“All my best nights have too,” I say, recalling a few of my more raucous club nights with Natalie in the past. There was one where we danced on a ledge, high above the crowd. We even filmed ourselves in a drunken selfie video that was supposed to be a photograph. We were all teeth and grins and eyes half-closed with drunkenness.
“See, Connie has more balls than all of you assholes put together.”
“She can have our shots then,” Holden grumbles. “You know, we only just got here. I don’t want to spend tomorrow nursing a monster hangover.”
“Better stick to two then,” Kane says.
The barman assembles the small glasses of clear liquid topped by a slice of lemon and a shaker of salt. We all lick the backs of our hands, sprinkle them with salt, and wait for everyone to be ready. My heart thuds faster with anticipation. I hate the taste and the burning sensation as the tequila trickles down to my stomach, but once it gets there, the warmth that spreads through me is intense and mind-numbing.
Two of these little glasses of fire, and there isn’t going to be a shred of doubt in my mind, and that’s exactly how I want to be.
As we finish our shots, sucking the lemon slices with screwed-up faces and pinched eyes, the barman waits. “That’s it,” Holden says, holding up his hand. “Can you put it on room two fifty-six?” The barman nods as I calculate exactly how close my room is to his. Ten doors down. That’s not too much distance to cover in a morning walk of shame.
“Time for dancing,” Kane says, his cheeks a little more flushed than they were before. Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the dance floor, where Natalie is shaking her thang.
“Yay…” she shouts, grabbing me into an exaggerated happy-hug. “This girl…she’s the best friend anyone could have. If it wasn’t for her…I don’t know what I’d be doing right now.”
I smile and take a theatrical bow, not because I’m enjoying taking all the credit for how great her life has turned out. That’s all down to Natalie. It’s just that I know she’ll love it, and she does, grabbing me for another cuddle. “You seem to have picked up a very sexy entourage,” she whispers in my ear. At least, I suspect she thinks that she’s whispering when in reality, she’s speaking at a volume that can be easily heard over the music.
“I have, haven’t I.”
“Banbury men are like sex gods,” she says.
“Yes, they are,” I agree, laughing at her drunkenness. My eyes meet Karter’s over Natalie’s shoulder, and he’s laughing too.
“You know, I can recommend them,” Natalie continues. “They’re amazing in bed, and they know how to treat a lady. I wouldn’t have married so many of them if they weren’t amazing.”
“I know.” I pat her back reassuringly as she rests more of her weight on me. I hope that one of her husbands has a strategy for sobering her up.
“You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” This time she does whisper close into my ear. “Well, I’m not. I’m just looking around hoping you’re going to jump some bones tonight.” She kisses my cheek, pulling back and giving me the most comical and exaggerated wink I’ve ever seen grace her pretty face. Around us, seven sexy Banbury men are dancing like pros, and Natalie and I are at the center of it all. She couldn’t look happier, and I’m pretty certain that I’ve never smiled so broadly.
If dancing technique is a good barometer for sex moves, then the four men whose bones I’d love to jump are set to be amazing. The tequila is like lava in my stomach, and I throw my hands in the air, loving how free I feel.
Thailand is beautiful, this event is spectacular, and I am buzzing and free. This vacation is like a bubble in time where I can throw caution to the wind. I dance closer to Natalie, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Do you think I can do it?” My friend’s soft eyes scan my face, her blonde hair starting to curl a little in the humidity.
“Of course you can, you idiot.” She punches my arm softly. “If I can, then you can with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, and cherries on top…in fact, what the hell are you doing here? Get these men off the dance floor and show them what you’re made of. It’s my wedding wish for you. In fact…” She bends over, grabbing the hem of her delicate dress and hitching it up her right leg. A pretty blue garter comes into view, and she tugs it down, stepping out of it with all the grace of a quarterback. “This is for you. Forget the bouquet. You need to have some fun.” I take the garter, hanging it from my index finger, laughing so much I can hardly breathe.