Georgia took me to a bar I've never been to before. It's much bigger, more crowded and so much wilder than rad. The blinding disco lights made it hard to stake out the place, but it was easy to spot the hot DJ standing in the stage. Party music is booming from the speakers, the people in the dance floor grinding to its beat.
"I can introduce you to her later if you'd like," Georgia shouts over the noise.
I shake my head. "I'm only here for a drink."
We take a seat in the bar, far from the blaring music. The bartender eyes me. "I haven't seen you around before."
"She's with me." Georgia butts in before I could respond.
"Oh, sorry, G. Didn't see you there." She smiles apologetically. "I'll get you the usual." She turns to me. "And what should I get for this beauty?"
"JD and—"
"Give her the B-52. Bacardi on top." Georgia interrupts.
Did I just hear her say Bacardi?
"You're serious about this one, huh." The bartender laughs. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Wait," Georgia turns to me, her blue eyes twinkling. "Make it ten. Don't bother with the usual." She tells the bartender.
I pull out a cigarette. "Do you mind?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I am," I tell her, but deep inside, the only things that are preventing me from breaking down is the cigarette in my hand and the thought that I'll forget about all of this once I'm wasted. "Are you single?" I ask, anxious to change the subject.
She smirks at my question. "Are you hitting on me?"
I shrug. "You're pretty."
Georgia laughs. "That's new. I don't remember being called pretty by anyone. Hot, most of the time, sometimes gorgeous, but never pretty." She smiles at me. "And to answer your question, yes, I'm very much single."
The bartender comes back with ten shots of a three-layer drink, two straws, and a lighter. After setting them down in front of us, she leaves with a smirk forming on her lips. I pull the ashtray closer to me.
"Let's play a game," Georgia starts. "For every right thing I guess about you, you take a shot and vice versa. If the guess is wrong, the one who guessed will take the shot. It's the easiest way to get drunk while getting to know each other."
I agree to play her game and allow her to go first. "You're part of the varsity team. Though I don't know what sport."
I raise an eyebrow at her. "How did you know?"
She grins. "I'm an expert at this game. Now, as per the rules, you have to take a shot." She puts one glass in front of me and lights up the shot. Flames dance atop the drink.
I take a hit from my cigarette. "Whoa, I'm supposed to drink it like that?"
Georgia gives me a funny look. "You use the straw. Is it your first time drinking this?"
I nod, and there it is again, the smirk and the dangerous glint in her eyes. My instincts are screaming trouble. I put the straw in and inhale the drink in one long sip. The first thing I tasted was Kahlua. It lingered in my mouth for a second before being followed by something I can't place, and then something that made a burning trail in my throat.
"The first layer is Kahlua, second is Baileys, and last is Bacardi," she explains. "You like it?"
"It's not as bad as I thought," I admit. "My turn. You've slept with that DJ from earlier."
"Crap. Is it that obvious?" Georgia did the same and gulped the shot in one sip. "You've been with more than five girls."
This time, it's my turn to smirk. "Nope. Take another shot."
Georgia's eyes widen. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"That's a common misconception about me," I tell her. "I may look like a player, but I've only ever been with one girl."
"You mean to tell me you've never slept with anyone other than that girl?" Georgia leans in, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
"Yup."
She takes that chance to come on to me. "Wanna do something about that?"
I ride along. "Wanna be my girlfriend, then?"
Her eyebrows rose. "You're cute, but I'll pass. I don't do commitment."
"Thought so. Well, I don't do casual sex, either." I take the last hit from my cigarette and crush it in the ashtray.
Georgia shakes her head in amusement, the corners of her mouth turning up. "You're interesting."
"Thanks. It's my turn now, isn't it? You thought of bringing me back to your place tonight." I guess.
"Fuck. At this rate, I'm the one who's going to end up drunk." Another shot goes down her throat.
Our little game continued until there was only a single glass left. I've had three shots, and Georgia's had six. Turns out I'm better than her in this game.
It's her turn to guess. She meets my eyes before saying, "You like Alex."
I feel a pang in my chest at the mention of her name—the image of them kissing pop up in my head. I gulp down the shot without saying a word. "I want more," I request as I slam the glass into the table. For a second, I thought I saw a look of pity cross Georgia's face.
