FORTY

"Let me tell you a secret," Lila said as they sat with their backs to the counter that separated them from the bartender. 

"A secret?" Levi replied, glancing at her before focusing on the moving bodies on the dance floor. 

"Yes, it's a secret," she nodded. 

"Well, I guess I'll be honoured to hear it then," he said, still trying to control his gaze from wandering to her. 

"I hate nightclubs," she declared as if it were a top secret. "The blinding lights, the excessive drinking, the sweaty bodies rubbing against each other." She paused as if she were counting off a list. " All of it, I hate it," she finished. 

"That is no secret to me; I mean, considering how uptight you are, this is not a surprise," he said and she glared at him. 

"You are calling me upright."

"Because you are," he said, pressing his lips together. "I understand though; the club isn't really a place I like to be either," he said and that caused her to gasp. 

"But you're a social butterfly," she muttered and he nodded. 

"It's just too noisy for me to handle. I prefer a nice bar with low classic music and just a few people here or there," he said and she agreed with him. 

"I guess that is one thing we have in common, a nice bar and not a club," she said as she nodded. 

She felt her head get lighter than usual, and she instantly knew that the shots she had taken were kicking in. She pressed her eyes together to try to delay the effect, but she knew it was useless. 

"Where are the other places you prefer to a bar?" He asked.

She opened her eyes and stared at him. She understood what he had said; after all, she was not fully drunk yet. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words to get out her mouth, a little giggle escaped her mouth. 

"Did you just laugh?" He asked confused, and that was her response. "Did I say anything funny?" He asked, and she shook her head, followed by a giggle. 

Levi looked at her intently. "You are drunk," he pointed out, and she shook her head. 

"I'm not that lightweight; maybe a little tipsy, but drunk is a bit of an overstretch," she said, slurring each word and taking her time. 

"An overstretch? You can't even string a sentence together," he said, standing up. He took out his wallet and pulled out a card, sliding it to the bartender, who quickly processed their payment. He turned to her and shook her body. "It's time to return to our room," he announced. 

She threw her head back and giggled; she held her hand over her mouth and giggled again. It was like she was thrown into an endless comedy show. "The night is just beginning; how can we end it already?" She asked, but her words were incoherent. 

"But you are drunk, and being outside when drunk is not something you'd want," he said. He did not know what her drunken habit might be, and he was not sure he wanted to find it out that night. 

"I can control myself," she replied, closing her eyes and snapping her fingers in her face. She took a deep breath, and her eyes snapped open. She stood up and staggered, putting her hand from side to side. "See?" She said she was trying to ignore the fact that she would have been on the floor a moment ago. 

"I have no idea what it is you are trying to prove to me, but all I see is a drunk woman." His face was straight as he spoke. 

She blew her lips in his face, and the smell of the shots she drank filled his face. "You are no fun," she said and then turned to the dance floor. 

"What are you doing?" He asked as she kicked off her shoes. She was so glad that she had decided to wear flats even when her sisters had hammered that a heel would be the best thing for an outing like that. 

"How can you come to a club and not dance to the good music?" She asked.

Before Levi could express his thoughts, she was off into the middle of the dance floor; a few moments later, he saw her on the table. He laughed lightly at himself. He could not believe that she was as flexible and could dance well. 

She swayed to the music and was on the beat even though she was drunk. Levi could not take his eyes off her. He convinced himself that he was looking at her so she did not cause any trouble. 

She suddenly slid off the table and marched to him. She took him by his hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

"You look like a killjoy," she whispered into his ears, and his eyes grew wide with wonder at her. "Let's dance together," she muttered as she turned and began to dance so seductively, grinding her waist against him. 

He wanted to pull away, but it was not supposed to be strange—a wife grinding against her husband. He let himself go and just danced along. He could feel it; he wondered if it was the same for her—the tension between them.