❝ CRAZY FOR YOU ❞
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The common room was crowded and smoky, the opulent area thick with grey clouds billowing around the room. It hovered mostly atop a round table near the back where Negan's men congregated. She saw Simon first, round cigar between his lips with an animated smile stretched beneath his hirsute lip. Beside him was Negan, his leather jacket, evidently unimpressed with the cigarette smoking going on around him.
She unabashedly attempted to hide behind Sherry, but when four girls as good looking as Negan's wives walk into a room, heads turn. Including his.
He was shocked at first, his jaw lowering as his eyes roamed up and down her body from the very corner of the room, but it faded quickly and turned into annoyance. It was a familiar expression, the way his jaw ticked and his eyelids hooded. She figured it was a problem she'd have to deal with later.
"What do you think?" Sherry turned to her.
"10/10, so far," she responded sardonically. The woman rolled her eyes and took Winona by the hand, dragging her closest to the platform as they could get. The girls gathered around, except for Frankie who left to get them all drinks, and clasped their hands excitedly.
"Who's going first?" Tanya grinned like a child.
"For?" Winona said.
"Karaoke, silly." She glanced toward the stage. "Once one person goes first, it doesn't stop for the rest of the night."
Frankie interrupted by strolling over, arms outstretched with drinks in her hands.
"Scotch for you two," she muttered, handing the carefully held drinks to the girls, "and tequila for Winona."
"You're a good listener," she complimented, holding up the drink. It was an appealing pink concoction, likely mixed with some sort of lemonade.
Frankie grinned and sat down. "Did you guys see the look on Negan's face?"
Sherry nodded, peeking over her shoulder for half a second. "He was pissed, wasn't he?" Winona and Negan were in opposite corners of the room, yet the clouds of undulating smoke around him didn't obliterate her view. He was leaned back in his seat, chin up with his fingers picking at his rough beard. He muttered words she couldn't make out to the men beside him but was ultimately disinterested, his gaze landing upon her. He tilted forward and winked before she could break her stare.
"There's no way he can stay pissed at that," Frankie complimented, eyeing her although her lower half was covered by the table, "he likes it. If anything, he might just ask you to be his wife again."
"Maybe you'll consider it," Sherry said with a hopeful look.
Giggling into her glass, Winona shook her head. "Not gonna happen."
"Fair enough," she responded, her smile faltering slightly, "I wouldn't give up the teacher position either. It's a pretty big job. You're lucky you got it, you know, Negan's not usually the one that assigns jobs."
"I guess he didn't trust anyone else with me after I tried to steal his stuff. Sorry about that, by the way." She wasn't, really. She was only sorry that she'd been caught. She tried not to think about her poor grandma wondering where she was. She'd be back soon enough, and moping over it wasn't going to do her any good.
"Hey, Winona? That guy is staring at you."
She followed Sherry's line of vision. Noah was leaned against the door, rubbing stiffly at his neck. He was smiling at her, only a corner of his lip upturned as he raised his hand into a wave.
"He's cute," Tanya commented. Winona found herself nodding at that.
"Excuse me for a second." There was a series of noises at Winona stood, brushing down her tight fitting dress, and left the table. She sauntered over to the man, hand clawing at her wrist as she stood before him. He was donned in usual attire: a jean jacket resembling her own, only darker with unnatural rips and black slacks reaching his torn shoes. She assumed he didn't have many points left over after spending it all on insulin for his child.
"I'm afraid to ask," he said, his eyes landing upon her ill-suited clothing. He had a slight grimace, although not very noticeable. When he noticed her meek smile, his face softened. "Shit, I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
"I'm not his wife. Although, I have made friends with them, and they're pretty great. I have a dress now." She smiled wide and lifted her arms, showcasing her new clothing, and spun in a circle.
His deep chuckle rumbled as he checked her out. "You look beautiful."
"You don't look too bad yourself. Where's Sara?"
"She's with Judie. Usually I'd feel bad but she loves babysitting her. Means I can have a break, too. Where's the alcohol?"
"Good question," she said with a chuckle, "It's next to those chain smokers over there." She nodded to Negan's table.