"I can give you more." Someone speaks behind me. I turn and come face to face with the DJ from earlier. Looking closely, she's not as attractive as I thought. Georgia looks prettier than her. "Wanna play beer pong with us?"
"Sorry, I don't drink beer." I politely decline.
"No problem, you can drink anything you want."
Georgia touches my arm. "It will be fun." She assures.
The moment I stood up from my seat, my head started spinning. I hold onto Georgia. "Whoa." I blink. "Is it just me or are you guys spinning?"
Georgia snakes an arm around my waist for support. "Are you okay? If you can't drink anymore, I can still drive you home." She suggests.
"No, I can't let you drive. You've had a drink." How can she still stand straight despite having to drink more shots than me? It's so unfair. I free myself from her grip. "I'm fine. But I don't think I can come home tonight. Let me call Kris." I excuse myself and go outside where the noise isn't as loud.
"Hey." Kris greets.
"I'm going to text my mom I'm sleeping over at your place tonight. I'll tell her you got drunk and I'm too tired to go home after dropping you off."
I hear shuffling at the other end of the line. "What? Where are you? Why aren't you going home?"
"It's a long story," I tell her. I don't like telling stories over the phone.
"You have to tell me where you are and who you're with, dumbass. And where will you be sleeping?" She sounds like my mom right now.
"I'm with Georgia, the girl from the mall. You know, tall, sexy, redhead. I might be sleeping over at her place." I hear my voice getting slurry.
"You're a fucking idiot. I'm going to need an explanation on Monday, get that?"
"Thanks, Kris. You're the best. Love youuuuuu."
"You're drunk. Take care you piece of shit." She says before hanging up. I send the text I composed earlier to my mom and hoped she doesn't call.
Georgia was waiting just outside the door when I turned to go back inside. "You think I'm sexy?" She asks with a smug look on her face.
"Yes. I wouldn't be here with if I weren't interested in you." I blurt out. Stupid mouth.
I make my way past her and she follows close behind. "You shouldn't say things like that, you know. It might give me the wrong idea."
We reach the beer pong table where our opponents are waiting for us—DJ and another lady friend. I didn't bother to get their names that I'll probably forget after tonight.
The red cups are filled with water instead of beer. For every ball that goes in, we'll take a shot of the drink from earlier. I've taken a liking to it. I feel sweat trickle down my back. Since when did it become so hot? I take off my leather varsity jacket and hang it over my shoulder.
At first, it was fun. I sink some lucky shots, and the other team was barely getting any balls in. Georgia was pretty good too, considering the number of shots she's taken. Halfway through the game, I lit another cigarette. I've lost track of how many I've had tonight.
On the second half of the game, the other team's shots became more accurate, leading us to drink shots after shots. By the time we were done, my stomach was doing somersaults and I can barely stand straight.
At this point, I didn't know what was happening anymore. Georgia was whispering something in my ear, but I couldn't seem to hear her. I'm walking in an unstable ground, and my whole world is spinning.
Then suddenly I'm being dragged away from the crowd. I bump into a few people who gave me nasty glares. The next thing I know, I'm sitting inside a car.
"Sorry to bother you this late, Ivan. Please drive us home." Georgia tells the driver.
"No problem, ma'am. It's my job." The driver says, and we go on our way.
Georgia positions my head to rest on her shoulder. "You shouldn't have drunk too much."
I close my eyes and the next time I open it, we were already in her house. Georgia led me to what I assumed was her bedroom. She sat me in front of her dresser.
"Is it okay if I change your clothes? I don't like outside clothes on my bed."
"Wait." I hold up a finger. "Bathroom."
Alarm flashes through her features. She quickly ushers me to the bathroom where I hurl my guts out. Her hand traced soothing motions on my back as I hugged the toilet bowl.
The last time I've been this drunk was when Diane cheated on me for the first time. After that, I promised myself never to drink too much again but here I am—in the house of a girl I've known for a day—about to pass out from drunkenness. Good going, Alex.
I use her mouthwash after I'm done and go back to her room. "Here, drink this." She hands me a glass of water, and I gulp it down in one go.
