Playing Russian Roulette.

Hey Mr. DJ,
You gotta put a record on, yeah.
We're gonna bury this town tonight,
We're gonna dance tonight.
-Cobra Starship.

I tugged at the hem of my tube top, desperately wishing it would grow longer, maybe into a sweater to cover every part of my upper body. The short shirt exposed my navel; thanks to a strapless push up bra, my cleavage popped out of the top and my arms had no hope of being covered.

A shiver passed through me as a chilly breeze whooshed over the street we were walking on. I hugged my arms around myself, frowning. Why didn’t I wear a jacket to at least cover myself? Hypothermia was not worth getting a few looks from drunk guys at a club.

“You’re kidding!” one of the boys cried from behind me. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it involved a girl, and I was in no mood to know what it was about.

Every decent, moral fiber I had in me hated this. I looked like a hooker -- a bad one at that -- walking along the sidewalks of Dallas, Texas, flanked by a group of hysterical hot boys and an even hotter girl.

But, no-o-o-o. Devin swore the outfit made me look sexy and appealing, and forced me into the lack of fabric before I could argue.

Thanks to my dear best friend, I was freezing cold, and not even the boys were giving me saying how nice I looked. Not to mention every guy we passed on our trek to Purgatory just gave me a weird look before zeroing in on Miss Frosinos beside me.

Fuck, I really had a headache pounding at the base of my skull. It felt like I had been hit by a truck, and it was only getting worse.

“You would think, but I’m not!” This time, Bryan spoke. “She said it to my face. Walked right up to me, out of her group of hot friends, and out and said it. Dead serious. Dead… serious. And then, when I asked her what it meant, she said it again.”

I cringed. It was about a girl. Perfect.

Swallowing a surge of anger, I zoned out the boys’ conversation.

Guys will be all over you, Devin had said in a ditch attempt to convince me to put the whore shirt on. And that includes Max. Yeah, he went there. He sunk to the low level of dangling the boy I so badly wanted attention from in front of my face to put me in a stinking… slut shirt.

A part of me refused to believe him, though. I found it hard to fathom how clothing would alter how people saw me, how it would somehow make me more attractive if someone didn’t think I was pretty in the first place.

Besides, with Miss-Sexy-Harlequin-Cowgirl flanking me at all times, I had no possibility of getting a second glance by the club-goers. Gabrielle somehow managed to look even better than usual, and tonight she put me in mind of a sexy cowgirl from an eHarlequin romance… thus the nickname.

She had dressed in a mini skirt, white cowboy boots, and a black halter-top that opened in the front, just slightly revealing her tanned stomach, and swooped down in the back until it reached the bottom of her skirt.

She also straightened her hair, pulling the curls clean away, replacing them with shining, perfect straight blonde locks. And she had somehow covered up how sick she looked before with her makeup. I was curious as to how she did it, when I couldn’t even disguise my busted lip.

I straightened my hair as well. But, it did nothing. The lackluster tresses I called hair looked as unappealing and messy as usual, and my face still looked like that of Juliet Oakes. No amount of makeup or sexy clothes could change that.

Nothing could change how disgusting I looked, how terrible I would appear around the beautiful Texas girls, their perfect bodies putting mine to shame and their faces angelic and perfect like Gabrielle’s. Ha! I would be surprised if the bouncer even let me through the doors.

One thing I cannot fix about myself: self esteem. Sadly, that is here to stay whether I like it or not.

Good thing I wasn’t gunning for a cute stranger out of this excursion. In fact, that was the last thing I wanted. The only person I sought after was walking somewhere behind me, his voice echoing up and down the barely illuminated sidewalks as he shouted random comments to something Craig and Robert were talking about.

I snuck a quick peek over my shoulder at them, wrapping my arms around myself. Max and Craig were jostling each other back and forth in playful shoves. They looked like complete idiots, and were laughing in a maniacal manner.

I flickered my attention back to where I was walking. The sound of my electric blue, glittery pumps clicking against the cement provided a rhythmic beat, something to focus on to take my mind off the thoughts and pain churning in my head.

