Naughty New Year

“What are you doing?” I quickly follow behind her, confused by her acceptance.

“Maggie, you can’t go your whole life finding something wrong with every opportunity,” she smirks before stepping in front of me to climb the steps to their booth.

I’m lost for words, despite my deep desire to set her straight. I don’t find something wrong with every opportunity; it just so happens that this guy can’t dress. It’s not my fault he thinks black tie means dotted bow tie, and suspenders are more appealing than a belt.

She makes the introductions, “I’m Beth, this is Maggie,” as we step into what feels like a Lion’s den. Men of all shapes and sizes eye us like fresh meat while we make our way into their crowded section, at least a dozen sets of eyes watching our every move.

“It’s so sexy having so many guys watching us,” Beth sighs before biting her lip as she sits on the red leather sofa. Her eyes are wide with excitement when I settle in beside her.

“No, I feel like lunch.” I roll my eyes, glancing up at the men still gawking.

“It’s sexy knowing we’re wanted by more men than we can count. I’d take at least two of them home with me,” she smiles, winking at one particular admirer who seems a bit more eager than the rest.

“You would not take more than one guy home, Beth!” I sneer, giggling at her absurdity.

“There are some things even best friends don’t know about each other.” She glances over at me before curling her index finger, waving over the tall, dark hunk with a bold eye.

Watching the two flirt, my thoughts struggle to decipher just how serious she was about taking more than one guy home. Having never lived with Beth, I’m only privy to the details she chooses to impart. Now, I’m wondering how wild her nights get in the beautiful Melrose townhouse.

“Do you want a drink?” a handsome man asks, disturbing my thoughts.

“Umm, sure.” I hesitate, trying to live in the moment like Beth.

“What?” he yells over the blaring music, leaning over so that his mouth is so close to my shoulder. I wince, jerking back to reclaim my space.

“Yes, that’s fine. Vodka and cranberry,” I order from a safe distance.

The tall and muscular man laughs before retreating into the party as I sit alone on the sofa. The party is over the top, with people crowding the dance floor, which is a rarity in Hollywood. People don’t dance in LA; instead they exchange business cards with headshots and name drop celebrities as casually as possible.

A party with people truly enjoying themselves is a rarity, so I take an extra moment to r

elax and people watch – appreciating the freedom that only the eve of a new year can bring. Everyone seems to be ridding themselves of the year, just like me. In my mind, I repeat that this is the start of a new year, and watch as bodies grind on each other in rhythm to the bass line.

The man returns. “Here you go,” he says, extending a pink drink with his long fingers wrapped around the glass.

“Thanks,” I smile, trying my best to loosen up as he sits beside me.

“So, what’s your name?” he yells, taking a swig of his own drink. He seems to have opted for whiskey, the amber-colored liquid swirling around his tumbler as he looks over my body with a hungry gaze.

“Maggie!” I loudly respond, hoping he can hear me over the large speakers only feet from the sofa.

“Cool! Are you from LA?’ He scoots closer to me, and I feel my thighs begin to overheat.

Without consciously making a decision, my body slides back, recreating the space between us. While I try to be as subtle as possible, I can see the acknowledgement on his face when his eyebrows rise in shock.

“Kinda. . .” I answer, but I can tell he’s only half listening.

“Okay, well –” he begins before a busty woman leans down, her breasts threatening to fall from her strappy dress at any second.

“You look bored, let’s party,” she smirks, glancing over to look at me without shame.

“Yeah, this party’s dead,” he grins back, reaching up to grip her hips before pulling her into his lap.

“Ahh! What are you doing?” she squeals in a tone that lets you know she’s not surprised or against anything he’s doing.

Instead of answering, he dips her back so that her long hair falls into my lap, before taking her mouth with a vengeance, kissing her so deeply his jaws cave in as he suctions his mouth.

“You’re like the worst party friend,” Beth growls in my ear as I struggle to turn away from the hot make-out session to the right of me.