With my eyes closed, the rest of my senses soar into high alert. The music seems louder, the synthetic scent of the fog machine more potent, tickling my nose. I can taste the sweet cranberry syrup still coating my lips from my last cranberry vodka. On every side of me, except for my front, I can feel the graze of sweaty bodies, writhing, jumping, standing still—
I only blink open my lids when I feel a solid body press into my front.
Blake.
He grins down at me, giving me a glimpse of his twin dimples on show, before he bends his neck, the warmpuffof his breath fanning over my ear. I’m sure he’s going to say something serious – he strikes me as the type A, slightly uptight type – or something about getting out of here or—
“Do you know how to do the sprinkler?”
I blink at him, taken by surprise by his unserious question and then I smirk.
“You mean like this?” Extending my right arm out long, I flatten my left palm to my ear and stutter along.
“Mm.” Blake hums, the deep sound vibrating against my stomach. “I think I can do better.”
We dance, ridiculously, may I add, until my lungs feel like they’re burning with the lack of oxygen from laughing so hard.
Shaking my head, a bead of sweat running down the length of my spine, I place my hands on my hips. “Time out. Time out.”
Blake smiles triumphantly. “I win.”
“Win what?”
“Our dance off.”
Rolling my eyes playfully to ignore the spark of happiness lighting up somewhere beneath my heart, I give Blake’s shoulder a small shove.
“Wanna get another drink?”
He nods, latching on to hold me as I navigate my way back through the crowd.
I see a few people look our way, more than a handful of eyes landing on my risqué outfit, but they turn away when they see Blake’s hands on me.
It’s slightly possessive and I love it.
“What would you like?” Blake utters deep into the shell of my ear, sandwiching me up against the bar and him. A delighted shiver runs through me at the feel of him, solid and warm, behind me.
I turn my head to answer him, my lips just shy of grazing his. “Just a water, please.”
“Two waters, please mate,” I hear Blake ask the bartender, but I’m too focused on the shape of his mouth; the swoop of his cupid’s bow, the way his top lip is slightly bigger than his bottom.
I’m not trying to pretend I’m not staring – topretendis not in my nature – so I don’t look away when Blake catches me staring. If the wide grin, with matching twin dimples, is anything to go by, I don’t think he minds one bit.
“You’ve got nice looking lips,” I say.
Blake raises both of his brunette eyebrows. “So do you.”
Turning back around, I hum nonchalantly. But I know Blake hears it, probably feels the humming vibration too, with the way our bodies are pressed together. Grabbing our drinks, I latch onto Blake’s hand, leading him to a leather booth, tucked away into the corner. From here, I can still see, in plain sight, Carmen and our friends, while giving Blake and I enough space to be alone. Shuffling in first, I smooth my skirt around my thighs while Blake sits opposite me, placing my glass of water down upon the table cluttered with left over glasses and an empty watermelon flavoured vape.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?”
I smooth the pad of my thumb over the circular rim of my glass. “Doesn’t everybody learn how to do the running man at least once in their life?”
“Funny,” Blake deadpans. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” I giggle. “I’ve been takingclasses for a while now, they’re a fun way of keeping fit without dreading working out, you know? Well, I guess you don’t really know, you must love kicking around a ball if it’s your day job.”
“I do enjoy it. Not as much as I enjoyed watching you dance, though.”
