Logan Chapter 36

-Emory-

The pounding music doesn’t help my sudden headache at all, and the less said about the lighting in here, the better, but it’s been a long time since Cora and I had a girls’ night out so I resolve to enjoy it as much as I can. “Come get drinks!” Cora yells in my general direction, and I follow her to the bar.

At one point, we had been going out to bars so often that I had made it a part of my budget, but now that money has been going into my new apartment fund. I still feel like I’m coming out ahead with this one lapse, plus men seem to always be buying us drinks. Cora says it’s something about how she looks at them. I think it’s more about the dresses she wears.

Between the headache and the music, I’m struggling to hold onto any kind of thoughts. Cora and I are drinking and dancing, and then we’re heading back to the bar where a couple of guys have been buying us drinks. They’re handsome, in a trust fund kind of way. I know Cora has already chosen one to go home with her tonight, leaving the other one to maybe come home to me. He’s taller than me, at least, and blonde. I’ve never really gone for blondes, but I’m sure I could at least try in the spirit of a rebound.

I’d love to say he’s smart, or funny, but there’s really no talking over the music and crowd, so the most I know about this guy is that he’s a great dancer. His body fits well with mine, and when he leans down to ask me to “find someplace quieter” I look around for Cora. I guess she already left with his friend. I’d better have a text on my phone to let me know she’s safe. If she’s already headed out, though, I guess I don’t need to tell anybody that Eric is coming home with me tonight. Or is his name Aaron? I know I haven’t been this drunk in awhile, and it’s against all of Dad’s safety rules, but I really just want to get home, anyway.

Once we finally get out of the club and into the night for the cab ride home- they’re always easy to find in this part of town- I find out his name actually is Aaron. He works in banking, and it turns out he has these gorgeous blue eyes. I could keep him for a night. I ask him about his friend, who turns out to be Chase, and they turn out to be work buddies. We’re well on the way to my place when I realize I should probably warn him about Logan-dog.

“Hey… listen. I have a big dog at home, but don’t worry at all. He’s super sweet. He’s some kind of giant breed but he’s a rescue so I don’t really know what exactly he is. I’ve seen him get along really well with some kids from my building, though, so you don’t have to worry about him at all.” His head snaps toward me like I just told him I live in an amusement park.

“I love dogs! He’s probably some kind of mixed breed if you can’t pick out anything specific. Those giant breeds tend to have really distinctive traits. The mutts are usually the healthiest kinds, though. I bet he’s the best boy. Do you think I can pet him? I can’t wait to meet him. What’s his name?” Aaron is practically vibrating in the seat next to me as he gets out his phone to show me his pictures of his “doodle”. I have to admit this side of him is cute, so I coo over his pictures with him and tell him of course I’ll let him pet my dog. We finally pull up to my apartment and go to walk up the stairs and inside.

“Sorry, I know this place isn’t the best. I’ll only be here another six months or so, just while I get settled into my first job in the city here.” There’s a lot of time to fill as we walk up three flights of stairs- especially with me on my three inch heels and far more than three drinks. I can’t tell if I’m slurring or not, which probably means that I am.

He huffs a little before replying, “It’s always good to have a plan. I never really had to do the starter apartment thing, but it’s cool as hell that you came here on your own and, like, planted your flag before finding something better.” Aaron grabs my elbow again to keep me from pitching backwards. Good man. Without him, I’d probably have to crawl up the stairs. I’m starting to wonder if bringing him home was a good idea. I’m slowly coming out of the fog of alcohol, like my brain is floating above and slightly behind me, watching my body make bad decisions. At this point, though, we’re already walking up to my door and I’m not sure how I would send him away, anyway. I might as well go through with it. He’s got good rhythm, and Cora may be right about a rebound doing me good.