"Don't pussy out, Cruz. You've earned this shit," Smith chimed in, patting me on the back.
"Yeah. Plus, you're paying for this, so you better drink up," Newsome threw out, causing me to turn my drunken gaze on him.
Part of me wanted to lunge across the table at him; another part wanted me to sit my ass down since my head was spinning out of control by this point. All liquor and no food was making me feel like a lightweight. I hated it, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up the tough guy charade.
"Don't pay him any attention," Jensen said, helping me into a seat and shoving a beer into my hand, "he's paying tonight. He just doesn't know it yet."
I sat back in the chair and sipped the beer in my hand. Being overly intoxicated to the point of almost blacking out, or so I felt, left me no other choice but to become a bystander in this very crowded bar.
Smith and Newsome were two peas in the same pod. Caleb Smith and Andrew Newsome were both from some small, podunk town in Nebraska and joined the Corps together. After being sworn into the buddy program and going through bootcamp, Marine Combat Training, and Comm School together, they were separated but finally made their way back to one another in the form of Comm School instructors. They were a couple of bullshitters, but pulled chicks just like the rest of us. Their beach boy looks had me believing they were from California or Florida when I first met them, but alas, they convinced me they were from Nebraska and we've been friends ever since.
"Check out those girls over there," Riley goofily pointed out. He wasn't near as wasted as I was, but he was still completely fucking awkward. I tried my hardest to focus in the direction that he was pointing in, but all I could make out were a couple of groupies. Riley laughed and smiled, hitting me on the shoulder asking me if I wanted one.
"Fuck no," I quickly responded, throwing back more of the beer. There was no amount of alcohol that could make me want to get inside of anything he was pointing at. One of them had a tattoo that I could have sworn had the rank and last name of another fucking guy. Groupie if I ever saw one.
"You good here man?" Jensen asked. Some random Asian chick was wrapped around his arm, standing behind him.
"Yeah. I'm good. Go on."
With Jensen's caramel brown skin, and those pretty boy green eyes, women were always on his ass. He didn't discriminate, and unlike sorry ass Riley, Jensen's chick looked respectable.
Some Jay-Z song came blaring through the speakers and while I bobbed my head, humming lowly to the words, two chicks I had never seen before caught my eye as they sauntered out onto the dance floor. They didn't look like groupies, but you could never be sure. One was a well-built Latina, long thick brown hair, full pouty lips, sporting a warm golden complexion. She had a bangin' ass body, and while her jeans hugged in all the right spots, it was her friend that caught my eye. The long legs on this fucking blonde beauty were on full display. Thoughts of throwing those damn things around my waist and pounding my way into her were beginning to consume my mind, making me suddenly sweat. Sweating like a fucking pig. Was it the alcohol or my dreams of fucking the shit out of Blondie that had my shirt soaked and was making me lose all of my bearings? She danced with her friend, swaying those petite hips, making me think of a million and one ways that I could use them for my satisfaction.
Her smile lit up the room, the innocence behind it smothering me, and at one point, I believe she turned her head and looked at me, making my cock twitch beneath my jeans.
I bit down on my bottom lip… hard. After gulping down the rest of the beer I was holding, I rubbed my sweaty hand over my close cut hair, then adjusted myself as nonchalantly as I possibly could, which meant I was overly obvious with it, but I didn't give a fuck. Blondie looked at me and made me all sorts of uncomfortable, and I needed relief.
"What the fucks got you in a trance, Alex?" Jensen asked, coming back to the table.
"Nothing. Where's your chick?" I asked, trying to take my eyes off the only female in this bar that had ever made me lose myself.
"She went outside to check on her friend," Jensen responded, narrowing his eyes and following my line of sight. "Why don't you go and talk to her?"
"To who?" I quickly asked, turning my head back in his direction.
"Don't play dumb with me, asshole. It's got to be one of those chicks. My guess is probably the Latin one, but either will do."
I glared at him. For some reason, the way he brushed her off as any other chick in this bar really got under my skin, making me want to punch him and make him realize that she was much more than that. Or was she? How would I know? All I knew about her was that she owned a pair of perfectly toned legs, long golden blonde hair that I could only imagine wrapping in my hands as I had my way with her, and a fucking smile that was heating me up while melting me at the same time. Other than that, I didn’t know a damn thing about her.
"Sorry, man," Jensen apologized. I eased up a little, feeling ridiculous for allowing myself to get so riled up in the first place. "Anna's coming back, so I'm going to dance. I hope you get your ass off that chair and have some fun tonight." He smacked my head just as Anna, his chick of the night, was pulling him back onto the dance floor.
Some techno shit blared through the speakers and to combat the pounding thrums in my head, I ordered another beer from a floating waitress, hoping it would calm my headache and cool me down.
It really did neither.
Blondie was having the time of her life out there on the dance floor with her friend and every time she stole a glance over at me, or so my inebriated mind was telling me she was doing, I grew more and more agitated. She dipped low and her tight fitting skirt hugged her hips nicely, fitting like a second layer of skin. It stretched to accommodate the move, outlining the shapely ass that she possessed. I shifted in the chair, needing to break away from the daydream that this girl had pulled me into.
The beer I was babysitting was removed from my hand and placed down on the table. I looked up to find Leticia Castillo, or Sgt. Castillo as she's known around the schoolhouse, standing there looking at me with a sly grin on her face.
"You came to people watch or what?"
"Isn't that what I always do?" I asked, finding myself yelling over the raging techno beat. My head was finally settling, even with the copious amounts of people yelling over the music just to be heard in such a small space.
"Well, Staff Sergeant select, you aren't people watching tonight." She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the seat and onto the dance floor. Thankfully, just as we found our place the music switched and moved to something much more tolerable. Yeah by Usher came on, sending everyone from no rhythm to too much rhythm onto the dance floor. Castillo danced around me, sending flirtatious movements my way and I played along. It was a party song, it had me amped and thankfully, my impending hangover seemed to be fading away with every movement.
A couple of minutes into the song, Castillo was pulled away by some guy I had never seen before, leaving me standing like a loner out there on the dance floor. Luckily, that didn't last too long, as Blondie's friend shimmied her way over to me, her eyes low and wanting. When she got close enough, she threw a hand up to my chest and stroked her hips fluidly, as if she were simulating a very dominating sexual act. Her eyes never left mine and her perfectly full lips pouted even more, as she intensely gyrated herself up against me. I didn't give a shit. She was hot and so were her movements. She wasn't what or who I wanted, but she had guts, so I rolled with it.