Authors Note: Yay, chapter two! Again, please be aware that strong language and sexual content will be included - R18+ readers only - You've been told.
"I've arrived bitches!! The party can officially start now!!" screamed Abigail, her tight little dress riding up her legs as she quite literally flew through the door. Sam and I chuckle, knowing Abi's need to be the life of the party knows no bounds.
"Abi, right on time love, you need to help me knock some sense into Emerson again" Sam is quick to jump back to our previous topic. I should have known he wouldn't let it go that easy. "Sam, can't we just have a night out without killing the buzz with a lecture?" I plead. I'm not going to lie, I know once Abigail gets caught up, the tide is definitely going to turn on me.
Abigail looks at Sam, then me, then back at Sam and lifts an eyebrow. I swear this woman can read us like a book, it's only a matter of time, just wait for it.... here it comes.... "Em, you didn't!!" and there it is. She's now intensely looking at me with those piercing blue eyes, "Tell me you haven't been back to see that good for nothing piece of shit" she exclaimed. Oh crap, how am I going to talk my way out of this one. I anxiously look down at my feet, my hands nervously pull at my baggy sweater to keep them busy. "Abi....." I start, but honestly, I know they're both right so I have no idea how to respond. 'Honey, we love you, you know that, but you always feel like shit after you see him" Sam tries to tone down the conversation. "Nah, fuck that Sam, you know it's time for some tough love" spat Abigail, "he doesn't just leave her feeling like shit, he leaves her feeling worthless"
"I'm sorry guys, I know I shouldn't see him, it's just so...um it's so .... well it's easy" I mutter, aware my shift in mood this week is related to my late-night bootie call with the devil himself, just five days ago. My eye's start to glaze over as I feel flooded with memories of the past two years, and all the events that transpired. My face drops to the floor again, trying to hide the obvious emotions I'm fighting.
"Shit hun, I'm sorry too" Abi's sweet voice sung out, wrapping me in her arms, a sudden realisation of the effect her harsh words have on me. This, right here is why I could never survive without Abi and Sam. They're the voice of reason on a bad day, they're the pillars of strength when I can't hold myself up, and most importantly, they the glue that holds me together after everything else leaves me felling broken. She leans back, her thumbs wiping away my tears before grabbing both my shoulders and looks me up and down.
"It looks like it's a good thing I'm early too hun, cause you're a disaster" and with a cheeky wink, Abi has us all giggling like a group of school girls perving on the senior male athletes in the changing rooms. Before you ask, yes, we used to do that too.
Ducking into my bedroom, I take a long hard look at my reflection, agreeing with Abigail's earlier assessment. My toned, tiny frame is currently drowning in my favourite oversized sweater which drapes off the shoulder, and my old baggy track pants. My attire perfect for cosying up on the couch with the latest novel and a strong cuppa coffee, but tonight, we are heading out on the town. The nightlife in Toronto can be incredible, especially if you know the best spots to hit! My eyes stare at my long dark brown hair, currently hanging lifelessly down my back, finishing just above my bum. I may have neglected to wash it for the past few days, leaving it lack lustre and knotted to all buggery. This won't do.
"Guys, I'm going to jump through the shower" I called out, stripping down as I make a beeline straight for the en suite off my bedroom.
"Good, cause you stink" chimed Abi, before another fit of giggles.
Something tells me she's started the party already. I smile and shake my head, as I step into the enormous tiled shower and instantly relish in the heat of the water pounding down from the overhead faucet. Closing my eyes and raising my chin high, the steaming hot water cascades down over my face, a cleansing ritual for my heavy soul. I try to ignore the nagging bad feelings, now stirred due to the conversation I've just had with the dynamic duo I call my friends. They were right, of course they were. Casey and I were done, and we needed to be, I had to suck it up and sever all ties before I let the venom seep too far under my skin too ever fully recover. As I lather up my thick hair, I force myself to shake off the negative, and like a shifting of the tides I make a decision, tonight is my night!
