Demi's POV:

I sipped on my drink and stared at nothing, unable to get Shane's words out of my head. . That wasn't true... Was it? He was just saying that because he was upset. I was more than capable of leaving my bubble.

"I can be spontaneous," I said to Sheila, taking a sip from my razztini. "I can. I don't have to have control over everything or have it all planned."

"Uh huh," Sheila said, taking her shot of tequila and gesturing for the bartender to fill it up again. Her platinum blonde hair rested down to her shoulder blades in natural beach waves. Sheila was my best friend since we were kids and the first person I called when everything went down with Shane.

"I can," I insisted. She looked over at me and nodded with her eyes all big and skeptical. "I can," I repeated, narrowing my eyes at her.

She shrugged, smiling and nodding at the bartender when he poured her second shot. "Okay." It was all she said before taking her shot.

"You don't believe me," I said, frowning at her.

"Honest?"

"Always."

"No." She shook her head. "Not even slightly. Not even a little bit. Not even the tiniest smidgen."

"I'm not a control freak," I pouted.

"You kinda are though, right?" She asked, her voice jumping a couple octaves. "It's okay, Demi. Everyone has their thing. There's nothing wrong with you wanting things to be... A certain way."

"I'm capable of loosening the reins."

"Are you?" She raised her eyebrows. "Want to try that new restaurant on fifth with me tomorrow?"

"No," I said quickly. "Sorry, but what do we know about it? Nothing. We should wait until other people go and the reviews come in. Four and a half stars from a total of at least a hundred reviews or forget it."

Sheila nodded, making a face like she wasn't surprised but didn't want to hurt my feelings. "Got it."

"That doesn't mean anything," I added, realizing what she was saying. "It's just a food thing. You know how I'm weird about food."

"Okay," she said, gesturing for the bartender. He came over and she sent a flirty smile to him. "Sex on the beach please," she said. He smiled. She winked. God, I wished I had her confidence. "Listen," she said, turning her attention back to me. "It's not just food, babe. I'm sorry. I am. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings and I don't think Shane was fair in everything he said, but the truth is, you are so scared of leaving your bubble that you don't ever try anything different, and it's not just food, it's with everything. You don't like taking risks, you like to be safe. And that's fine," she said, holding her hands up in surrender. "It really is. Not everyone likes to live on the edge and that is totally fine. You do you and don't feel bad about it. Everyone has their thing, it's not like you're alone in wanting things a certain way. Everyone lives their life the way they want to, they just have different motivations and different way of dealing with things. If your thing is waiting for at least a hundred reviews with an average of four and a half stars, then that's your thing," she shrugged. "Why does that have to be a bad thing? You would argue that I take too many risks. We all do things different, babe. It's just who you are and if someone can't see that's a good thing, they can go fuck themselves."

"I want to be more like you."

She laughed. "You hate the way I live my life."

"I do not," I frowned. She set her hand on her hip and gave me a skeptical look. "It scares me, it does," I conceded. She rolled her eyes and nodded. "But I'm jealous of you. You have all the confidence in the world and you're fearless. I wish I was like that."

"You want to know my secret?" She asked, turning her attention to the bartender as he slid a drink towards her. "Thanks, handsome," she said, giving him a sultry smile that had him leaning over the bar.

"How long are you going to be around?" He asked.

"Depends. How long will you be around?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Hmmm," she hummed. "I think I'm going to want to go home in about twenty-five minutes. Gets lonely at home."

"Well, I couldn't possibly let you be lonely," he said, leaning farther over the bar and smiling at her. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't decide if I was annoyed or jealous. Probably annoyed because I was jealous.

"Then you better do something about that," she said, picking up the drink and bring the straw to her lips.

"Idris," someone called, making the bartender break eye contact.

He muttered a curse then looked back at Sheila. "Sorry, duty calls. You need anything else?"

"Not anything I'm going to pay for."

My eyes widened and I looked away because I couldn't help my own embarrassment.

"Twenty minutes," he said, looking at her seriously. "I'll make sure you get home okay."

"You better," she said, her gaze going up and down his body slow and seductive.

He smiled and walked towards the person calling his name. I threw my arms up and she shrugged. "What?" She asked innocently as she sipped on her drink.

"How?" I asked.

"It's the shirt," she said, gesturing to her cleavage. "Straight men's brains stop functioning. The only thing they think is, 'boobs'."

