I Gave My Number to a Psychopath

Hottie at the Nightclub

"You are such a prude, Ariella."

The strobe lights of the club sent an almost electrical feeling in the air. Bodies sweating, grinding against one another. A tangle of hands appeared on every inch of women the dance floor could find, making me blush as I gulped down my drink.

"I'm not," I insisted, which was about the biggest lie I could tell. I knew I was a wimp. I always second thought things. Hell, in high school during all the truth and dare games I refused to do anything against my own will, I was so scared.

Mady laughed, pounding her hand against the bar. The music drowned out her giggles. "Oh, really? You think you're such a badass?" She placed a finger to her chin, thinking. Her curly red hair was shocking against the flashing lights of the club. "All right, go ask a guy for his number. It can be any guy, I don't care, but don't even think about faking it."

"Fine." I set my drink down and stood up, the alcohol dropping down to my toes. I was never really one for drinking a lot since liquor went right through me, but I used the drink to power my determination. "I'll find someone. And he'll be hot too!"

"I'll believe it when I see it." She smiled and raised her glass to me before gulping it down.

I tightened my hold on the clutch in hand and scanned the room. The lights made it hard to focus on anything besides the shadows of faces, crammed into the room and merging together. How was I supposed to find anyone in this place? Drama was something I stayed clear of. Running into his over-protective girlfriend was something I didn't want.

I shook my head, frustrated. No, it didn't matter. I could be bold for one night. I couldn't afford to contemplate such things. Passing out my number wasn't going to kill anyone, well, maybe my dignity.

My eyes stayed on the floor as I walked. It was completely black so I couldn't see, but my heels were killing me and I already felt wobbly. Someone elbowed my rib and I grabbed a fistful of a guy's shirt.

"Hey, what are you-" The man's glare slowly shifted to a smile. "Ah, sorry. You okay?"

I nodded. He's really hot, with dark waves and dimples in his cheek. He sort of reminded me of my little brother before he got annoying and obnxious. We shared a look and he laughed.

"You want my shirt off that bad?" he asked.

I flushed, realizing I still had a hold of his white button down. Slowly, I released the fabric. "Sorry, someone hit me and I grabbed the closest thing I could find."

"No sweat." His smile was endearing. "You can grab my shirt whenever you want. I'm Jayden." He extended a tan hand.

"Ariella." I gave it a firm shake. The nerves in my stomach began to twist as I thought up something else to say. "Come here often?" I scolded myself for such a lame pick up line.

He chuckled at it anyway. "Yeah, I do, but I don't recall seeing you."

"Its my first time here," I replied nervously. Someone else knocked me over and I practically fell into Jayden's arms.

"Falling for me already?" He laughed and helped me back up. His biceps were firm and I resisted the urge to squeeze them.

To my relief, he led me back to the bar where it wasn't as loud and farthest from Mady.

"Sorry if this sounds sort of rude," he said all of a sudden, "but what nationality are you?"

I laughed. "Its not rude at all." It was actually a question I got quite often. "Wanna guess?"

"I'll take that challenge." He looked me up and down slowly, making it obvious he was checking me out. I could feel the heat crawl up my face. "Italian?"