He kinda had this bad ass look going on that the girl liked. Edgy, dark and most likely just the perfect amount of arrogance that would be fun to mess around with, fun to make fun of and just down right sexy.
That’s exactly what he was, Mr. Dark-Edgy-Sexy-Man, the boy that rode a motorcycle like he was Dale Earnhart Junior, had a smirk the size of Texas and the voice that could melt ice.
She watched him from where she was leaning across the table. She knew, for a fact, that her jeans made her ass look like a million bucks and she wore a top that made up for her flat chest. Her dark, brown hair was curled, tendrils gracing her back in gentle waves that made both genders want to run her hand through them.
A smile appeared on her lips as Mr. Dark-Edgy-Sexy-Man made his way to their table.
His eyes on the prize.
At ten feet away, the girl met him eye to eye, a staring contest if you will, as she slowly backed away into the mosh pit of dancers. The smile on her face turned sly, she beckoned him to follow her as she avoided the gyrating teens and their nameless dates.
The dark-haired beauty reaches the end of the dance floor, turning around to find the man.
Her shoulder don’t fall, her smirk doesn’t disappear, or the confidence that seems to follow her foot steps like a second shadow.
She knows he’s here.
She’s knows he’ll come back.
Turning around, the girl throws her arms around the guy’s neck. Taking in his delicious scent and the undeniable fact that he was there, with her.
“Jack,” she whispers, tears building in her eyes as her façade falls faster than the tears paving their way down her cheeks.
“If it isn’t my little David,” he smiles, his toothy grin sending her into a fit of sobbing laughter.
“I-I missed you so much, J.” She sniffs, “You don’t even know.”
“Oh, David, of course I know. Of course I do.” Jack gently brushes her tears away, wiping away all traces of salt water streaming down her cheeks.
David brushes her dark hair back from her face, takes a step back and looks at her David. Mr. Dark-Edgy-Sexy-Man cocks a smile, but returns the look with one of his one, hungrily looking at her like a raw steak. “Come on, David. Let’s dance.”
David takes his hand, happy to be in the arms of her best friend. Happy to be in the arms of a man she wishes would be her Prince Charming.
No matter how gay he is.
They didn’t look each other in the eye as they danced, both imagining who they would rather be dancing with.
For David, it was a straight version of the twirling god in front of her.
For Jack, it was the guy giving him the stare down at the bar, his tatooes swirling around his biceps and hiding beneath the sleeves of his shirt.
David noticed the look and gave Jack a nod, as if telling him to “buy him a drink before I do.”
Walking away, David starts dancing solo amongst the mosh pit, moving her hips to the beat.
And gently, ever so gently, hands rest on her waist, a chest presses into her back and the deep voice of a mysterious stranger fills her ears.
“Mind if I have this dance?”
She doesn’t answer his improperly, formal question, instead she keeps dancing.