Find Me Alastar

Philip starts to ramble on about Canada. He’s really very tipsy and seems to be repeating himself over and over again. I want to escape, but Brielle seems to be having the most interesting conversation of her life. Ugh!

I look back over to the blue Smirnoff area in search of something interesting to look at and I frown. Holy shit! It’s him—the guy from the shop.

Mr. Twinkle.

He’s sitting, talking to two men and three women, and he throws his head back to laugh out loud at something one of the women just said. I watch him as everyone else in the club seems to disappear. He’s wearing a tight fitting black V-neck jumper and blue jeans. His dark, wavy hair is just long enough to be tucked behind one ear. He’s a damn fine specimen, but why did he have to be such an arrogant ass?

He lifts his drink to his lips and smiles into it as someone says something, and he says something and the whole group burst out laughing. What’s he saying?

“Have you ever had an orgy?”

“Huh?” I frown as my eyes flicker back to the imbecile in front of me who winks like the devil himself. Oh God, just sod off. “No,” I reply, deadpan. I really need to get rid of this fool.

“But, you always wanted to right?” he asks loudly.

Brielle overhears what he says and turns her nose up at me and I subtly shake my head in disgust. For Pete’s sake, now he’s just grossing me out. I literally cannot think of anything worse than being banged by him and his mates.

Twenty minutes later, when I finally get a break from gross boy, my eyes travel back to who I really want to look at, sitting on the lounger like he’s my missing magnet piece. Star. His name sounds exotic… a bit like him. My memory goes back to the shop and the sound of his deeper than deep accented voice. I can’t say I have ever noticed a man’s voice before as being something I found attractive, but his voice was like a calling card to seduction hell. The others in his group have now left and Star is talking to a girl in a tight black dress. He’s sitting forward in his chair and she is seated in front of him on a stool. I can tell by her body language she is totally into him, and I can tell by his body language he is a confident bastard who is probably into her. I look away, annoyed with myself. He would be a love them for one night and leave them type of guy. I’m not that kind of girl. I like to think I am, but the reality is I’ve never had a one-night stand, although the thought of it is hot and something very high on my bucket list. I’m not sure I could ever actually go through with it, though. My heart is way bigger than my brain. Mr. Dickhead keeps talking about everything Canada related, but I can’t pry my eyes away from Mr. Star in the corner, and for ten minutes I watch him without being noticed. He turns as he tips his drink back to drain it, and his eyes meet mine in a flash. He raises a brow sarcastically at me.

Fuck.

I snap out of it, pulling my stare away from him. Shit! Oh, man. Busted.

“W-wh… what… w-where did you say you are going after this?” I ask the gangbanger nervously, trying to make myself appear interested all of a sudden.

“France. We go tomorrow.” He smiles at my sudden interest in his babbling. “Tonight is our last night here.” He winks and I have to hide my horror. He can’t really think he is in with a chance here, can he?

I swear I can feel the heat of someone’s stare on the back of my neck. Is Twinkle looking at me? I glance back and see that he is sitting relaxed in his chair glaring at me. I nervously snap my gaze away… again. Oh, great, he’s still pissed about the ring. What an idiot! It’s my ring, how dare he? I hold my hand out and gaze lovingly at my new adornment. I’m kind of glad he tried to outbid me to be honest. I know I would have regretted not getting it in the future.

“I… I’m getting another drink,” I stammer as I walk toward the bar. I can’t listen to the Canada guy for one minute more.

“Hey, baby,” The cute bar guy purrs.

I look at him deadpan. “If you are trying to turn me off, calling me baby will do it,” I reply dryly.

“Okay. Chill, pretty lady. I got plans for us.”

Oh God, seriously, is this international dodgy men month? I have never met so many fucktards in one week of my life. I slowly get mine and Brielle’s drinks, then return to our spot. Thankfully, she has had enough of the boys and is ready for some real fun. I glance back to the lounge where Mr. Star was sitting, but now he’s gone.

Hmm.



* * *



The two girls join us and we all start talking, but I find myself, once again, detached from the conversation, I’m too busy scanning the club. Where did he go? Did he leave or is he dancing with that girl?

“Who are you looking for?” Brielle asks.

“That guy is here.”

She frowns in question. “What guy?”

“Jewelry shop jerk.” “Oh, shit.” Her eyes widen. “Did he see you?”

“Yes, and he looked away as if he didn’t know me.”

She frowns.

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