go home.”
I nod. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you. Can I at least pay you back for the tip?”
He shakes his head. “Like I said before, your money is no good here.”
He holds out my coat and I shimmy my arms through. I struggle just a bit—my coordination is not at its peak right now—but soon I have it on. I reach into the pockets and pull out a pair of sleek red leather gloves and slide them onto my hands.
I look up at Maddox. “You didn’t bring a coat, did you?”
“It’s a short walk from the club entrance to where I parked. Seemed excessive.” He looks me up and down. “Did you need to pick anything up from the hospital before we go?”
“No. I changed out of my scrubs at the hospital, which I sent to the laundry. Everything else I need is in my bag.” I pat my purse.
We leave the club, up the mirrored staircase. Maddox knocks three times on the door leading to the foyer, which Chet opens immediately. He watches us, grinning, as we go out the black door into the alleyway.
Night has fallen, of course, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky—a rare occurrence this time of year—and I can see the few stars that the Chicago lights allow through. They’re twinkling fiercely, almost with a gentle madness.