Ellie laughed and let herself be led. They found a spot at the bar and Alexa ordered tequila, one each, salt, no lime because “lime is a crutch.” They clinked glasses and knocked the first back, and Alexa immediately ordered two more.
“Pace yourself,” Ellie said, grimacing at the taste. She could hold her tequila but she’d never been a fan.
“It’s Thursday of spring break. We can pace ourselves on Monday.” They did the second round and Alexa shook her head like a dog after a bath. “Ok. Now I can dance.”
“Wait.” Ellie was feeling a little reckless by then as she turned to the bartender and held up four fingers. “Four kamikazes.”
“Four?” Alexa asked, laughing. “What were you saying about pacing ourselves?”
“They’re my favourite, I’ve got them for the other two as well.”
The drinks came and Ellie looked at Alexa. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
They downed them at the same time. “God, that is nicer,” Alexa admitted.
“Can you see the other two?” Ellie asked, picking up the remaining two shots and looking around.
Alexa didn’t even bother looking. “Their loss,” she joked as she took one and held it up. “Cheers?”
Ellie shrugged…why not? “Cheers.” She clinked her glass against Alexa’s then they downed them, watching each other’s reaction. “I’m going to regret that in the morning.”
“Spring break,” was Alexa’s reply. She took Ellie’s hand. “Now we can dance?”
They pushed into the crowd from the bar side, quickly getting lost in the throng. The room was dark and packed enough that Ellie still couldn’t see the other two… just bodies, lights, movement, the really surprisingly good DJ building something that was pulling the whole room into it.
Alexa danced well, her body moving naturally, any self-consciousness seemingly eliminated by the shots they’d done and Ellie danced near her, feeling liberated by the sudden hit of alcohol flooding through her veins, the music good enough that she didn’t need to think about anything. Other people drifted in and out of their orbit. A guy danced with Alexa for a bit until his hand went to her hip and she dismissed him with a shake of the head, another danced with Ellie but she soon turned back to Alexa.
At some point Alexa shouted something about finding the others and disappeared into the crowd, and Ellie kept dancing, alone now but not feeling it, the press of bodies around her creating more than enough company.
Then a hand found her hip.
Not from the front but from beside her, a hand that settled on the curve of her hip. Ellie turned in surprise and Alexa was there, right there, having reappeared out of the crowd, her face close, her eyes catching the strobing light.
“Hey,” Alexa said, or mouthed… the music was too loud for it to matter which.
“Hey. Where’s Becca and Mia?”
Alexa nodded vaguely behind her, somewhere in the crowd, and then she was dancing with Ellie again, but close, closer than she needed to, her hand still on Ellie’s hip, their bodies finding a rhythm that had nothing to do with anyone else in the room, both of their inhibitions blown away by the sheer, semi-drunken euphoria of a good dance floor on spring break.
The song changed to something slower, heavier. The crowd moved around them. Alexa’s hand slid from Ellie’s hip to the small of her back and they were pressed together now, Alexa’s thigh between Ellie’s, their faces close enough that Ellie could feel Alexa’s breath and see the light catching the faint freckles on her nose.
Alexa was looking at her. Not a glance, not casually, this was direct and steady, a look that cut through the dark and the noise, and Ellie felt the realisation hit her, the sudden, dizzying recognition that this wasn’t friendly dancing.
Alexa wanted to kiss her.
What shocked Ellie, even through the buzz, was that she didn’t feel panic, she felt no instinct to step away or go to Becca, instead she felt something else: a deep, breathless need of her own that she hadn’t seen coming. She’d spent the whole evening enjoying the group, enjoying the four of them, and she hadn’t been watching for this, hadn’t been reading the signals, hadn’t let herself imagine that she was the one someone would want tonight. That was Becca that other women wanted, not her. And now Alexa’s face was inches from hers, and Alexa’s hand was on her back, and the desire was unmistakable.
Then Alexa leaned in and closed the gap.
Her lips were soft and tasted faintly of tequila and Alexa’s lip balm. The kiss was tentative, testing how she reacted, and for a few seconds while her mind struggled to catch up with this turn of events Ellie kissed her back on pure instinct… the unfamiliarity of a mouth that wasn’t Becca’s, the electricity of a new body pressed against hers, the sheer breathtaking novelty of it after seven years of kissing only one person.
Then her mind caught up and she stopped. Not sharply but gently, pulling back a few inches, her hands on Alexa’s shoulders, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Alexa’s expression flickered. “I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t apologise. Just… one second.”