Truth be told, Max hadn’t commented on my outfit either. That was the main motive behind my mental breakdown and self pity and the damned headache that would not let up.

He was the only reason I even put it on without fighting. I thought maybe, just maybe, if Devin was right, he would give me that hungry look again, or say some endearing statement that would tide over my desperation for his attention.

I bit my bottom lip, bowing my head in shame. Was I really that raring for him? Obviously. I put on the stupid clothes for him, and now it felt like my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces because he ceased to notice, or even look at me since we left the venue.

Great. “Why did I come?” I muttered, pressing my fingers to my pounding temples.

Perhaps I could duck out before we made it to the club, walk back to the venue, and go to bed. It would save me the trouble of dealing with this… this… heartache!

And other things…

I still had no idea how to go about telling Max all was forgiven… and a few other things I managed to scrounge up from my mental question box, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to anymore.

I knew I needed to have another alone session with him, so I could get a few things off my chest.

The question was, could I get away from Gabrielle’s curious eyes long enough to do so? From the second we left the venue, she had been walking directly beside me. She occasionally said something and I pretended to me interested, but between those few times, she walked in sync with me, glancing repeatedly at me, as we paid attention to what the boys were saying.

It was like she felt obligated to be my babysitter. I didn’t need a babysitter! I was turning twenty two in July; I was a little too old.

Especially not Gabrielle of all people. She could barely watch herself, from what I gathered of the argument between her and Craig.

Well… I might oblige to a babysitter if Devin and Stefan asked, say, Max to watch me while we were out. Oh, hell. No whining for Juliet in that case. I would welcome it, even. God, how desperate am I?

Suddenly, arms slung themselves over my shoulders from behind and wound around my neck. The person smelled vaguely like cologne, so it wasn’t Max. Disappointment lodged itself in my throat as I tilted my head back to look at the culprit.

It was only Robert, his fluffy hair brushing my face as he slouched to reach around me. He smiled brightly.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, lifting an eyebrow high on my forehead.

“Nothing,” he answered. “What are you doing?”

Alright. Were we playing the ask stupid, philosophical questions game? Because I wasn’t in the mood to participate at the current moment.

“Walking.” I pried his arms off me and ducked to the side, moving to fall into step beside him. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. I decided not to fight it. If he wanted me to stay near him, then I wouldn’t fight.

Though I had no clue why he wanted to walk with me like a married couple. It was kind of weird, but the company -- and his nice, warm body heat -- felt nice with everything bothering me.

“You two are cute!” Gabrielle called from -- surprise, surprise -- my left side.

I glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. Please, please don’t tell me this was her idea. I don’t see how it could have been. Maybe Robert just wanted to hug his lovely friend, Julie? Something as innocent as that.

Gabrielle flashed a grin at me.

Now that she didn’t look like she was dying, I wanted to kill her all over again.

I rolled my eyes skyward, where stars were barely visible because of the city lights overpowering Dallas. The moon was still a little crescent hanging far to the left of the sky; it was gorgeous.

Gabrielle joined in on the hugging. She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned close. “Why do you look so sad?”

I glanced at her. Again, just like the day at the smoothie shop, she looked genuinely concerned and I caved. I had to tell her.

“I look like a troll,” I admitted.

Gabrielle gasped. The sound was loud, echoing around us. The boys stopped their female-like gossiping. I could feel everyone’s eyes turn to me, staring me down with curiosity, all except Gabrielle. She actually looked shocked and appalled, like I said something untruthful. I hadn’t!

“What’s wrong?” Craig asked, popping his head over Gabrielle’s left shoulder. He threw me a happy smile.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Gabrielle’s hand clamped down on my arm like a vice. Wiggling her fingers over her shoulder, she detached me from Robert’s grip and started dragging me away form the boys. I stumbled along behind her, tripping over my own pumps a good four times.