"Okay, that's not really what I meant. I mean how can you tell he's interested?"

"I saw him checking me out."

"That's it? All it takes is a lingering look and you're just confident it'll work?"

"Right, I was going to tell you my secret." She set her drink down and turned on her stool to face me head on. "You want to know my secret?"

"Desperately."

"I fake it."

"In bed?" I frowned. "That's depressing."

"No, Demi, God," she laughed. "No babe, I fake the confidence."

I raised an eyebrow. "You fake the confidence?"

"Always."

"That can't be true," I said, shaking my head. "You always get what you want."

"Because people respond to confidence. You don't have to actually be confident, you just have to exude confidence. People like that."

"I don't know how to fake it."

"You know what I do? I pretend I'm hot shit like Scarlett Johansson or something. If Scarlett Johansson walked into the room, do you think any guy would turn her down?"

"You're way prettier than Johansson," I said. Sheila was gorgeous. No one noticed me when I stood next to her.

"Uh, matter of opinion but thank you," she grinned. "No, but really, who would turn her down? No one in their right mind would. So I just pretend I'm that sexy. Channel your inner Johansson. Or Hayek, or Beyoncé, or Gadot, whatever woman that you see in the movies and feel like, damn, I wish I looked like her."

"You honestly watch movies and think that? You're gorgeous."

"So are you, Demi, but we've been conditioned to not see ourselves that way. Doesn't mean we can't fake confidence."

"I guess I could try," I muttered, sipping on my drink. "Because I can try new things. I can be a wild child."

"Okay babe." She couldn't keep the smile down.

"All right, stop saying 'okay' like that," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. "I can totally try new things, I'm not restricted to my bubble."

She shrugged, bringing her straw to her lips. "You got nothing to prove to me. I love you the way you are. If Shane has a problem with who you are, then he can go fuck himself while you find someone who appreciates you."

"He's probably not fucking himself," I sighed, staring down into my drink. "Guarantee he's hooking up with someone."

"You can do that too, you know," she said, nudging my shoulder with hers. "You guys broke up. You're a free woman."

I shrugged, sipping on my drink again. I'd never had casual sex before. I couldn't fathom just going home with someone you knew nothing about. Sheila does it all the time, I reminded myself. I looked over at her and saw her sending the bartender another flirty smile. I couldn't believe she faked that confidence.

"I've never done that," I admitted.

"What?" She asked, giving him another smile before looking at me again.

"A one-night stand."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"No offense babe, but you aren't wild in any definition of the word. I'm surprised you even came out with me tonight. It is a Saturday. Are you actually going to skip church tomorrow?"

"I figured I'd just go in tired," I muttered, darting my eyes away.

"When are you going to tell them you don't want to go anymore?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's been months since you told me you don't want to go. You're an adult, Demi. You can do what you want without your parents' permission."

"I know," I sighed. "But my mom will be so upset."

"Are you living your life for her?"

I frowned because I didn't want to answer that. Because sometimes it did feel like I was living my life for her and not for me and I hated that. I just also hated disappointing anyone. I already disappointed them though. They were not happy when Shane and I moved in together. They said it was wrong unless we were married and had given me hell since.

"I don't want to live my life for anyone."

"Then don't," she shrugged. "Your mom will get over it. Besides, it's not like you need to tell her you had a one-night stand, wild child," she teased.

"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Do you want to try a one-night stand?"

"I don't know... Kinda. But I wouldn't know how to."

"You've had sex," she pointed out.

"Not like that."

"No, one-night stands are better. Trust me, there's a thrill that comes with not knowing someone. They could be a criminal for all you know but as long as they're good in bed, it doesn't matter because you won't see them again."

"I'm seriously concerned about the men you take home," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"You're seriously concerned about everything. I'm going to the bathroom, watch my drink?" Sheila said, sliding it over to me. I nodded, moving her drink next to mine.

She got up, grabbing her purse before heading towards the bathrooms. I watched her weave through the crowds towards the bathrooms near the entrance. She went out of view and I took another sip of my drink. She was right, I didn't need to change myself for anyone. But it also wouldn't hurt to loosen up at least a little bit. I glanced over towards the bathrooms after a few minutes and didn't see her, but saw someone else.

