“Oh,” he chuckles silently, lifting a camera and smiling widely. “I plan to.”
I shake my head, unable to subdue the smile that threatens my face. This one is more compact than the heavy Canon he hauls around. “What kind of camera is that?” I ask.
“Film,” he says, settling back into the seat and regarding me out of the side of his eyes.
“Okay, everyone! The party is being held at a secret location, so I’m going to ask you to put these on,” Gayle announces. Blindfolds get passed around, and the chatter of our group grows louder than the music. My anxiety morphs into excitement as I fix the smooth velvet over my face.
We’re led into a building, not allowed to undo our blindfolds until we’re ushered down a short flight of stairs and into a dark hallway. The brick walls bounce with the heavy bass from the speakers, and muffled laughter and cheers drift toward us. We enter the dimly lit room — I suck in a sharp breath as I take in the environment. A wall of bookshelves marks one end of the room, and on the other side is a bar. I recognize a lot of the people in the room from the night of the tree lighting ceremony.
We’re all standing, looking around in awe, when a server walks up with a tray of champagne. Gayle takes two, one for her and another for Jiraiya, signaling for us to do the same. “Okay,everyone! Have the time of your life!” She holds the flute in the air, charging it with quiet anticipation.
“Merry Christmas!” She yells.
“Merry Christmas!”
Nick
Ilost count of how many glasses of champagne she’s had. I can’t blame her, I’m on my third —it’s good champagne. I hold the tiny window of my camera up to my eye and take my time adjusting the shutter speed and aperture, making sure the image is perfectly in focus before clicking the button. At some point, a disco ball descended from the ceiling. Through my lens, I capture the tiny balls of light sprinkled over the crowd like glitter. Red laser beams spread through the room in time with the tempo of the music.
Krystal is dancing against the owner of the tattoo shop we went to on our first outing. My mind stalls, unable to bring her name to the surface of my mind as I keep my eyes on Krystal’s winding hips. She drags her hands over her sequined pants and up her toned body. In the dim lighting of the room, the contours of her muscular body seem more intense, and her face glows with pure enjoyment.
As if she can feel my attention trained on her, her eyes flicker from the point on the floor they were glued to and connect with mine. Her gaze sends a wave of need down my body, landing in my core and spreading — molten from the heat of craving.
She dances over to me, stepping in perfect timing with the rhythm until her body is pressed against mine. She pinches my sweater, looking up at me with a smile in her eyes. “Are you going to spend the whole night taking pictures?”
“What do you want?” I ask, understanding by now the alternate meaning that question holds for us.
Her skin reddens, she blinks away before looking back up at me. Her movements are loose as she rests her weight on my body, splaying her hand over my chest. She has to feel the way my heart jumps at her touch, feel my temperature rise from her proximity. “I just want you, Nick, however I can have you,” she answers.
My brows jump, my heart races. It’s what I want to hear, but a part of me doesn’t want to believe it. It could be the champagne; she could mean something different.
“Even after Christmas?” I ask, surprised by the softness of my voice.
She whimpers, resting her face against my chest. I shouldn’t have asked, because if she tells me yes and then changes her mind, that would sting in a way I’m not prepared to cope with. I didn’t anticipate meeting her on this trip or feeling this way about her, even after we met. I didn’t remember how good it feels to be seen and accepted, exactly as you are. The idea that in two days, it will all come to an end…after two days, I’ll go back to being alone…I lay my trembling hand over her back, holding my breath as I wait for her response.
Her face grows serious as she holds my gaze. Her eyes shine with unexpressed emotion. “I thought I’d never feel this way about someone else,” she says, huffing a scoff and a chuckle. “I think, in a way, this is the first time I’ve felt likethisabout anyone.”
Rita and Kendra stumble over to us. Rita’s heels are hooked on Kendra’s fingers, and they laugh obnoxiously when they grab Krys’ wrist and pull her into the crowd. She still has my sweater pinched between her fingers, so I’m pulled into the busy, dancing group with her. “Gayle!” The DJ shouts into the microphone. “Everyone give it up for Gayle! One of our newest locals! Giving transplants a redemption arc in the Bay!”
The crowd whoops, breaking into loud applause.
“This party was Gayle’s idea, so…Mrs Emerson — this next song is for you!” He says, flipping a switch on his turntable. Get Busyby Sean Paul blares through the speaker, and the crowd descends into chaos. Those who know it sing along, and I don’t think there’s a body in the place that isn’t shaking to the beat.
Krystal is in front of me, her hips ticking as she flashes her arms to the music. I pull the camera up to snap a picture when she spins to face me. “Nope,” she commands, lowering my arms and wrapping them around her waist. Her body sways against mine, tempting me to follow suit. She grinds her body against me, pressing her thickness into my front as her body rolls to the sultry notes of the flute in the song’s melody.
I’m not dancing, not really. My body is more of a backdrop to her, a job I willingly embrace as she hinges, shaking her perfect ass. Without thinking, I run my palm down her back. This activates the electric current that runs between us. Suddenly, we’re the only people in the room. The music fades as I straighten her posture and turn her to face me. I pinch her chin and crash my mouth into hers. Her tongue slips eagerly into it as her arms circle my shoulders. She pulls me closer, and I stoop, scooping her up and wrapping her legs around my middle.
I carry her to the back of the room, pressing her against the wall as I have my way with her perfect lips. Her breath is heavy, her heartbeat matching mine. She didn’t answer my questionbefore, and the question mark glows at the back of my mind. In this moment, it doesn’t matter. I have to believe there’s more to us after this. This can’t be it, not when I inspire this reaction from her — not when my body’s purpose lives at the mercy of her touch.
The music eventually simmers, and we finally break apart. My brows furrow when I see the glimmer of dampness under her eyes. “Are you?” My heart races with anxiety. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”
She looks up at me, confusion lining the corners of her mouth. I swipe the wetness under her eyes, smudging her makeup a bit. “Oh,” she replies, touching the tears and considering the shine coating her fingertips. Then, she bursts into hysterical laughter.
“It’s overwhelming, I guess,” she shrugs, tapping under her eyes with her other hand.
“Do you want to leave?” I offer.
“No!” She smiles up at me. “Nick, I’m fine. More than fine. This is…this is one of the best nights I’ve had in a while…one of the best weeks.”
