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The deep bass of the energetic samba drowned out anything I tried to shout back to her, but finally, we stumbled off the main dance floor. We gasped for breath, pants mixed with breathless giggles, our fingers locked together.
“Jesus, are all parties like that here?” Reid finally gasped, tucking a golden curl behind her ear.
With my free hand, I fixed another stray curl on her head, my smile maddeningly wide.
“I wish I could say no but I’ve never been to a party that falls short of absolutely crazy,” I admitted, my fingers lingering on her cheek for a second too long. “When I still attended these parties, I usually ended up begging one of my friends to give me a ride home on their back.”
“I can see why.” She chuckled, a hand pressed to her chest.
My skin crackled with her touch; I was all too aware that we were still holding hands.
And we didn’t need to anymore.
“Well,” she sighed, glancing around at the small bit of beach that wasn’t crowded, “we might as well make the most of it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, following her gaze.
The small section of sand we’d stolen was far enough from the party that we wouldn’t be disturbed, but close enough to see and hear everything that was going on. Even in the dark, her eyes sparkled, putting every star in the sky hanging above us to shame.
“Wanna dance?” She giggled, holding her hand out to me.
I blinked, glancing from her hand to her face and back again. Who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?
“We’ve been to almost every club this side of the city,” I said, taking the hand she offered anyway.
She pulled me in and spun me around, forcing a startled giggle out of me as I regained my footing. Her black dress clung to her slim figure, her deep neckline leaving entirely too little to my imagination. Her sleeves reached her wrists where, despite me begging her not to, she wore sparkling diamonds.
Her heels, like mine, swung from their makeshift tie on her purse, her feet as bare as my own in the sand. My feet sank into the softness of the sand, still warm from the scorching sun, something about it grounding me.
Maybe it was Reid.
“Like that would ever stop you,” she accused with a smirk. “You love dancing.”
I did.
And I learned very quickly that I loved dancing with Reid most.
We twirled and stumbled together on the sand, giggling and crying out when one of us almost crashed to the floor.
I’d somehow convinced Reid to experience the local nightlife and she’d miraculously agreed. And seven hours later, without a single drop of alcohol to blame, we happily fell into each other’s arms as we tripped over our own feet. In our own secret world, we danced on sun-warmed sand under the moon, and the only music that mattered to me was the melody of her laughter.
But too soon, her ankles gave out.
“Mercy,” she gasped, her hands braced on her knees. “I need to sit down.”
“Thank God, because I can’t feel my feet anymore.” I chuckled.
“You could have said something!”
We walked through the dwindling party and back to the private car waiting in the street just outside.
I shrugged. “I’m competitive.” I snickered. “I didn’t want to be the first to give in.”
“Sneaky,” she muttered through a grin as the car pulled off.
The trip back to the hotel was short, and we hobbled back up to our rooms, leaving a trail of beach sand and muffled giggles behind us.
Joy bubbled through me and I figured it was because I was finally home.