Gabrielle pulled me around a corner at the end of the sidewalk and backed me against the exterior of the building, still gripping my arm. I gently freed myself and cupped my hands behind my back out of her reach before meeting her gaze.

Her expression reeked of anger.

“What?” I tilted my head against the building. “Really. I didn’t do anything. I promise.”

“Yes, you did.” She planted her hands on her hips, topping the toe of her cowboy boot on the sidewalk. I felt like I was being scolded by a mother. “You called yourself a troll, Juliet. Do you understand how wrong you are, and how stupid that makes you.”

This didn’t make me feel any better. Bless her for trying…

“You do not look like a troll! What gave you that ludicrous idea?” She threw her head back, letting a single humorless laugh. “Please tell me you were kidding,” she added, leveling a stern look at me.

I shook my head slowly. I felt uncomfortable being rebuked by a woman; growing up, I only had my father to quarrel with. And most recently I had Devin and Stefan acting like my parents. This was so weird, and different. I wasn’t used to it.

Silently, I thanked her.

“I wasn’t kidding,” I replied, lowering my gaze to my feet. “I think I look like a troll. I’m just not pretty, Gabby, so you don’t have to lie. I’m fully aware of my flaws.”

“Oh my God. You cannot be serious!” She spread her arms out in front of me and flailed her hands around flailed wildly, almost as if she was trying to fly. “Look at you, Julies. Truly look at yourself. You’re a beautiful girl. Everyone thinks so!”

Now I was positive she was lying to make me feel better. It wasn’t helping, not in the tiniest bit. My heart still ached deep within my chest… and my migraine still pounded against my skull.

I pursed my lips. “No one thinks I’m pretty.”

“You’re wrong.” The sing-song tone she used pricked a nerve. My hands balled into fists against my back.

“Who then?” I snapped.

“M -- yah, people! People! What about the men who propose to you? And -- and Cr -- Craig.” Pain flickered in her eyes, but it left as quickly as it came. She regained her composure, straightening out the front of her shirt.

I looked at her. I had no rhyme or reason for the guys who asked me to marry them. I’m sure they had been dropped on their heads when they were infants, but Craig…?

“And… well, um… oh, fuck him.” Gabrielle grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Max loves you, Piper. No, wait. I don’t know if he has the depth to love -- he really, really likes you.”

…Continue. Curiosity got the best of me, and I peered around the corner of the building. The boys were well out of earshot. I whipped back to look at the girl opposite me. “Tell me more.”

“What else is there to tell? He likes you, but he’s too big a coward to say anything.”

Something in the deep confines of my brain clicked. That made sense. Yes, of course. He flirted with me all the time and was nice and treated me wonderfully because he liked me, but he wouldn’t say anything because he was… intimidated? Scared?

Ha. I say it again, it was flattering to cause the mighty Max Green to have feelings, something I wasn’t sure he ever had up until these passed few days.

These passed few days. Over the first eight days of Warped, I felt more confused than I ever had in my entire life. Max was playing me hot and cold; he liked me, but then he didn’t. He flirted with me, then he practically pushed me off his lap.

Now things settled into place like a puzzle. Max Green liked me. He had somewhat of a crush on me. But, like all stupid guys, he would not act on it.

Well, if he didn’t want to admit it, I would simply have to make him one way or another.

With a smirk, I twisted the fake engagement ring around on my finger.

X X X X

Bars, clubs, and restaurants of all types inhabited Dallas‘s Main Street. Multicolored lights lit up in windows; music bumped all around the street. Various brightly lit signs reading the names of the places stuck out above our heads, as well as awnings advertising restaurants.

Purgatory sat at the corner of Main and South Central Expressway. Even among buildings just like it, it still stuck out. Tall, monstrous, with a gray exterior that reminded me of some machinery factory. On the flat roof was a cylinder with the signature design painted on it.

The line out front was rather lengthy, with probably about twenty people in front of us. All the people stood in a jostling line along the sidewalk. The outcasts stood on the other side of the street, looking longingly at the ones lucky enough to get inside.

