An hour passes in the blink of an eye, along with six shots and two Cosmos. I’m happy and enjoying the girls company immensely. Grace and Sheree are just like Harper, and we haven’t stopped laughing, so much my stomach aches.
“I’m going to head to the bathroom,” I tell the table as I stand from the booth.
“I’ll join you,” Rachel says as she follows me out.
We head towards the bathroom and now that I have stood my head is getting lighter with every step I take. Thank God there is no line for the toilets up here and Rachel and I just walk straight in.
Heading into a stall each, I undo my jeans and practically fall onto the toilet seat before I have them all the way down. My head feels heavy and I drop it down between my knees as my body sways from side to side.
Standing up and walking around has definitely sent all those drinks to my head, and I can’t help the goofy grin on my face at the fact that I’m drunk for the first time in years.
Finishing up, I stand from the toilet and right myself again before exiting the stall to the basins. Rachel is already there, washing her hands, and I look at her through heavy eyes. How can she be so bright and chirpy? She drank as much as I did.
“You all right, babe?” she asks as she looks at me in the mirror.
“I think I’m drunk,” I tell her, slurring my words.
“Yeah, babe, you are definitely drunk. Feels good, doesn’t it?” She laughs at me.
I can’t help the dopey smile which overtakes my face as I wash my hands. “It does.”
“Come on, pisshead.”
Following her out of the bathroom and back towards our booth, it’s empty. Rachel obviously notices the same as both our eyes go down over the railing to the dance floor below. I instantly spot Grace and Sheree’s bleach-blond heads and point to them, indicating their whereabouts to Rachel.
“Looks like it’s dance time,” Rachel says with a smirk on her face. She knows I’m not a huge dancer, but she fails to realise how drunk I really am.
“Sure is.” I smile smugly at her as I turn for the stairs.
I hold onto the railing and take each step one concentrated ledge at a time. I don’t think I even realised how drunk I was. Hearing Rachel’s laugh behind me, I decide dancing is a must to burn off some of this alcohol.
She grabs my hand and pulls me through the throng of people to Harper and the girls. As soon as we reach them we begin moving in time to the music together, Rachel still clutching my hand.
Seemingly satisfied I can stand on my own, she slowly releases me, and we all stand in a circle and begin moving with the crowd around us.
After twenty minutes of dancing I decide to grab us a few bottles of water. I mimic the drink motion and nod my head towards the bar.
The girls all nod in understanding and I slowly make my way to the bar, dodging and avoiding all the other people dancing. Some couples dancing so closely they are practically groping each other on the dance floor.
Luckily I find a small vacant spot between a guy and girl and push my way straight up to the bar, leaning my elbows on it and glancing around at my surroundings as I wait for the bartender to make his way down to me.
A warm hand grabs my forearm as I’m nodding my head to the music and daydreaming in my own little world. My eyes shoot to the stranger next to me, and the first thing I notice is his warm eyes. There is gentleness and sincerity staring back at me instead of the lust and creepiness I was expecting which is normally found in guys at bars.
His mouth is moving and I shake myself out of my daydream realising he is talking to me. I lean forward so he can talk in my ear. The music is so much louder down here than upstairs.
“What did you want to order?” he says as he gestures to the bartender who is waiting and watching me with annoyance written all over his face.
Shit. “Sorry, just two bottles of water please,” I tell him.
He gesture two fingers towards the bartender and mouths something to him. His understanding is obvious as he instantly grabs two bottles of water out of the fridge behind him. He throws them down on the bar and the stranger next to me lifts his beer to the bartender.
Holding out my money towards the stranger he shakes his head and leans in again.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me. What’s your name?”
“Brooke,” I tell him as I slide my money into my back pocket.
“Dan.” He holds out his hand for me to take, and he has a strong and confident shake. I think about Nate always saying guys with pansy-ass handshakes were pussies. Laughing, I come back to the moment and realise I’m still holding this stranger’s hand.
“Sorry.” I giggle as I quickly pull my hand away.