Is everyone alive after that promo? 8 more days!
It was a Friday night and the entire office found themselves at another MMA match– thankfully this time Peter was just a spectator too. Though he gave up the fighting part of MMA he still hung with that crowd and was constantly trying to get everyone to attend the matches with him. Which, as of late, had become increasingly harder. She and Danny could only forgo so many social obligations before people got suspicious, and it didn't help matters that Danny was the worst liar she ever met.
Mindy figured their number had come up, that they couldn't find any more plausible excuses as to why they couldn't make it. You could only use the visiting relatives card so many times before people started wondering how much family you actually had. So it was– Danny and herself found themselves at a hot, sweaty, loud and cramped fight instead of having a nice dinner followed by a thorough workout sesh (beneath the sheets that is.)
Unfortunately Danny could hardly pay attention to the masculine display of two men grappling for dominance in front of him. Not when to his left Mindy was gasping every time a body was slammed into the mat. He spent the whole evening imagining that it was him eliciting those gasps from her. It took every ounce of control he possessed to not grab her by the shoulder and crush his lips to hers.
Just when Danny thought the night was concluding, the seats and small venue emptying rapidly, Peter ushered them over.
"Excuse me, ladies and gentlebros, we've been invited to an exclusive rooftop party commemorating Kenny 'The Anvil Sack' Spruce's 10th consecutive concussion! Open bar so ya know we gonna get stupid wasted!"
Mindy shot Danny a look communicating to him that they were definitely staying for the party. Who the hell celebrates concussions especially ten in a row? This man is a medical marvel and should be under in depth observation.
Thankfully the party was on the rooftop of the building they were currently in because getting a taxi on a Friday night was basically unheard of.
When they reached the rooftop the party turned out to be pretty mellow, only a few handful of people. Mindy knew it'd be a tough night though. Ever since her break-up with Cliff, Peter had been pushing random men towards her in hopes she'd get back on the "man saddle." She usually just told them that she doing the Eat, Pray, Love thing– well the Eat thing. And the Love thing, but that is on the DL.
One good thing about the night was the bartender had muddling equipment. Silver linings! As she was grabbing her mojito she saw Peter laughing and clapping some big dude on the back. Then the man made his way over towards her while Peter gave her a theatrical wink.
"Hey, I'm Ian. Or Ian the "Cage General." Peter told me your name is Mindy. You're an exotic beauty. So what are you?"
"Um, I'm a human. An Indian human." Mindy grumbled clearly unamused with Peter's incessant meddling.
"Sexy and witty, I dig a chick with brains. And wow, that's so weird. I'm like 1/16th Cherokee on my mom's side."
"...Yeah, what a strange happenstance." She opened up her phone, a clear signal that the conversation was over.
"You should come see my apartment. I've got the whole Indian motif going– you know I try to embrace my roots."
Danny couldn't take anymore. The beer bottle in his hand was in danger of smashing. Over that jerk's face coincidentally.
"Mindy can you come with me? I don't know how to check my voicemail and I told my Ma to call if she needed to get a hold of me." Danny sputtered as he led her away. Once out of sight of the party he took her hand and headed towards the elevator. It was dimly lit and smelled like a dirty gym bag. He pushed the button for the basement, ensuring a lengthy ride.
"Danny I showed you like 3 times how to check your voicemail. I know for fact you remember how to check it."
She looked at his face in the yellow light; it was giving his skin a sickly looking pallor. His jaw was clenched and his brow had the tell tale signs of furrow-ness.
"Oh my. Is Daniel Mussolini Castellano jealous? Of a man who thinks Indian equals Native American?" She asked lightly, a wide smile across her face.
"Okay, I'm going to ignore the Mussolini bit for now because that's not what this is about. But yes. That fucker, Ian "the douchebag" clearly just ASSUMES you're going home with him! Strutting around like he's god's gift to women! Newsflash Ian. You-"
Mindy cut him off with a rough kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth and aligning her body with his. He quickly responded, his hands roving in all the right places making her moan.
"God it's so hot when you jealously ramble." She breathlessly panted.
"Wait, you like when I'm jealous?" He pulled his head away from her neck to check her face for any hit of sarcasm.
"I mean not like possessively jealous, that's never cute. But that "douchebag" never had a chance babe. So yeah. I think you're adorable." He smirked at her reassurance and ushered her into the corner of the elevator where his mouth resumed it's earlier travels down her neck. Her fingers crept their way under the waistband of his jeans.
The elevator door opened and they stumbled out of it together, propelled into the dark of the basement floor. Mindy's arms were encircled around his neck while he had his hands on her ass. This wasn't the best idea in an uncharted and dark room. It was basically a killer's MO. It turned out it wasn't a killer they had to watch out for, but gym equipment laying forgotten on the ground. Heavy gym equipment.
They hit the floor with a resounding thud. Danny landed on his back while she landed comfortably on top of him. She took out her phone again to use it as a flashlight.
"Well at least you cushioned my fall. Are you okay?" She shined the phone at him, checking to see if he was still with her and conscious.
"Remind me to knock Peter out next time he suggests another MMA match."
"I don't know– these mats are kind of comfy. We'll have to burn our clothes after this though."