Our little group stepped to the back of the line. Gabrielle and I had our arms linked, and Max was close at our side. The others stood behind us, still chattering about the strangest things. The current issue? The woman in front of us had an ass shelf, whatever that meant.

I slipped my arm away from Gabrielle’s elbow and pressed my back against the cold window of the restaurant we stood adjacent to. The tinkling laughter of happy, small children floated from the ajar glass door.

Gabrielle peered around the large expanse of people, toward the small Valet Parking booth and the bouncer by the front door.

“I do not feel like waiting this long,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a cascade of shimmering blonde. The streetlights hit it in the right way, sending a ripple through the lock, making them look like they glittered.

I smoothed down my bangs. “We have to wait, Gab,” I pointed out. “These people want to get in, too.”

“No, we don’t.” Nudging Max out of the way, she took his place at the edge of the sidewalk, just slightly out of the decent, almost single-file line.

I don’t even want to know what she means. I popped one knee out, pressing the heel and bottom of my pump to the wall behind me. I stretched my back to an arc as I yawned and stretched my arms above my head, the hem of the tube top riding up even further.

Yeah, I could imagine how hooker reminiscent I looked. I wasn’t doing it for possible paying clients, though. Only Max.

I gazed up at him as he moved to stand beside me. He leaned onto the window as well, crossing his arms over his chest. Smiling, I hooked my arm on the inside of his elbow.

He didn’t look down at me, but I saw the glance he exchanged with a grinning Craig. And, whether they intended for me to see it or not, I also noted the thumbs up sign Robert flashed from his side. Smooth, guys.

My attention went back to Gabrielle. She had one leg stretched out further than the other and the palm of her hand was placed flat against her thigh. Her other hand was twirling a lock of her hair, her head tilted to the side, exposing the flesh of her neck.

I couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of her master plan to get us inside the club without waiting in line. But why the neck thing? We weren’t going into a nightclub ran by vampires or creatures of the night…

“Do you know what the hell she is doing?” Max asked, leaning down so I could only hear him.

“She’s trying to get the attention of the bouncer,” Craig answered. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shifted his weight to the balls of his heels. “So we can get in without waiting.”

I knew that. But it sounded weird coming out of someone’s mouth as an actual answer to Max’s question. She could not be serious abut this so-called move to gain attention. It was humorous.

“You look like an idiot,” I called. “Do you really think that’s going to make anyone look at you?”

Gabrielle arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh, you naïve little girl.” She jerked her head to the side, breaking the bitchy look she had been giving me, and waved quickly at someone.

Sure enough, rounding the corner came a mountain of a man wearing a shirt that read Purgatory. He was huge, towering above everyone else and having the body of a linebacker. His shoulders alone stretched to the size of Craig, Max, and half of Robert standing in a row.

The biceps on his arms, I noticed as he stepped in front of us, were the dimension of Gabrielle’s head. His nametag read Big. Convenient.

“Hi,” Gabrielle giggled. “Can I help you with something?”

“Are you waiting to get inside?” His voice matched his persona: huge and deep… with a rough, Southern accent.

Gabrielle nodded, the flirtatious smile on her lips never wavering even the slightest bit. Never, ever would I understand how she managed to do that, to actually get the attention of a mountain -- erm -- man without a hitch.

“Follow me, little lady.” Big glanced across at me. His eyes ran up and down my outfit and back up to my face. “You, too.”

I pulled on Max’s arm, not saying a word but hoping my message got through.

He nodded his head twice. “Your boyfriend, too.”

A zip of thrill shot from my head to my toes. A grin burst out on my face and I glanced up at Max, who was smiling just as widely.

Big turned around, moving two fingers in a gesture to trail behind him.

“Oh, wait, wait!” Gabrielle cried. Big twisted back around. She smiled sheepishly and jabbed her thumb at Robert, Bryan, and Craig. “They’re with us.”

“Then they can join you two ladies.” And he stalked back down the sidewalk.

