"I can't take it," Alex said.
Yeah, I did force her to go with me and the Dodgers to a club to celebrate going to the World Series. I know, clubs are super sketchy; you wait all week to get someone's drink spilled over you, the same song twice in an evening, waiting in line for an hour, ugh. And, yes, I know that neither Daniel nor Corbyn are legal. That's where shades and fake mustaches come in handy. Also, I just wanted an excuse to roll up in a Lamborghini.
"Come on, one dance?" I pleaded.
"No chance," she smirked. "I don't belong in this club."
"Please?"
"I don't even have the energy to smile for a selfie, Jo," she complained. "I'm feeling awkward as-"
I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the VIP section upstairs. "You're gonna enjoy this."
An hour later, Alex was sleeping on the couch on Corbyn's shoulder, shirt covered in beer that's not hers, wearing shades in the darkness. I'll admit it, she danced for a solid half hour, and it was pretty impressive.
"Save me," Alex mumbled as I picked her up, carrying her to the Uber waiting outside. "Just want to get out."
"We're going, baby," I whispered, kissing her forehead. "I don't belong in this club, either."
there's no explanation for this. love ya💖