I slowly begin to concoct a plan, a smug little smile creeping on my face. I finish my shower in record time eager to get onto the next part of my plan, presentation is everything tonight. I secure my towel around me while fishing through my basin cabinet, pulling out the hairdryer and straighteners. My grand plan is to have the best night I can, and that starts with how great I want to look. Look good, feel good.
I've always taking great pride in my hair however styling is no easy feat. Luckily, I'm up for the challenge. It takes me a full 45 minutes but immerse the bathroom feeling amazing, having transformed my straight hair into long loose luscious curls, cascading in a half up, half down whilst leaving just enough hair out to frame my face. Highlighting my high cheekbones with just enough bronzer to enhance my natural structure, I stick with a natural looking eyeshadow but finish my look with a striking matte plum lipstick.
I make my way over to my large walk in wardrobe, when I catch a glimpse of an outfit laid out on the bed. 'Thank you Abi' I smile to myself, she may be loud, but my girl's got taste. She could probably style me in a brown paper bag and still make me look cute.
She's carefully placed a fitted strapless pinstripe dress on the bed, adorned with intricate lace buttons, paired with a wide maroon leather belt and my Black Louboutin Ankle Boots, my favourite boots 'ever' I might add. After slipping into a cute red strapless bra and matching G string, I make short work of the buttons on my dress, give myself a final once over in my full-length mirror before heading back to the living room to join the party, a satisfied smile on my face.
"Hot dam Emerson. You look good enough to eat" booms Sam, a cheeky look in his eyes. God, I love that man, Jeremy is one lucky son of a bitch.
I hold out my arms and do a slow turn, being sure to swing a little extra in the hips for good measure. Pausing for dramatic effect, and glancing back over my shoulder at them, and finishing with an elaborate butt wiggle.
"You like?" I wink at them.
"We love!!!!!!" Abi screams, "now drink!"
Taking the champagne flute from her, we raise our glasses in toast.
"To us" we cheer in unison. The toast has been the same since the moment we could drink, never for love, never for best wishes, just to us. The three of us firm believers in staying true to who we were, so our toast was a secret reminder to each other - we are our own number one's.
"So, ladies, let's make a plan. Where are we headed and in who's bed will we be sleeping in tonight"
"Sam, we already know who's bed you will be in .... ooooh how about we head down to that new club on Main Street, I've heard it goes off" I suggest, dam what was the name, it'll come to me any minute now. My mind has a tendency to wander, so this change of subject mid-sentence is not unusual for me at all. Neither is my failure to remember a name!
"Well I had an idea...let's try something new" Abigail seems almost nervous, which is out of character, what is she up too? "I heard about this cute Irish bar just on the outskirts of town, called 'Clover' and they have a live band playing. I thought it could be fun, so what do you think, who's with me?"
"An Irish bar" I mull over the idea, meanwhile observing the excitement on Sam's face, he's always been a sucker for an accent so I'm sure he won't need any convincing, "alright, let's do this" I laugh, and chug the rest of my champagne, reaching for a top up. Not too ladylike I'm sure but if I'm going to kick my heels up tonight, I'll need a few more of these under my belt!
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Butterflies have over run my stomach, as our taxi arrives just outside Clover. I can't quite pinpoint why yet, but there's something about tonight that makes me nervously anxious. We slide out of the back seat, desperately trying to keep my legs close to one another, my already short dress has ridden up on the short journey.
"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit" exclaims Sam, gesturing towards to the magnificent sight Clover is. This may be a bar, but they have clearly spared no expense. We make our way up the stairs, and the bouncer at the door allows us to pass, I'm so glad we are no longer at an age where standing in line to be carded took up the better part of the night. I link an arm through both Sam and Abigail's, and we head straight to the bar. The night air was cool still, but inside Clover you would think it was summer, the majority of the patrons being scantily clad. I'm just glad I won't freeze my tits off since I'd forgotten to grab my jacket before we left.