We followed him with wide strides, Gabrielle flitting around like a fairy at the head of our group. I felt the angry looks of the other line inhabitants turn as we hurried passed them. Big stopped us at the door, handed us red, rubber bracelets with the Purgatory’s design on it, and pushed us inside.

I tugged on my bracelet and glanced around. We were only in a foyer, where a few people were wandering around, apparently deciding on what floor to go to. Beside us was an elevator. On the wall next to it, a piece of paper saying the names of the floors was taped.

Bryan pressed in the elevator button. “Where are we going first?” he questioned over his shoulder.

“Hell,” came Gabrielle’s quick response.

The elevator doors opened up with a loud, metallic screeching. It was empty, so I ducked inside, lugging Max behind me, and rested in the right corner of the confined space. I pressed my behind against the wall.

The others filed in after us, keeping to the walls to allow enough breathing room for each other. Gabrielle danced to the control panel and pressed the number one.

The doors slid closed again, and I peeked at Max through the curtain of hair falling into my line of vision. My heart leapt as I saw him staring down at me, his blue eyes watching me carefully.

I flipped my hair from my face to get a better look at him. With a smile, I patted the side of his face with the hand not clutching his arm. “What ’cha staring at?”

His lips curved into a half smile. As if obvious, he lifted my left hand from his arm and held it out. I shook my head, confused.

“The ring,” he explained, dropping my hand back to its original position. “You’re still wearing it. Why?”

Talk about being backed into a corner with no place to go. I still had it on because I liked the idea of having a fake marriage with Max. Could I tell him that? Of course not! I could imagine the look of fear on his face.

It made me seem obsessed or something… which I was beginning to border that thin line between in love with and obsessed with, but I felt the need to keep that to myself.

“I like it,” I finally said. Luckily, the elevator was filled with the loud voices of all our friends. No one but us could hear ours. “Do you want it back?”

“No, no.” His smile widened. “It looks good on you. Besides, if it keeps guys from flirting with you like douches, then I am all for it. Never take it off.”

I giggled, holding my hand out to look at the ring. Why does it have to look so fucking real? “Our fake engagement is sure to make some people jealous,” I whispered, not wanting the conversation to end.

“They’ll live.”

The elevator came to an abrupt halt, pitching me forward. I caught myself on Max’s arm and he laughed at me. My face flushed. Heat welled up in my cheeks and I lowered my head so no one could get a good look at my blush.

The doors opened and the level of Purgatory known as Hell came into view.

The picture on the website didn't do the place justice. It was even better in person, with bright yellow and red strobe lights flashing strange symbols along the concrete flooring. The dance floor was in the middle, directly across from the small hall leading inside.

Hordes of intoxicated men and women were already dancing around to Hypnotize by The Notorious B.I.G. as it bumped through the intercom system. How the hell do I know that?… Wow.

Bryan and Craig immediately zipped out to the dance floor, lurching themselves into the crowd and disappearing among the moving bodies. Max, Robert, Gabrielle, and I stepped out into the hallway in silence.

I shook my head. “I’m going to have to drink a little before I get involved in that.” I pointed at the dancers. Okay, maybe I would need a bit more than a little to drink.

“I’m with you, girl!” Gabrielle snatched my away from Max before I had time to know what was happening and yanked me down three stairs that lead into the main floor of Hell. She veered to the left, walking toward a well equipped bar.

I tossed a pensive look over my shoulder at Max. Right when things were getting good, right when I had Max in a position to talk to, Gabrielle found the need to drag me off to that bar and away from possibly my only chance to talk to him while he was sober.

Even though she had her back to me and couldn’t see it, I stuck out my tongue. It somewhat satiated my urge to bash her head in, but no more than by a minimal degree.

“How long did you say its been since you’ve gone out?” Gabrielle asked, slowing her gleeful trot and stepped next to me.

“A while.” I wrenched myself free what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “At least five months, why? Do you plan on getting me hammered or something?”

