Page 18 of Abel

“Hey, guys,” the bartender says, “what’ll it be?”

Cam takes the liberty of ordering something for the both of us as I turn around and face the crowd.

The first thing I really notice is that we are seriously over dressed. Either that or this place is a new leather club or hangout that us squares have walked into. The men and women all have on leather.

Leather pants, leather jackets, leather chaps. This place is swimming with so much leather it’s friggin’ unreal.

“Cam, why didn’t you tell me they were all about the leather here?” I watch as confusion shines on his face when he turns around to look at the crowd. “How did we overlook this tiny, little tidbit?”

“Because we don’t belong here and the way we’re dressed shows. Now, quit your whining and drink this.” He says, pushing my drink towards me.

Wrapping my fingers around the cool glass, feeling the condensation drip down my hand reminds me of being on a beach somewhere. Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a sip. “Mmm, this is good.” Not too sweet, but extra strong, just like I need my drinks these days. Before I know it, I'd downed the entire thing in a few gulps.

“Hmm, someone was thirsty.” Cam smirks. “You want another before we go out on the dance floor?” He asks, slowly taking ladylike sips of his drink. Playing around with it is what he’s doing if you ask me.

“Yeah, I’d like another.”

“I knew you would. You’ve been crying yourself to sleep for how many nights now? All because of that worthless piece of shit you had the nerve to call a boyfriend.” He scoffs. “Filthy piece of trash is what he’ll forever be known as in my book. Thanks, sweetie.” He mumbles to the bartender.

“That’s not something I want to get into tonight. Tonight, I just want to forget and have a damn good time while doing it.” I grab the drink, toss it back, loving the cold, burning sensation it creates as it slides down my throat. “I’d love something else sliding down the back of my throat.” I whisper, but not as low as I thought.

“Hells yeah,” Cam chimes in, tossing back his own drink, “let’s go out there and show them what the dynamic duo is all about.” Ahh damn!

The dynamic duo is what we used to call ourselves when it was just us. There was no him without me and vice versa.

Then, along came Travis and we turned into three’s company.

We had some good times together.

We’re still making memories with each other, but it’ll soon be time for me to go, no matter how much they disagree.

I refuse to be the third wheel in their life, watching them tap dance around me and my feelings.

No siree Bob.

So, once this night is over, I’m going to get my shit together.

No more thinking about the events that led up to this.

It’s time for fun, no more games.

“They’re not ready for this.” I say, hopping off the barstool, grabbing his hand, and dragging him with me to the jukebox sitting in a corner.

One thing about this place is the nostalgia mixed with whatever else they have going on.

After I eyeball the selection, and what a damn good selection it is, I find something that piques my interest.

Pressing the letter E and the number 4, I watch as the track springs forward, making its way to the record spindle. From there, the needle slides down over it and one of the greatest songs by Joan Jett fills the club.

“Oh, you took it there.” Cam grins, ready to jam to “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll”.”

“You bet your ass I did. This happens to be our song.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” He smirks, grabbing my hips and pulling me flush against him where we get lost in the music.

Bumping our hips together, grinding on each other as we belt out the words with Joan, I laugh and smile, forgetting about everything else.

As this song comes to an end, another one begins. I look over at the jukebox to see two handsome, yet rugged men standing there with huge grins on their faces.

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