A guy in a long-sleeve, black shirt walked into the bar. My eyes traveled down to his arms where the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Tattoos covered the part of his arms I could see, disappearing beneath his shirt and making me wonder where else he had them. He greeted someone, pulling them in for a half-hug and gracing them with a smile that had me melting. He pulled off the longer hair on the top and shorter on the sides better than he had a right to.

"What are you staring at?" Sheila took her seat at the stool next to me. I looked away but Sheila was already following my gaze, a smile forming on her face. "Damn. I approve. Go for it."

"Are you insane?" I whispered. "No way."

"Why not? If you don't, someone else will," she said, grabbing her drink. "God, he's really hot, isn't he?"

I blushed and found myself looking over at him again. A stray strand of his dark hair slipped down near his eyes and he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back. His eyes were dark too, his skin was that perfect warm tone people suntanned to try to get. His eyes traveled around the room right over me, then came back to me. Dammit, he saw me staring. I looked away immediately and took another sip from my drink.

"He noticed," Sheila said.

"Shut up." I ran my finger over the edge of the glass and putting all my energy into not looking over at him again.

"Ah, too late babe, someone else took the opportunity."

I should not feel as sad as I did by that statement. I looked over and frowned, not seeing anyone around him. "There's no one there."

"Made you look," she said, nudging me with her elbow.

"You suck," I said, sending her a glare then looking over at him again. He was talking to a different guy now, another smile spreading on his face. Man, I was weak for nice smiles. I always thought those commercials for jeans were over the top because no one looked that good in jeans in real life, but I was wrong. He looked that good in jeans.

His gaze came back to me and I froze up. I should look away but I couldn't. He held my gaze, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small but noticeable smile. Good Lord, I must be horny because I had to cross my legs. I looked away quickly and went to sip my drink, finding it was empty. The nervous sipping got more out of control than I realized.

"I thought you could try new things?" Sheila teased.

"Shut up," I said, dropping my head in my hands. "I'm so bad at flirting, it's painful. I wouldn't even know what to say if I went over there."

"You could start with asking him to go home with you," she suggested.

"You can't just start a conversation like that," I said, shaking my head. "That's insane."

"With the right person you can. But fine, then start with names. Can't go wrong with names."

"I can't." I snuck another glance, finding him still talking with that same person. I looked away before I could get caught. "What do I do? Just walk up and be like 'hey, what's your name'?"

"Why not? Ask him if he wants to have a drink with you."

"What if he says no?" I asked, my shoulders slumping.

"Then he's an idiot, or in a relationship. But he's not wearing a ring, so at least you know he's probably not married."

"Probably?"

"Sometimes people take off their rings and you find out in the worst possible way that you were the other woman."

"Did that happen?" I asked, my eyes going wide.

"Once," she said, making a face. "It felt like shit."

"That's terrible," I frowned.

"Some people are trash."

"What if he's married?" I asked, sneaking another glance. Man, what was someone that good looking doing just walking around normal people?

"I doubt he is, Demi, geeze," she said, rolling her eyes. "It happened one time. Just go talk to him. I dare you."

"Oh my God," I groaned. "Don't pull that on me. What are we, in middle school?"

"It worked then," she grinned. "I remember your hot kiss with Quentin. Well, hot for middle school. It lasted longer than three seconds."

"It wasn't hot, trust me." The memory made me cringe. It was not a pleasant first kiss.

"I also remember you telling your mom about it because you felt so guilty," she added. "Just don't repeat that mistake with hottie over there," she said, nodding to the guy, "and there won't be a problem."

"What if I trip on the way over? That would be embarrassing."

"Then we blame the alcohol and I'll take you home."

"You have plans," I said, nodding to the bartender.

"If he wants me that bad, he can wait an extra ten minutes for me to take my best friend home."

"Or I can just stay here and imagine he said yes and go home to my vibrator," I pointed out.

"True. At least then you'll know you'll cum."

"Right. Then there's no risk of rejection."

"And no chance of something better," she added. "Or of seeing what the rest of that delicious body looks like. He's tall, you know. You know what that means," she added with a wink.

I sighed and looked over at her. "You would do it?"

"If I hadn't already picked one and you weren't making doe-eyes at him?" She asked, looking past me and over at him. "Absolutely."

"I can try new things," I said, wringing my hands together.

"Got nothing to prove to me or anyone else, babe. But if you got something to prove to yourself, then go talk to him."

"If he rejects me, I'm going to be depressed."

