"It's called lust, slutbag. Trust me. Good old-fashioned lust is good for you every once in a while. It makes things interesting. Give me lust over love any day."
I debated asking her which one Taylor fit into. Was she in love or lust? I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. It was a double-edged sword. If her feelings for Taylor were based only on lust, then their relationship was superficial with no substance and would inevitably fizzle out, which had been the case with several of Olivia's relationships in the past. If that was the case, what did it mean I was feeling for Alec? Not that it should matter. How could I even consider being in love with someone I hadn't even had a full conversation with yet? This was just a means to the end of my virginity. Nothing more.
"Are you sure?" I asked as she fooled with my hair for a moment. Glancing in the mirror, I saw she had pulled some of the hair loose so it fell around my face, giving me a softer, sexier look.
"I'm positive." She opened her purse and pulled out a tube of lip gloss.
"I have lip gloss."
"This kind is special. It plumps up your lips. Trust me, guys can't resist it."
She slathered on a liberal amount. A pleasant heat followed by a burning sensation covered my lips. "What the hell, whore? My lips are on fire." I raised my hand to wipe them clean, but she stopped me.
"Don't be a baby. It's got cayenne pepper in it. Sometimes beauty hurts a little."
"You sound like a sick advertisement for some demented horror movie." Thankfully, some of the heat had dispersed and my lips no longer felt like they were melting off my face.
Olivia applied the lip gloss to herself before turning to me. "Let's go get you laid, my trampy whore."
"God help me," I mumbled as she led me from the bathroom toward the opposite side of the club where the lighting was much dimmer.
I leaned in close to speak over the thudding music. "What about the guys?"
"Taylor texted me. They got a booth."
After weaving through a sea of bodies gyrating on the dance floor, we came upon a row of booths tucked into a far corner where Taylor and Alec were sitting. My heart thumped wildly in my chest as we approached. At least Alec hadn't run for the hills. I could take that as a good sign. My hope was that everyone would let my embarrassing move slide and I wouldn't be forced to explain.
Taylor stood from the booth when we arrived, allowing us to slide in to join them. A fresh round of drinks sat on the table and as we got comfortable, a waitress arrived with a plate of appetizers.
"Wow, talk about good timing," Olivia said, snuggling close to Taylor.
Alec answered, winking at me. "It's all about who you know."
I crossed my legs under the table, willing my body to behave. If I was going to have any shot at even starting a relationship with Alec, I would have to learn how to handle the winking that turned my insides to mush. "Perks of the job, huh?" I asked.
"Most definitely." He slid his arm along the back of the booth where I was sitting, angling his body toward me so we could chat over the music. "So, Olivia tells me you wrote your first book when you were a freshman. That's pretty awesome."
These were normally the types of situations when I looked to Olivia to rescue me, but she and Taylor were wrapped up in their own little private world. Sink or swim. If I wanted Alec, I would have to jump into the deep end myself.
"Uh, yeah," I answered reaching for one of the glasses of water the hostess had brought out with the food. I took a quick sip to gather my jumbled thoughts. Come on, Nicole. Pull your head out of your ass. "It started as an assignment for my creative writing class. My professor asked for a ten thousand-word short story, but once I started writing, I couldn't shut the story up. Before I knew it, I had seventy thousand words written."
"That's seriously impressive. Would you judge me if I admitted I struggle with three thousand-word thesis papers?" His eyes lit up when he laughed, giving him a different dimension of charm.
"Not at all."
"What if I told you on one paper I resorted to lots of quotes and narrowed the margins slightly in order to hit the ten-page requirement?"
I laughed. "Been there, done that."
"Really? I thought writing came naturally to you."
"Oh, hell no. I love to write, but about something I'm passionate about. Ask me to write a ten-page microeconomics paper and you might as well be asking me to have my teeth pulled."
"That's funny. You're passionate about love stories, I guess?" He moved his hand from the booth behind me and began lightly stroking the back of my neck. Luckily I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, hiding the goosebumps that I felt covering my arms. His touch felt warm and inviting, tempting me to roll my head forward to give him more access. I resisted the urge, not wanting to embarrass myself more than I already had.
"I'm a sucker for romance," I answered.
"Me too." His arm continued forward past my neck before settling across my shoulders. He gently nudged me toward him. I took the hint, sliding along the booth until I was tucked against his body.