She raised her hands in the air. “Maybe, maybe not. It’s a huge possibility Stefan offered me twenty dollars to make you had a great time tonight.” There we go. That explained so many things. “And Devin gave me fifteen to make sure you received every ounce of Max’s attention.”

Devin just got bummed out of fifteen dollars. I would be sure to tell him that upon the return back to the RV; he would be thrilled to know Gabrielle had actually inhibited me from spending time with Max and stealing his focus.

I glanced back again. Robert and Max were advancing on us, thank fucking hell.

“So you--” I poked her in the arm with my index finger. “--have to make sure Max only focuses on me, huh?”

“Yes,” Gabrielle answered, sounding hesitant.

“Forget about it,” I snorted. “If he wants to pay attention to me, he will. If he doesn’t, I’ll just hook up with some random clubber.” I ignored the twinge of pain that gripped my heart as the words left my lips.

Hands down, the statement was the biggest lie I ever uttered, and Gabrielle saw right through it. She planted her hands on her hips and turned her entire body to face me. “Are you serious, Juliet?”

“No,” I whined. “I want him to admit that he lo -- likes me, Gabby. But how do I begin to make him admit something like that?”

“Wait.”

I pointed a blank look at her.

Patience was not my virtue. Never had been. I refused to wait a long amount of time for Max to step being a “coward” and tell me he had feelings for me. He should had already let me know; the reason why he continued to keep his silence was uncertain to me.

Could he be that… cowardly? Or scared of an actual commitment -- which he knew I wanted -- and not a simple fling with a whore? Yes, my superiority over his exes surely made him feel different and hesitant.

In the slurred words of Ronnie Joseph Radke: “Not everyone can handle someone like you, Juliet. You’re one of a kind.” Got that right, buddy.

“But I wouldn’t wait more than a month,” Gabrielle added. Didn’t plan on it. “Thank about it, girl, before you decide to waste your energy on a mess like Max.”

“He’s not a mess,” I muttered. “He’s amazing, and I… I--” I love him. I adored him. I wanted to marry him.

“Can we stop with the emotional gush and start drinking?” Gabrielle slid onto a stool at the bar, folding her arms over one another in front of her.

I situated myself in the curved seat beside her. I rested my elbows atop the concrete bar. One of the two bartenders, a young guy with wild, brown and white blonde hair, sauntered up to us, a towel tossed over his shoulder. He placed his hands on the bar-top and smiled nicely.

“Hello, girls. My name is Matthew, and I‘ll be at your command for your stay in Hell.” He did not sound like he was from Texas. His voice was happy, and it did hold a Southern accent, but a much more gentler one that that of the Texans all around us. The grin on his face consumed his features, making his brown eyes glitter.

I smiled back at him.

“What can I get for you girls?”

Clueless, I looked at Gabrielle. It really had been too long. I could think of only a few of my favorite mixed drinks.

“I’ll take an Absolutely Heaven,” Gabrielle said without hesitation.

“Ooh. Awesome taste in drinks.” Matthew pushed away from us and bopped about, gathering a glass and various bottles, singing along to the new song playing above our heads.

I sighed and rested my chin in the palm of my left hand. The cold metal of Max’s ring pressed into the skin of my cheek. An involuntary smile tugged at the sides of my mouth.

Gabrielle’s hand came down gently on my back. “Are you alright?”

I nodded. “I’m okay.” Why does everyone keep asking me that? “Thanks for asking though.”

Matthew plopped down a martini glass in front of Gabrielle and poured a splash of some dark liquid into it. I watched the originally clear drink turn a vibrant, tropical blue. It was beautiful.

Gabrielle clapped in glee. “Yes, my favorite!”

Matthew chuckled as he reached down below the bar and came back with a lemon wedge. He stuck it on the rim of the glass and slid it across to Gabrielle. “There you go.” He turned his attention to me. “What would you like?”

“I have no idea.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Have any recommendations?”

“I know exactly what you need.” Matthew grabbed a square glass from the shelf behind him and put it on the bar. He started pouring things from bottles into the glass, finally stopping with a splash of 7-Up soda. With a flourish, he scooted it closer to me. “That is called A Kiss Goodnight.”