"If he doesn't, it could be the best night of your life," she countered. "He was looking at you too, Demi."

"Probably wondering why I was staring," I muttered, looking over at him one last time.

"Nah, a man that hot knows why a person is staring at him. Trust me, he knows why you're staring."

"If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn't."

"Are you going for it or not?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because mine will be ready soon and I need to know if I'm delaying so I can take you home. Come on Dem, I dared you," she teased. "What do you say?"

"I'm..." I looked over at him. Someone said something to make him laugh and my stomach fluttered in nervousness. You're too scared to leave your bubble. "Fine," I said, rising from my stool.

Sheila's eyes widened before she smiled. "Go get him, then," she said, gesturing for me to go.

"I will," I said, grabbing my clutch and turning, seeing him standing in the same place. I turned back to Sheila. "Can I have like a tiny sip of your drink first? You know, for liquid confidence."

She nodded and handed me her drink. "You haven't had too much, have you?"

"No," I assured her, taking a sip of her drink. Well, more than a sip. I handed it back to her and smiled sheepishly. "Thanks."

"Just go get him," she said, rolling her eyes.

I turned, holding my clutch a little too tightly as I made my way through the bar. There were a lot of people since it was a Saturday night. I had to weave through the crowds, trying to avoid any drunk people bumping into me. I went around a group of particularly tall people and once I got past them, I couldn't see him anymore. He wasn't standing where he had been. I stood on my toes to try to see over the crowd but couldn't spot him. It shouldn't be that hard, he was tall.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice was right by my ear and startled me. I jumped and turned, dropping my clutch and finding the source of that deep, raspy voice was the very person I was just looking for. I stared up at him for a minute, unable to form words. His eyes seemed even darker up close. Shit, I was supposed to get to him first, not have him sneak up on me. All the words I thought I could say left my mind. He smiled and crouched down, picking up my clutch and offering it to me.

"Thank you," I managed to get out, taking my clutch.

"So?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Are you looking for someone?" He asked, his lips turning up into a small smile.

"Oh, uh," I started, darting my eyes away. If I was Sheila, I'd say you, but I wasn't Sheila. "I was just... Walking."

"Around a crowded bar with no purpose?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"It's good for digestion."

A small chuckle escaped him and I wondered how long it would take me to run to the front door, change my name and dye my hair since I would never recover from the embarrassment of that statement.

"So, just a stroll around the bar then?" He asked, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Here I thought you were headed my way."

"You did?"

"I noticed you noticing me."

"Oh," I said, darting my eyes away. "I mean, it's a crowded bar. You don't know I was looking at you."

"Weren't you?"

"I..." I was not good at conversation normally, but especially not flirting. "Okay fine," I conceded. "I noticed you and I was on my way to come talk to you but the truth is I didn't know what to say, I was hoping I'd come up with something by the time I got here and my friend was encouraging me to go talk to you and so I decided to try but now I'm making it awkward, aren't I?" I nodded, answering my own question. Obviously I was making it awkward. "I'm making it awkward, just pretend this didn't happen," I said, turning on my heels to get the hell out of there.

His hand locked around my wrist and he tugged me back towards him, an amused smile on his face. "What's your name?"

"Demi," I said, biting my lip. "I mean, it's not Demi. It's actually Althea, but I go by Demi because it's my middle name and I can't go by original nickname of Thea anymore, unfortunately. My parents named me after my aunt who passed away. They asked my grandparents if it would be okay for them to name me after her and they said yes, acted like they were cool with it but then after I was born wouldn't talk to me because I guess it was too hard for them to have me have the same name as their late daughter, which they should've said, but whatever. So I used to go by Thea, which I really liked, but I started going by Demi to make my grandparents less weird around me so that's just what I say now when someone asks."

He nodded slowly and I realized I was just nervous talking.

"You didn't need to know all that," I said quietly, fiddling with my clutch. "I'm a nervous talker."

"So... Thea."

"Thea's good," I said, feeling the blush rising. I hadn't been called that in a long time.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thea," he said, holding his hand out. "I'm André."

"Nice to meet you," I said, taking his hand and blushing even more when he turned my hand and brought it to his lips.

"You know what I think?" He asked, running his thumb over my knuckles before letting it go.

"What?"

"You should go by whatever name you like."

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. I had no idea what the hell to say. How did normal people flirt so easily?

"So... What now?"

"You were the one making your way to me," he reminded me.

