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“They often let hot girls cut in line. Maybe he liked you.”
“Or maybe he liked you.”
I shrugged, glad we weren’t stuck waiting outside half the night. Then again, if walking at the doorman with confidence hadn’t worked, money would have.
Holding tightly to her hand, we weaved through the crowd, descending the terraced levels down to the wildly throbbing lights of the dance floor.
“Drink first, or dance?” I shouted in her ear.
“Dance! If I start drinking now, I’m going to have to pee a million times.” She grimaced. “The line for the restrooms looks enormous.”
“The trick is to dance hard enough to sweat it out,” I admonished loudly, earning a grin from a woman who sidled past us.
“I also can’t be hung over tomorrow.” She shook her head. “Shit. I forgot to call Valor.”
I pulled her onto the dance floor, where we managed to find a small space for ourselves. The club was packed. “Call him now.”
“Can you believe I forgot my phone at home?”
“I never remember to bring mine anywhere.”
I spun her in a circle, and she laughed as I jerked her close. Her amusement fell away as I followed the slower beat in the song, grinding against her while people around us danced like mad to keep up to the main beat. She blinked up at me, and her eyelids drooped. Was she still as hot for me as I was for her? The adrenaline of rushing here had my heart pulsing in my ears, but part of it was having her in my arms, the smell of her, the lingering taste of her pussy on my tongue.
Holding her close felt so good. I’d only been gone long enough to visit my family for a day, paint for a day, and travel a day on either side, but I’d missed her almost every moment.
I’d painted her several times, then burned most of the canvases, not happy that I couldn’t manage to capture her sweet nature as well as I wanted to. Either paint was too crude a medium to do her justice, or my hands were too stupid. I’d resorted to abstracts, bright colors, trying to express my longing for her, and my joy at being with her, but everything felt inadequate.
I felt inadequate.
She was too good for me.
She was also too good for Valor.
That meant I stood a chance.
As one song shifted to the next, I let her go to dance on her own, loving that she lost herself in the music the way I did. Her movements were graceful, her face beatific.
How could any man not fall deeply, despairingly in love with this woman?
Hours and several drinks later, her energy was flagging. She’d mentioned she’d been up since six this morning, and it had to be two? Three?
“What time is it?” she shouted in my ear as I slow danced with her despite the fast, hypnotic beat. I felt like we’d run a marathon. Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades.
“I was wondering the same thing. Probably three? It’s hard to get a sense of time in here.”
“Shit. Three? I’m going to be a zombie in the morning.”
“Feel free to bite me anywhere, anytime.”
“Bad!” She laughed.
“Mmhmm.” Although I hadn’t drank much, thetuzemákin my system had dulled the edge of my memories, and left me here, in the present.
I kissed her and felt our lipstick smear together. She must have felt it, too, because she giggled against my lips.
When she pulled back, she wiped at a spot below my bottom lip.
“Should we go?”