Noah waved his hand in front of his nose and winked, passing her to make his way to the table. She followed right behind him, eyes on the ground and her clinking heels. She didn't have to look up to know Negan's eyes were on her.
"So, you gonna break the ice, here?" She asked. "Sing us something?" She motioned to the stage and Noah made a face.
"Yeah, that's not happening." He poured himself a glass of whiskey. "I'll sit back and watch whatever you've got in store for us."
"Then I'll be sittin' back with you," she said, bumping into his shoulder.
"Damn. I was really looking forward to it."
His grin was nice, a row of perfectly straight white teeth and a mesmerizing smile to adorn it. It was genuine, as well, and she liked genuine.
"Noah!" A male voice hollered. "Thought you died or something, man. You ain't ever late, c'mon, have a damn smoke." A drunk man with disheveled blonde hair stumbled from his chair in Negan's circle and slung his arm around the man, holding the cigarette to his sealed lips.
"No thanks man, I'm good." Noah laughed. They were clearly good friends, but the guy extremely inebriated. His gaze landed on her and his smile widened as he took his arm from Noah and slung it around her.
"How 'bout you, baby?" He held the cigarette up, and tentatively she took it. With one puff, she gave it back to him, enjoying the larger than life grin that spread across his face like a child on Christmas morning. He might have been slightly annoying, but he was harmless. She could tell by the way Noah was smiling.
She caught a glimpse of Negan, his lips set in a thin line and his eyes narrowed. She couldn't tell if he was vexed with her smoking or the man with his arm slung around her, but either way, he was killing the mood.
"Well, I better get back to my table."
"No, no, no. Take a seat sweetheart. What's your name?"
He held out a hand and she took it. "Winona."
"Winona." He licked his lips. "Sweet. You'r-" He didn't get the rest of his sentence out before his gaze landed on her dress, and his lips smacked shut. Even his smile faltered. In his drunken state, he knew what was good for him when he realized she might be one of Negan's. "Shit..." he mumbled, glancing at Negan who was burning holes into the back of his head. "I'm... I'm sorry. Damn. Didn't know you were spoken for."
She was about to open her lips to protest, but a shrill noise sounded through the small room causing everybody to grimace and cover their ears. Every head turned toward the front stage where Frankie stood, hands on her hips and the microphone at her lips. Her smile was large, but it was an obvious drunk smile, and although not completely wasted she clearly had enough liquid courage to get herself on stage.
"You all know Sherry and I. We'll be starting off the night with..." she clapped her hands on her knees as a drum roll, but nobody was amused, except for Winona who covered her cherry red face, "Dancing Queen! I better see you all off your asses, dancing, romancing, or I'll have to come down there myself. Hit it!"
"This can't be real," Winona leaned over, giggling into Noah's ear. He laughed like she hadn't heard him laugh before, and wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her to the middle of the floor.
"It's real, baby." He held out his hand as the music started. "And now you're gonna show me what you've got."
"It's not much," she said with a shrug, gently swaying her hips to the uplifting beat.
"Is that right?"
"Mhm."
Once Sherry's and Frankie's voices filled the room, she moved her hips and raised her arms, dancing to the beat of the music. She was right, it wasn't much, but it was graceful and smooth. The song didn't last very long, seeming to only last a minute but it could have been the alcohol surging through her system as she closed her eyes and moved to the rhythm. It had been a long time since she danced so carefree.
"Damn, that's a little more than not much," Noah said with a grin.
"You think?" She raised a brow, still swaying but gently as Sherry and Frankie attempted to pull another girl up onto the stage. She was short with heavy makeup, but cute, and shy-seeming as she fiddled with her hands.
Noah's eyes flashed with delight as he held his glass up to her lips. She stepped forward as to accept the offer, and he tilted the cup, the bitter liquid spilling into her mouth. The taste was acrid but she swallowed her distaste and almost yelled out when an old eighties tune began to ring through the room, it's mellifluous and alluring melody prompting her to move again.
"Hell yeah!" There was a shout over the loud music, and the drunken man came stumbling over to Noah. "Dance with me."
"I'm not-no."