"Right," I said, darting my eyes away.

"This is the part where I'd ask if you'd like a drink, but it is close to closing time and I noticed you had a few already," he said, inclining his head to the bar. "How much are you feeling it?"

"Not very much," I shrugged. "They weren't that strong. I just like the taste of razztinis."

"Understandable. So you tell me, Thea, what now?"

My face warmed and I darted my eyes away again. Come on brain, think of something to say. I looked over at him, my eyes sliding to his forearms where his tattoos were.

"You like them?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah. They're beautiful. Your artist used way more detail than mine did."

"You have some?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have one," I said, feeling embarrassed. "My friend and I got matching ones."

"The friend at the bar," he said, looking back at where Sheila was not so subtly watching us. I gestured for her to go away while his back was turned then tucked my hands behind my back when he looked back at me.

"Yeah, that one. It's just a small one."

"Where?" He asked, his eyes scanning my body and making the butterflies in my stomach grow.

"On the back of my shoulder," I said, patting my left shoulder. "It's not visible very often. I have to be wearing the right clothes. This way I can hide it from my parents."

"You parents disapprove?"

"They're kind of... Conservative. So yeah, they're not fans of me 'ruining' my temple."

"Why should a tattoo ruin anything?"

"It doesn't," I shrugged. "It's just that my brother got one and now every time they see him they make a point to say they don't like it and I don't exactly want that lecture every time I see them."

"I see. May I?" He asked, taking a step towards me and setting his hand on my shoulder, hooking his fingers in my shirt.

"U-umm, sure," I nodded. "Yes."

He took another step towards me and gathered my hair, putting it all on the right side before tugging my shirt over until it uncovered the small butterfly tattoo. He was standing so close now, our bodies were touching. If that wasn't bad enough, the feel of his rough fingers against my skin made my body way too warm, so warm I had a hard time remembering to speak.

"It has meaning," I said quickly, realizing how cliché the tattoo looked and to break the silence of him just staring down at it. "We didn't just pick butterflies because they're cute."

"What's the meaning?" He asked, running his finger over the tattoo and making my hear start thumping again.

"We met at a butterfly conservatory," I explained. "I was homeschooled and she was on a fieldtrip with her school. She comforted me when someone ran into me and I fell back against the wall and into a butterfly. We snuck out and buried it together when the adults weren't looking."

"You buried the butterfly?"

"I felt really bad about it."

"It's sweet," he said, running his finger over my skin one more time before moving his hand but not stepping back. "I have some for my closest friends as well."

"Really?" I asked, looking up at him. His eyes weren't the only thing more intense than I realized from afar.

"Really. But they're also hidden with clothes. If you wanted to see it, my shirt would have to come off and as much fun as that would be," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "I don't think they'd approve of that here."

"Probably not," I agreed, my voice going way higher than it should have. This is what Sheila would call an opportune moment, a time to make a move with that opening. Shit. I wasn't good at moves. Fake confidence, come on. "I mean, they have no control over other places though. I don't think the hotel across the street cares as long as it's in your room."

"I'd hope not, given it's supposed to be private," he said, holding out his hand. "You want to get out of here, Thea?"

My heart thumped even more and before I knew what I was doing, I was setting my hand in his. He closed his hand around mine and started to the door, letting go of my hand and setting his hand on my back instead. I looked over at Sheila and she gave me a thumbs up. I rolled my eyes and stayed close to his side as we made our way through the crowded bar just as they announced last call for the bar.

We stepped outside and I was against the wall so fast, I barely registered we'd moved. He brought his hand up to my chin, tilting it up towards him, his lips coming centimeters from mine. "Let's see how these lips taste," he said, running his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes staring down into mine.

I nodded and as soon as I did, his lips were on mine. My entire body responded to that kiss, especially when he pressed me even more against the wall with his body. His lips moved against mine urgently and I couldn't stop the moan. His tongue danced along my lips and I allowed entrance, sinking into the kiss even more when I felt his tongue against mine. I brought my arms up around his neck and he slid his hand down to my waist, pulling me against him roughly as he broke the kiss.

"Let's go," he said, pressing a kiss my jaw, then my ear where he whispered. "There's more of you I want to taste."

A/N:

That's the end of the sample! Read the rest from the link in my bio ❤️ (also the rest of this scene is in that erotic one-shot book I have here 😁)