“What’s with the umbrella?” I ask as O hands me my own drink that is sadly sans umbrella.
“Designated drivers are celebrated in Tempest,” Gil answers while he picks out the tiny decoration and puts it in my drink with a gentle smile. “Jonah is big on the getting home responsibly part of the nightlife. Designated drivers don’t get charged.”
Jonah manages to surprise me again. That’s actually really responsible of him. I wonder why more clubs don’t invoke these rules. I see O turning around from the periphery of my eye so that he’s standing with his back to me. It suddenly sinks in why these guys are so focused on no drunk driving. O’s parents died in a car crash when he was twenty-one when a drunk driver hit them in a head on collision. They died on the spot. Laurie and Mark were well loved by everyone, and their deaths were heartbreaking for the town. While Jonah wasn’t their biological child, they had always been parents to him. More so than his own mother. While I didn’t spend all that much time with the boys when it happened, my Mom had told me what a hard time the boys had after, so I knew a little of it.
I pick up the umbrella and roll the stick between my fingers and take a sip of my drink while I look at the dancing people. Some of them got moves. I startle when someone puts an arm around my shoulder. Looking up, I see that it’s Jonah. He gives me a kiss on my cheek and my face lights up with a big smile. He smells of some coconutty cologne that I like.
“Hey Mor,” is all he says while he keeps his arm around my shoulder and looks at the dancing people with me.
“Hey Jonah,” I answer. “I love what you’ve done with Tempest! It’s the best nightclub I’ve ever been to.”
“Yeah, you’ve been to a lot of nightclubs?”
“Not really,” I say while looking him straight in his hazel eyes. The fluorescent lights are reflected in them and make them sparkle.
“So it doesn’t really mean much that Tempest is the best?”
“On the contrary, you asswipe. Imagine that I’ve only been to ten nightclubs, and this was the worst I’ve ever been to. It would still suck and that’s not what you’d want, now would it?”
He smiles broadly, his fingers squeezing my shoulder and then he lets me go. He turns to the bar and orders a drink. He gets something without an umbrella in it, so I guess he’s allowed to drink while working. Perks of being the owner of the establishment, I guess. I take another sip of my own drink and it starts to warm my stomach.
My elbow gets pulled by a big hand that turns out to be attached to Dean. He leans forward to talk in my ear. “Less watching, more dancing.” I can’t help but go along in his enthusiasm and make myself walk to the dancefloor. Some remix of Bad habits by Ed Sheeran is playing and I’m incredibly proud of myself for even knowing which song it is. Dean pulls me with him and finds us a spot as he lifts my hand above my head, and he starts moving. I giggle. Oh my god, I actually giggle. Right then I feel like such a girl. Dean is smiling back at me though, his bright blue eyes sparkling with joy. I start going along with his movements and find myself dancing. Or well, it could be considered dancing. Let’s go with rhythmically wiggling. It's warm on the dance floor and I’m happy I went with the light makeup, it would have ended up everywhere if I had gone overboard.
Dean has some moves though. While he’s very tall, he knows how to make those long limbs move. He still has my hand in his hand, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to let it go anytime soon. He uses said hand to pull me closer to him and before I’m fully aware of what’s happening, we’re dancing together. His muscular body touches mine, and the hardness of it is noticeable even through our clothes. He makes it amazingly easy for me to dance along with him and I couldn’t be happier about that. With my nose close to him, I smell something that reminds me of pine trees. Not the kind of smell you’d get from an air freshener, but actual pine trees. It makes me bite my bottom lip. Just like with Gil the other week, the physical contact does something to me. I must be more touch deprived than I had realised before.
“You’re a good dancer,” he says as he pulls me even more snuggly against him under the cover of needing me to be close, to be able to talk with this loud music on.
I snort, glad I’m not taking a sip at that moment, because I would have spit it all out.
“I’m really not,” I answer while dancing on my tiptoes to be able to reach his ear with my mouth. “You just make it very easy to dance.”
He winks at me and turns me around so that I’m now dancing with my back to him. The wink did something to me, making my stomach squeeze together in nervous anticipation. That’s the feeling I’m looking for. That’s what I’ve been missing out on in all my years of looking for true love. And failing to find true love I should add. I missed out on the fun of harmless flirting. Normally I would be making a pro and con list right this second to see if I could imagine this going somewhere. But that’s not what I’m doing now. No love for Morgan at this moment. Love is having a time out in the naughty corner, while I’m over here, living my best life.
Dean is pressed against my back while he keeps dancing. His front feels comfortable against it. It’s warm though. Hot even. My body shivers when he releases a breath against my neck. I find myself tilting my head slightly, subconsciously looking for more of that experience. Dean doesn’t disappoint.
When I take another sip of my drink and look up, I see that Gil and O are standing to the side of the dance floor. Gil is leaning back against the wall with his drink in his hand, scanning the dance floor while bobbing his head. When our eyes meet, he raises his glass and smiles. A slight blush rushes to my cheeks, because it’s like he caught me doing something I shouldn’t be doing, but then again, he was looking at me as well. I raise my glass back to him and answer his smile, while biting the side of my bottom lip. O is standing next to Gil with a girl on his arm that is leaning into him to talk into his ear. Her hand is resting on his chest, and he has his arm around her. She looks like she walked out of a magazine. She’s pristine. Obviously, she has no problem with going heavy on the makeup or going out in 5 inch heels. Good for her. Jonah is standing beside the bar and talking to one of the bartenders. They’re laughing about something, and I see the boy I used to know.
I turn my attention back to Dean, who has somehow made his empty drink disappear and now has his hand on my hip. I push my ass against him as we both move rhythmically to yet another remix of Sail by AWOLNATION. My cheeks start to flush when his hard-on is pressed against my back. His thumb strokes over my hip and my mind wanders to where I want his hands to actually go. My heart is thumping a lot harder in my chest than it normally does. Am I really doing this? Casually, sexy dancing with some hot guy I just met a week ago, who I have no intention of getting together with? Turns out the answer is yes. My mind tries to wander to a place where I’ll start to overthink this, but I make myself go in the other direction and just surrender myself to dancing and being in the moment. I mentally high five myself. I can go with the flow.
“Let’s get another drink?” Dean says and his lips touch my ear. It takes me a second to process what he says over focusing on the touch of his lips on my skin. I kind of want the sensation to last. I nod and start walking back to the bar.
We go to the side where the guys are gathered. The girl O is talking to is practically trying to climb him. He looks at me when I come near, and I give him a knowing smirk. He rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the girl.
“Thank God, you’re coming to save me from dying of boredom,” Gil says when I stand next to him as Dean orders us new drinks. Gil moves into my personal space and I find myself leaning into him. His nose ring glistens in the lights that shines over us every now and again. The silver trinket looks superb on Gil.
“Why don’t you come dance if you’re bored?”
“I’m way too sober to dance. Dancing isn’t my thing. I’ll join you next week, when I’ve had a few.”
“You’re assuming I’ll be here next week?”
“You’re having fun aren’t you? Is there any reason not to be here next week?”
Other than me being a hermit? Nope. No good reason not wanting to come next week. Was this my new Friday night? Do I have to say goodbye to Fridays on the couch with a book? Damn, do I have to score more party outfits? I will draw the line at learning how to dance in real heels. My feet are used to their comfort, thank you very much.
“I guess we’ll have to see those moves next time,” I give in. I squint my eyes when I look him in the eye. They’re dark and brown and I could happily drown in them. Wasn’t drowning considered one of the most peaceful deaths anyway?
I look up as a thought hits me.