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“No, of course not.” I actually had been planning on doing exactly that, but that was before I’d known there would be dancing. I’d thought we were going to a casual dinner, but now I wanted to join in the energy of the group around me, which definitely said PARTY.
Twenty minutes later when we exited, I no longer wore a bra. I was borrowing a top that happened to have no back. Paired with a short skirt and heeled sandals, I felt sinfully sassy and ready to shake it. And I wasn’t alone. These other women knew what they were doing. All around my age, they were dressed to kill. And they seemed intent on following through with it, too.
“He’s going down tonight,” one of them declared, heading over to her rental SUV, large enough for the four of us to share.
“Timber,” Megan agreed.
“It is so on,” the other woman added, each apparently with her own target in mind. I’d learned quickly over the past hour, all the sexual tension and self-denial going on between me and Chase? We weren’t the norm. Apparently the whole group was getting it on like bunnies.
“You must promise to tap that tonight,” Megan started on me again. None of them had believed it when I’d said nothing had happened between me and Chase. And it wasn’t even true. Something had happened. Last night I’d climbed onto his lap and we’d kissed like we’d stumbled onto the set of a Nicholas Sparks movie, kissing like we were soul mates in the rain at night after he’d rescued me.
Damn, it had felt good, even better than I’d thought and I’d thought about it a lot. His lips, so hot and insistent, fevered, coaxing such a tidal wave of response from me. I’d managed to break away, but I honestly didn’t know how. His large hands on my waist, his fingers itching to move, caress, stroke every inch of my body, I’d nearly lost my mind.
And according to these women, that’s exactly what I should do.
“If you don’t climb Chase like a tree tonight, I will. That man is so hot it’s illegal.”
I laughed nervously, torn in too many directions all at once. I’d never felt so insanely attracted to anyone before in my life. The way my body lit up around Chase made everything else I’d experienced before seem like child’s play. Apparently my whole adult life I’d just been messing around with matches, half the time not even getting one lit. Now I’d stumbled into an inferno.
Was I the only one concerned about professionalism and appropriate boundaries? The answer was clear. Yes, I was. But I was also the only one there with a hidden agenda, and that added some complexity into the mix, too.
“No, you guys. If Emma doesn’t have dibs, you all back the fuck off because that man is mine,” Megan declared.
Funny, Megan had struck me as a nice, fun girl but suddenly I had the urge to claw her eyes out. I looked out the window as we headed downtown. The restaurant was only ten minutes away. The ride was taking forever.
“You do know we’re heading to Rio in a week and a half?” One of them asked me.
“And anything goes in Rio,” another added.
Finally, we pulled into the parking lot, my stomach in knots. They thought I was crazy for not jumping Chase. I felt crazy for barely being able to think about anything other than jumping Chase. And now tonight if I didn’t jump him, I might have to watch a whole bunch of other women do it in my place.
Maybe it was time to drink some margaritas.
The restaurant had a festive, carnival-like atmosphere with music playing and multi-colored lights strung along the ceiling. I hadn’t seen much of San Antonio, but what I had, I liked. That was one of the fun things about running, I got to explore at a good pace. I’d traveled along the river walk downtown, jogged past the giant, ornate San Fernando Cathedral, and the area was teeming with gorgeous, trail-filled parks. But what had me the most impressed was the Mexican food.
I’d tried a few taquerias near the hotel and they’d all blown me away with food so fresh, crispy and delicious. The restaurant tonight looked like it would deliver, too, with plates of appetizers offered up on tall bar tables. I saw a large dish of guacamole with some thick red chips. I wondered if I could steal away with them. No one would notice, right?
“Emma! There she is! The mystery girl!” I got hugged by some giant men, obviously Chase’s teammates. I recognized them from the weight room and some were familiar from the last Olympics. A gold medalist from 2012 wrapped his larger-than-life arm around my shoulders. He could probably fit two of me under his wingspan.
“Get this woman a drink!” he called out to no one in particular, but a waitress did appear who took my order for a frozen margarita. “Now, tell me. How’s Chase treating you?”
“Oh, fine.” My eyes darted around the room, searching for the man in question. I didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he wasn’t coming tonight?