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Making my way across the bar, my eyes making a pass over the crowds, searching for familiar faces, or interesting new ones, but not much is catching my eye. As I turn back to my friends, I can't help but smile, still at the bar ordering yet another round of O'Neal's, both shameless flirting with the same poor bartender, but striking out terribly. The O'Neal, a cocktail I was hesitant to try given one of the ingredients is Guinness, but have now rather grown to love - which is why this is round number five. My guess is the orange juice and champagne were enough to level out the thick, creaminess of the Guinness and making it my official drink of choice, well for tonight maybe. Abi spotting me just watching signals my return, our drinks lined up along the bar, next to a row of what I can only assume is more Paddy's girl shots, Irish tried and true whiskey. I'm sure I will regret this tomorrow, but for now I am having a blast, a with a quick glance over my shoulder to check the status of the soon to be live band, I bound back in a happy dance to join them in a race to empty our glasses first.
"Sam, you realise you have foam on your upper lip again right" giggles Abi, she must be starting to feel it now, she's usually the lightweight of the group!
"Don't worry Ab's" smirking at her Sam leans in, "I'll let you think that it's just foam" laughing hysterically, he stands tall again, I can't help but laugh with him.
"Ew, Sam no!" she squealed.
"I'm hitting the floor guys" I yelled above the noise, the bar has been filling up all night, and with a live violinist setting up on stage, I can only assume it'll only get crazier from here.
Darting among the crowds huddled around the room, I feel like I am being watched, but as yet I can't locate where from, so I do what I do best, I begin to sway my hips, and my moves become more sensual as I continue to move in the direction of the dance floor. I know Abigail and Sam aren't far behind, I can hear the murmur of their conversation, however I am in a zone, and as the performer starts to play a favourite of mine 'Roundtable Rival by Lindsey Stirling' I begin to bounce, sway and move my body as erotically as I can to such a quick paced song. The floor was packed, yet I felt like I had the entire room to myself, well me and my watcher... whom I've still not located. I can't help myself, as I come alive in a solo performance for one, my body waving and dipping, my eyes closing ever so slightly to rejoice in the moment.
I open my eyes, and gaze the room as the song comes to an end, and finally my eyes lock in on a target. There, leaning against the bar, not far from where we had previously stood, was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. He was ruggedly handsome, with dark brown hair, short but wavy and full bodied, facial hair kept tidy framed his strong jaw, his solid frame begging for me to run my hands down and over his tight chest. However, it was his eyes I couldn't pull away from. They were soulful, bright blue Iris sparkling
Determined not to make the first move, I've spent the entire night dancing to the incredible live cover band. Who knew I'd have this much fun!! Sam, Abi and I doing our own version of an Irish jig when they do a fantastic cover of 'I'll tell me ma - The Rumjacks' laughing and giggling through every horrendous move we try to recreate! All the while, my godlike stranger retains his post at the bar, his eyes lingering in my direction more often than away, not that I'm complaining.
Finally, the band seems to wrapping things up and move onto an old Irish ballad, 'An Dord Fienne - The Wolfe Tones'. I watch the band on stage, while swaying to the slower music, a sense of calm washing over me, when I feel large hands slide their way around my hips, and rest on my upper thighs, pressing me back against their firm body. I close my eyes as I inhale a deep breath, intoxicated by a strong, masculine scent, the kind that makes the hairs on your neck stand up to attention, alert, ready and wanting. I don't need to see him to know it's my mystery man from the bar. I continue to sway, sure to rub my ass against him, and happy to feel a pleasing response. He runs his face along my bare shoulder, the roughness of his beard being appeased by the softness of his lips as he gently kisses his way up my neck to my ear.
"Thanks for the show, A mhuirnín" (pronounced uh WUR-neen) his voice whispered in a deep, raspy thick Irish accent, sending a shiver up my spine.
He grabs my chin, turning my face to look over my shoulder up at him "I......." his lips cut me off with a quick, soft kiss, lingering briefly before whispering again in my ear, "The names Arden"
Then he was gone.