My hand wrapped around the glass, the ring clinking against it. I raised it to my lips and tipped it back. I only let a small amount slip passed my tongue, but the liquor that did slick my taste buds was wonderful.

I gave Matthew a thumbs up as warmth spread through my bodies from the alcohol. I quickly took another sip. “This is amazing, thank you.”

Matthew leaned against the shelf holding the bottles and glasses and crossed his arms over his chest.

Rustling sounded by my ear, and Gabrielle burst into hysterical laughter. She had turned around in her seat, her glass in her hand, and was staring out in the direction of the dance floor. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she guffawed.

I twisted around to face the rest of the club. On the dance floor, there was a ruckus happening. Women and men stood with a wide girth around a four people. The foursome were dancing… dirty dancing, and almost moshing.

I craned my neck, trying to get a better look…

A familiar face flipped his mop of shoulder length, straight brown hair out of his eyes. With a loud gasp, I realized the boys were the group of dancers! Craig, Bryan, Max, and some strange girl that Bryan had obviously taken a liking to.

Robert stood by a low railing nearby, laughing.

I slumped against the bar, shaking my head. “They’re not even drunk yet,” I murmured, bringing my glass to my lips for the third time. I downed a few more sips before setting it down and glancing at Gabrielle. “Should we go dance with them or just… laugh at their stupidity?”

Gabrielle pressed her lips together, obviously thinking. She sat her drink beside mine and stood. “Neither. Let’s dance together.”

My mouth gaped. She couldn’t be serious! Of course, that would certainly get the attention of the boys. Two scantily clad girls grinding against each other… Ha. Max wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me.

I jumped off the stool. “Perfect idea, Gabby.” I wiggled my finger in a come-hither gesture and Gabrielle threw out a hand to grab my hand.

“Wait, wait!” Matthew waved his hands about, making us stop. “I have an even better idea! Get up on the bar and dance, like Coyote Ugly except not rehearsed. Girls do it all the time, and since I run the bar, I give you my full permission.”

Gabrielle didn’t even ask my opinion. Dragging me along, she hoisted herself up onto the concrete bar and stood to her full height. I quickly joined her, gripping her hand out of fear of falling and breaking my neck.

Matthew moved our drinks to a safer location as a new song -- Dangerous by Akon-- blared over the speakers.

Gabrielle grabbed my hands and started moving in time with the beat. I joined in and we moved our feet back and forth, getting a feel for the concrete bar top. Thankfully it was wide enough to have a good amount of foot room.

Gabrielle lifted my left arm in the air and I twirled once, catching on to what she wanted. She turned around and leaned into me, never once falling out of beat of the song. I laughed and lifted our hands above our heads, pressing myself closer to her and copying her movements.

Several guys cheered, throwing cat calls and wolf whistles our way. Then, I heard it, Bryan yelling, “Dude! That’s fucking Piper! Max, that’s Piper!”

I snuck a quick glimpse at them. Craig’s mouth was open; Bryan had his arm around the girl he had been dancing with, but his eyes were strictly on us. Robert was one of the people whistling, and Max had a hand over his mouth.

I grinned and gestured for them to come over.

Craig scrambled to the bar in record timing, nearly pushing over several people on his trek across the cement flooring.

“Come on up,” Gabrielle said, stepping away from me and holding out her hand. Craig took it and she helped him up onto the bar.

I gestured at Max this time. “Come on, Max!” I called. “Get up on the bar with me!”

He nodded slowly, his hand still over his mouth. But he didn’t move. He stood motionless. Bryan rolled his eyes and gave him a shove toward the bar.

I held out my hand. He took it when he stopped stumbling and pulled himself up beside me. He grabbed me immediately, taking my hips in his hands as I threw my arms around his neck and started moving in the sexiest way I could think of.

No doubt I looked like an idiot, but I didn’t care. All I could see was Max; the rest of the club barely existed. The song sounded distant and my stomach clenched.

