“Could I get you to change your mind? At least hang out with me tonight? I’m not looking for a hook-up, either. Just let me be where you are in that beautiful head of yours.”
I smile, not responding, and turn back around, staying wrapped in his arms and moving to the music in connection with him.
His hands stray from my hips, traveling up and down my thighs, to my stomach, my arms and back around my waist. He’s careful not to put them on me inappropriately, but makes a point to place them everywhere else.
And I let him.
Feeling his strong body against mine makes me feel like I’m wrapped in the warmest blanket on a stormy night.
There’s something about his touch that brings me to places I’ve never felt. All of my anxiety and fears wash away, giving me security in his comforting embrace. The way his fingers trace the curve of my back. His strong hands caress my sides with a meaningful touch.
It’s soft yet manly.
It’s caring yet demanding.
Most of all, it’s lifting me to a high I don’t want to come out of.
Music is the only thing that could make me feel this way. When you combine the vibrations with the way his hands feel on my skin, I’m brought to a heaven I didn’t even know existed.
The rest of the night is spent in his arms, not having a clue how much time has gone by.
The bar announces last call, and the time warp I’m in disappears. I quickly realize I’ve only had one drink the entire night. I’m not a lush or an alcoholic, but for me to only have one is a little surprising.
Normally, I have a glass in my hand pretty much the entire time, but more as a defense mechanism than anything else. It gives me something to hold onto, or something to do when my insecurities get the best of me.
My head clouds when thoughts of Alex and not needing that defense mechanism once sets in. But fear takes its place. I wasn’t here to meet a guy.
Instinctively, I retreat from his embrace but he holds me closer, whispering in my ear, “You can’t leave until I at least get your number.”
“Sorry, I told you. I don’t want to hook up with anyone.”
“Well, good, me neither. I’m actually going through a divorce, so believe me, the last thing I want is a relationship. I’ve just had a fun night and want to hang out again.”
“You’re what? How old are you? How long were you married?” I’m surprised to hear he’s going through a divorce; he doesn’t look that old.
“That’s not important. We're not going to date, remember? Just hang out sometime.”
I smile, thinking it wouldn’t be too bad to hang out with him again.
Before I change my mind, he hands me his phone. I enter my number then he kisses my forehead, saying, “Thanks, Jenelle. I’ll see you around.”
3
Wakingup with a clear head and a nausea free stomach, due to the lack of alcohol, surprises me the next morning. If only my body didn’t feel like it’s taken a beating from the dancing.
I roll over in bed, pulling the covers up around my shoulders, trying to go back asleep. Instantly visions of Alex run through my head.
No. I will not think about a guy.
Hopping out of bed, I put on my workout clothes and grab my running shoes to head out the door, but not before reaching for the most important thing—my iPod.
I secure it to my arm, putting on my favorite running playlist as I go through my pre-stretch warm up. It’s a routine I’ve done religiously since Officer Training School. Since I joined the military as an Officer, I didn’t have to go through the same basic training as everyone else, though some things were exactly the same, like the running.
Most people hated every second, but I embraced it and have tried to continue running even years later. The beginning always hits you harder than I want, but there’s nothing better in life than the moment the endorphins kick in and I begin to soar. I feel invincible, like I can go forever and never want it to stop.
This is my favorite part of any day, and I look forward to it when I’m struggling with anything in life. When it’s just me and the pavement, my music, and my breath. Nothing else. Not my job. Not my rank. And no men.
Just me.