I look around. Georgia's bedroom is tidy. A medium-sized bed sat in the middle. Next to it is a bedside drawer, a deck of cards resting on top of it. "Let's play cards."
"No. You need to get some rest," she insists. "Take off your clothes so you can lie down on the bed."
"Make me."
Something I couldn't place flashes in her eyes. She puts a finger under my chin, tilting my head upwards. Her face is inches from mine. "Listen, babe," her voice is dangerously sexy. "I'm trying my best to control myself. And you saying things like that is not helping."
I grab the back of her head and pull her even closer. "Listen, babe," I mimic. "I said I want to play cards. So we're going to fucking play cards."
I go over to the deck of cards and sit crossed-leg on the floor. Throwing up made me feel so much better. I'm feeling ready for a second round of drinks. I catch a glimpse of Georgia biting her lip before sitting in front of me. "One round of poker. Winner takes all."
"Let's make this more interesting," Georgia proposes. "Winner takes all of the loser's clothing off."
I nervously bite my lower lip. I can't say no to that after proposing to play the game. "Sure."
Before starting, Georgia brought out a cocktail mix she told me she had prepared beforehand.
I take a sip of her mix, and the taste was not something I was expecting. There's barely any trace of alcohol in it. "It tastes like lemonade," I note.
She gives me a sly smile. "That lemonade is going to have you in my bed, screaming my name in less than fifteen minutes."
I purse my lips. "We'll see about that."
Georgia wasn't lying about the lemonade. As I was dealing, a wave of nausea hit me. The cards in my hand started to get blurry, and my eyelids became heavier.
The following cards lay on the floor: Six of Hearts, Four of Spades, King of Hearts, Eight of Diamonds, and King of Clubs.
I peek at the cards I've been dealt with—Seven of Clubs and Five of Diamonds. The chances of Georgia winning this game just went down the drain.
Georgia has a slight smile on her lips before saying, "Show cards?"
We both show our cards at the same time. She has the King of Hearts and Five of Spades.
My lips find their way into a smirk. "I win."
"Dammit." Georgia throws her cards on the floor. She stands up, puts a hand to her waist. "What are you waiting for?" She raises an eyebrow at me.
I stand and close the distance between us, wobbling in the 3 feet I traveled. I start with her shorts, unbuttoning the denim and sliding the zipper open. I bend down between her slender legs and I tug her shorts down to her ankles.
A smirk forms on Georgia's lips. "You can stop if you can't handle my sexiness." She says cockily.
In reply, I stand up and I find the hem of her tank top. I tug it over her head in one swift move, revealing a black, laced lingerie that supported her two plump breasts.
I press my body against hers. My arms circle her bare waist. "I'm pretty sure you're dying to do the same to me."
"God, Alex." She sucks in a breath. I hear the frustration on her voice. "You're playing a very dangerous game."
I whisper next to her ear in a low voice. "I'm not playing."
The next thing I know, I'm lying on the bed with my back pressed against the futon. Georgia was on top of me, her eyes wild with desire. "That's it. I'm fucking done playing the good girl." She hisses.
I like teasing people. You wanna kiss me? Sure, I'll lean in really close to your face, then pull back just as fast. Wanna get under my pants? Sure, I'll turn you on, then leave you once you're on edge. I never really had the desire to fuck people. However, kisses are a different matter altogether.
Teasing Georgia was fun. But now, when the fun should already come to an end, I can't seem to stop. Maybe it's because she looks really hot straddling me. Or perhaps because I've had too much to drink that I just don't care. Whatever the case, I'm probably going to regret what I'm about to do, but I do it anyway.
I lift up a hand and grab Georgia by the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. "Let's be bad together," I whisper before crashing my lips against hers.
Then she was kissing me back. Hard. Her hands find their way inside my shirt, traveling every inch of my torso, feeling everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Georgia breaks the kiss and makes a trail of light feathery kisses down my jawline.
Her lips press to my neck and I moan into her ear. My body is on fire and she's the wind causing the flames to spread like wildfire. Everything feels so wrong yet so right as she whispers my name. "Alex," she says, her breathing ragged. "I want to feel you."
I manage to utter one word before losing all control over myself. "Don't—"