“The Book Bar.” He looks a little sheepish at having figured this out about me. “If it’s ever too much, just let me know, and we’ll take a break.”
It’s nice to have the option to turn the world off any time we want. I’m amazed that he’s figured out how noise overwhelms me, but also confused why he’d bring me somewhere so loud, knowing that. “Why here?”
“My parents used to bring us, before—” He swallows and his eyes grow even more intense. “I learned to salsa dance by watching them. And serving as the stand-in for my older sisters when no one asked them to dance. This place is special. I wanted to share it with you.”
I shiver, feeling the ghost of a relationship that has no bearing on my life and every bearing on Cosmos’. The weight of that makes me look away. The sound of the club crashes over me like a rogue wave.
He cups my cheek in his palm and directs my eyes back to his dimpled smile, pulling me from the depths of the sea into the silence we create. “Don’t worry. I’m a great teacher.”
That’s not what I’m worried about. It’s everything else. It’s waiting for the sword of Damocles, that proverbial weapon hanging by a thread, to fall and slice me open. Waiting for Cosmos to realize I’m nothis equal and go looking for someone else. Like Jeremy did with my mom.
“Hey. I lost you, didn’t I? Where’d you go?”
“I’m sorry. I told you I wasn’t going to be much fun tonight.” Looking away, I pull at the hem of my dress, feeling frumpy and casual compared to the glamorous couples on the dance floor.
“And I told you, you don’t have to be.” He rubs his thumb along my exposed collarbone, jolting electric energy through my body. “I am, however, determined,” he leans down and kisses my neck, “to get you,” he gently bites my earlobe, “out of your head.” His lips find mine.
The music pounds in my ears, but I don’t care now. Even my anxieties don’t feel so loud and all-consuming. The warmth of his hands and the taste of his lips overshadow everything else. Still kissing me, his palm spreads across my mid-back. His hips press close, and with gentle physical prompts, he guides me backwards, one leg coming between mine, stepping steadily to the beat of the music. He keeps kissing me until my back brushes against a tall table. He pulls away, and I feel like Velcro being torn apart from its other half.
He’s only gone for a second, setting our coats on the chairs, before taking my hand and leading me onto the dance floor.
An hour later, I’m sweaty and breathless and smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I haven’t thought about my thesis or even about Mom. All of my focuswas on our bodies, our movements. Cosmos led me around the floor so deftly it was almost easy.
Occasionally he slowed to show me a step, modeling it before he guided me through it, but mostly he just moved us fluidly in and out of positions I didn’t even know I could do. The pressure of his palm on my back directed me where to go. He pushed me out and spun me in, used his hands to twist my hips, his elbow to lift my elbow, his thigh to direct my thigh. He grabbed my leg and lifted it, moving me exactly where he wanted, how he wanted. I became a water droplet, flowing around him. When I missed a step or went the wrong way, he changed course to accommodate and worked my motions into his own. We became a river, fluid and magical.
And when we stopped, breathless and smiling, he backed me into a dark corner and kissed me with just as much passion.
Chapter Thirty-One
It’s a beautiful night now that the rain has stopped. After exhausting ourselves on the dance floor, we walk through the university campus. Being on campus makes me think of my thesis and wonder if any of the committee members have read it yet. Will they like my main character or find her whiny? Will the first chapter raise enough questions to pull them in? What will they think of the prose? Sullivan called my prose trite at our last workshop. Kiara called it dramatic.
Cosmos stops in front of the little ice cream place styled like an old-fashioned ice cream parlor from the 1950s. I’ve heard the ice cream is so rich it’s more like gelato, but I’ve never tried it before.
“Okay, time for the get to know you portion of the date,” Cosmos says as he holds open the door. “Favorite place to go on vacation?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t go on vacations.”
“Never?” He follows me inside, and we get in line.
“I mean, a few when I was young, but not much.” My parents could never agree on where to go. Plus, there was the fact that Jeremy was always traveling for work, and when he was home, he wanted to stay home. “My mom used to make things special in the summer by doing these stay-cations. We’d visit all the touristy places around town and spend every afternoon at the beach.”
“Beach?” he asks. “Where’d you grow up?”
“Florida,” I answer a little hesitantly. Kane used to call my birth state America’s wang. The fact that I was born and raised there didn’t stop him from making that joke, and even though I never felt a strong attachment to the state, it still felt like a slap in the face.
Cosmos just nods and asks me what kind of ice cream I want. We give our orders to the woman behind the counter. A scoop of mint chip for him and chocolate fudge brownie for me.
I’m not looking when I turn around and run smack into someone’s chest. When I look up, I realize it’s Dr. Paatel.
“Oh shit, I think I just ruined your coat,” I blurt out.
He looks confused, and I hold up my smashed ice cream cone. My neck is hot and blotchy as his eyebrows pinch into a knot. He shrugs out of his suit coat to assess the damage. This is not going to help my grade.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I apologize over and over.
Cosmos must have run off to the bathroom to get paper towels because he’s suddenly offering damp ones to Dr. Paatel and helping him gently sponge the chocolate off.
“Stop apologizing, Hazel. These things happen.” Dr. Paatel’s graciousness just makes me feel worse.