Was I really dancing with Max on top of a bar in the middle of a club? It was hard to believe, even for me, and surely those around the me. Gabrielle was probably already calling Devin or Stefan to tell them what was happening.

Of course. If she wasn’t, I had to tell them when I got back. Had to, because this was quite possibly the best few minutes of my entire existence.

X X X X

I already made a complete fool of myself by dancing on the bar with Max and Gabrielle. So why was I purposely doing this, getting involved in this… game in front of a group of drooling boys? Because you’re drunk, you moron.”

Oh. Yeah, that would explain why I was straddling Gabrielle’s waist as she laid on her back on the bar with Bryan, Max, Craig, Robert, and complete strangers watching on in perverted delight.

I laughed despite myself. Maybe I wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

Matthew grinned from behind the bar. “Okay. Lick a spot on Gabrielle’s body.”

I had already decided. My head dove down and I ran my tongue slowly across the top of Gabrielle’s breast, leaving a perfect wet trail. Gabrielle giggle. When I pulled up, the boys’ mouth were hanging open, eyes wide and glinting.

Matthew sprinkled salt from a shaker onto the trail. He sat a shot glass filled with tequila on the bar and held out a lime wedge above Gabrielle’s mouth. “Open,” he ordered.

She obeyed, and he stuck it between her teeth.

“Okay!” he yelled. “Are you ready?”

I nodded. The boys screamed “yes!” like a bunch of losers, and Matthew lifted a hand in the air.

“Ready. Set. GO!”

I dove down again, devouring every bit of salt. I downed the shot, before connecting my mouth with Gabrielle’s. I lingered there longer than necessary, but only because the boys screamed in excitement.

Finally, using my tongue, I plucked the lime wedge from her mouth, sucked the juice, and dropped the empty shell into the palm of my hand.

Gabrielle whooped, propping herself up on her elbows to look at me. Max looked like he was about to pass out, and the others… well, let’s just say there was no blood in their heads whatsoever.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and moved off of Gabrielle. She swung herself off the bar and grinned, nudging Craig with her elbow.

“Next shot!” Wow, Matthew didn’t waste any time in between, did he? “I need a boy and a girl. Piper, you want to be the girl?”

“Sure.”

“Lay down and prop yourself up on your elbows,” Matthew instructed.

I flipped and stretched myself out along the bar, supporting myself with my elbows.

“Who wants to be the other volunteer for this?”

Max’s hand shot into the air. At this point, he was as buzzed as I was, if not more. His gaze moved up and down the expanse of my body, and a smile came to my face.

Matthew grabbed a bottle from the bottom shelf. It was filled to the brim with a thick, brown liquid that sloshed densely when he moved it.

“Straddle her waist.”

Max climbed on top of me, straddling my waist, his legs on either side of my hips. I felt his -- ahem -- crotch pressing against me, and my breath hitched in my throat. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have agreed to it. It was stupid of--

“--and you have to lick the liquor off her navel before it runs onto her clothing.”

What?! I looked frantically at Matthew. Anxiety struck in my chest. He had to lick what off of where? Max had to lick this goo off of my stomach?

Max nodded once. Matthew poured the liquor onto my navel in a slow, steady trickle. It was thick, like Bailey’s Irish Crème or Kahlua. The liquid slowly started slipping down my stomach, sending a weird sensation through me.

I clenched my hands into fists.

Max scooted himself further down until his head was hovering above the waistband of my jeans. He plunged forward and slipped his tongue along the trail of liquor.

I choked back a gasp. Every emotion imaginable laced my veins. Every part of my body tingled and my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands.

He licked it at the slowest viable pace. My emotions getting the better of me, I tilted my head back and caught my bottom lip between my teeth.

Yes, this was such a bad idea. This would only make it worse when Max didn’t admit he loved me. The pictures, the feelings, of the current moment would haunt me.

Blame it on alcohol induced hallucinations, but Max sat up once all the liquor was gone, tucking a section of hair behind my ear, and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

I can wait.