“What’s your poison?” “Plain cranberry juice for me tonight.” I have to lean in close enough I can smell his spicy aftershave to be heard over the pounding bass. “Being responsible tonight, eh? Hopefully not too responsible, though.” He winks and places a hand on the small of my back, ushering me across the sticky club floor before I have the chance to turn him down. Fresh drink in hand, I scrunch my nose and say something that’s neither true nor necessary information to share right now. “I have a boyfriend.” “Okay?” He smirks, not giving a shit whether it’s the truth or not. “And I’m
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This reminds me of the movie Knocked Up. Girl, why are you at a night club pregnant? Come on now