Another ridiculously supersized man leaned in. “Listen, if Chase gets too intense for you, you come find me.”
“Or me!” Added the man/octopus wrapping me in his grip. “You know she was supposed to be working with all of us,” he added, addressing his teammate.
“Fucking Chase, man.”
Then, like an old Western movie when the sheriff walks into the saloon through the swinging double doors, in came Chase. The guys talking tough around me piped down, taking quiet swigs of their Coronas. Chase looked right over at me as I stood surrounded by his teammates. His expression didn’t change, but I could see a firm, set, lock to his jaw. Then he got pulled into conversation. Or more like swarmed by eager women surrounding him like a school of minnows.
The arm around my shoulders dropped. The guys turned their attention to the other eager women in our party. What, had Chase sent out a memo to everyone telling them to back off? I almost got the sense that they were a little scared of him.
But Chase didn’t make his way over to me. He stayed over on the other side of the room, basking in the adoration of a million hot women. At least that was how it looked to me. Where had all these women come from? They weren’t his teammates. Some I recognized from the crew, an event planner and a team apparel rep I’d never liked. She was so sales-y all the time.
I wasn’t the jealous type. I swear I wasn’t. It had led to problems in the past, how trusting and non-territorial I could be. But there stood Chase in a sea of women all coming up with excuses to touch him. “Oh, you’re so funny let me stroke your huge shoulder.” “Help, I’m losing my balance on my six-inch hooker heels, let me stabilize myself by pressing my hands and boobs against your chest”. It made me see red.
And strike up a conversation with his teammate, Chris. It wasn’t as if I were actually interested, but the man was nice to look at and he sure knew how to chat me up. He delivered line after line, telling me how pretty I looked and asking if I knew that swimmers were famous for their stamina. He asked what I ate to stay so fit. I gave him the standard reply, that I aimed for fruits, veggies and lean meats but I’d never met a hamburger and fries I didn’t like. When I asked him the same question, he replied, “My doctor just told me I’m vitamin deficient.”
I fell for it. “Really? In what?”
“Vitamin U.”
It did make me laugh. He was super cheesy, but undeniably handsome. Though my awareness of Chase never wavered, it was a bit of an escape to engage in such mindless, easy flirtation. Time with Chase was so consuming, so electric and charged and intense. Talking with Chris felt like drifting lazily along a slow river compared to navigating white water rapids.
The margaritas went straight to my head. They cranked up the music and a posse of us flooded the dance floor. I hadn’t managed to get much food into my system yet, but how was a woman supposed to sit down and calmly eat her dinner when she needed to DANCE? I loved moving to the beat and it had been too long since I’d been able to shake it, over a month since I’d last gone out dancing. I wasn’t paying much attention to the bodies around me, the occasional hand around my waist, the admiring looks I received.
Until Chase came up to me. Once his hand went around my waist and we started m
oving together, that was it. It was all over. He had all my attention, all wrapped up. Were we on a crowded dance floor surrounded by other people? It didn’t feel that way to me. I saw his eyes and his lips. I felt his hands on me, his hips swaying with mine. His broad chest and shoulders were close enough now that I could reach out and touch, run a hand along the ridges of his muscles, press my body against him in the heat and rhythm.
When he pulled me off the dance floor, it almost felt as if he were snapping me out of a trance. We’d flowed so easily into the same pulse, our bodies moving together, seamless and fluid. But I followed him out of the crowd, down a hallway and then into a small storage room. Closing the door behind us, he shut out the noise and people. It was just the two of us, a light bulb overhead, and rows and rows of canned tomatoes.
“What—?” I started to ask before his lips met mine, hungry, and I met him with just as much urgency, my fingers wrapped up and pulling at his hair, my hips grinding against his.
“Emma,” he groaned, his hands traveling my bare back. “You’re killing me in this shirt.” I fisted his T-shirt, wanting him closer, wanting it off him. I needed his skin against mine, now. He sucked on my earlobe, teasing the tender flesh between his teeth. “You are not leaving with Chris,” he growled.
“No.” I didn’t even protest his caveman demand. I didn’t want to leave with anyone else. I wanted him, right there, right now.