The man grabbed him by his shoulders and dragged him off before he could protest anymore. It was obviously an older song, but the girl's voice brought a new tone to it, even more seductive than the original, and people were already beginning to group in the center of the room. I want to know what love is, by foreigner. One of her father's favorites.
She turned around and poured herself a shot of tequila. Scrunching her face, she closed her eyes and let the soft tune move her body. If she kept up the drinking she'd be on stage herself, and sober Winona knew that wasn't a good idea.
"I love that dress on you," a low voice came from behind her, followed by an arm wrapping around her stomach. He was so close to her ear she could feel his hot breath and grin pressed against her cheek. "I knew it would look fucking good. Didn't know it'd look that good, though."
"Mmm," she hummed, the buzzing in her head drawing her to the body behind her, though she was smart enough to keep her senses, "what do you want, Negan?"
"You, for starters." He whipped her around so quickly she thought she'd have fallen from the way her head swirled. "Dance with me."
"I didn't think you could dance," she muttered, though she was already leaning her head on his shoulder.
"I didn't think you could dance either." His arm wrapped comfortingly around her back and cupped her waist, his other hand resting barely on the back of her leg. "Boy, was I fucking wrong. You know you're not supposed to be wearing that, right?"
"What, this old thing?" She glanced down at the dress. "I thought you just loved it on me."
"Marry me and you can wear it all you want."
She smiled and took his hand, spinning in a circle. She sort of wished she had one of the flowing bottoms that would twirl beneath her. "Marry you? You could at least take me to dinner first."
It was the first time Negan genuinely laughed that night, his head thrown back and his eyes crinkling. His grip only tightened as he pulled her closer to his body so that they were pressed chest to chest.
"You're a fucking tease." His lips were back to her ears. "You see the way that guy reacted when he saw that fucking dress? Serves him fucking right."
"Why's that?"
"He was hammered as fuck and didn't know you. He didn't have a right to touch you like that."
"Says you," she mumbled, playful, "pulling me onto the dance floor like this."
"It's different. You actually fucking like me."
She moaned and reached for her drink, pulling it to her lips. "I didn't know you were a comedian."
He took in a sharp breath of air and pressed his hand to his chest. "Harsh. Mmm, have I told you how fucking good you look tonight?"
"Thank your wives."
"Oh, I fucking will, doll."
"I don't think they'd appreciate this very much," she said, but kept her head pressed against his chest because it was oddly comforting. The leather was warm and smelt of smoke.
"What's that?"
"Dancing with me. They might begin to think you have a thing for me."
He licked his lips and looked her up and down. She'd give anything to know his exact thoughts. "Why do you think they dressed you up like that? They want you to be a wife just as fucking bad as I do."
"You know, I'm just not digging the whole polygamy thing. I'm a one man type of girl."
Negan's grin twitched and then dwindled slightly as he swept his gaze over the room. "You know what?"
"What?"
His smile turned lascivious, eyes dancing with pleasure and menace. "I could make sure no guy fucking touches you. Not while you're here." His laugh was deep and desperate, and it chilled her spine. "But I don't think I have to fucking do that. No... sweetheart, I'll have you wrapped around my fucking finger in no time. God knows you've got me wrapped around yours."
"You're crazy," she responded to his daft statement with a roll of her eyes, although he couldn't see because her cheek was pressed against his chest.
"Crazy for you."
She snorted and shook her head. Her focus was mainly on the music, the dulcet voice of the mousy girl that was singing, the riveting tune than rang throughout the room. She truly did love the song. It reminded her of home. Home before the apocalypse.
"Come to my room," he mumbled.
"In your dreams," she retorted.
She could almost feel his grin above her. "For a drink. Just you and me. I wanna give you something, it'll only take a minute."
"A minute? Is that how long you last?"
She pulled away from his chest and smiled playfully at him. He lowered his brows and tugged her tightly against his body.
"You have no fucking idea." He pressed a kiss to her jaw, then more toward her chin but she pulled away before he could reach her lips. It threw her off, how much a tiny kiss on her cheek could affect her.
"Fine, but keep your hands to yourself."
He held them up, a sly grin creeping onto his cheeks.
This couldn't be good.