"What?" Theresa blinks. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing; just a film reference joke. It’s from one of my classmates in England—Summer West, was her name. She was so into movies, all of her conversations were peppered with movie trivia. Some of it rubbed off on me."
"You moved to Italy to be close to your daughter, didn't you?" she asks.
"It was the only way I could see her." My lips firm.
"Sorry, didn't mean to upset you."
"No, it's fine." I shoot her a smile so patently fake, Theresa winces. She opens her mouth, no doubt, to ask me what’s wrong, but I shake my head. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"
I hook my arm through hers, and we follow Seb into the nightclub.
A wave of noise hits us as we walk down the short flight of steps and into the large room. The beats echo throughout the space, sink into my blood, and sync with my heartbeat. The scent of perfume, sweat, and sex hang in the air like a heavy cloud that’s going to burst at any moment. The space is crammed with men and women, from the bar to the dance floor and across it. It resembles a mass of humanity all welded together by their common desire to dance and fuck.
"Umm, I’m not sure I want to be here." Theresa begins to turn away.
I grab her arm and pull her along with me.
"Elsa, please," she begins to protest.
I turn on her. "Do you want to stay home moping for your Sovrano?"
"N-no..." She hunches her shoulders.
"This was your idea. Clearly, you want to prove a point to yourself. Let's loosen up a little and have some fun, okay?"
She sighs and I drag her into the sweltering hot cavern.
That’s when I realize I haven’t seen Mr. Alphahole Bodyguard for a while. For a big man, he sure seems to disappear with ease. Well, that’s good. At least, I don’t have to worry about his glowering looks. Or hiding the attraction I feel toward him, which is surely a mistake. Why should I feel so drawn to a man who clearly hated me on sight?
The strobe lights dance over us as I elbow my way through the crowd. I keep a firm grip on her, until I reach the very center of the dance floor. Bodies push in on us from all sides. Sweat beads my brow and trickles down my temple. My dress clings to my back. I grip Theresa’s arms and we sway in tandem to the music. The beat ricochets around my head and I close my eyes, letting the rhythm overpower me. Releasing her, I turn around, then lean forward and jut out my hips as I squat down. With a snap of my lower body, I push out my butt and straighten. For a few seconds, I am one with the cadence of the beats. I shimmy my upper body, long-forgotten dance steps that I picked up through my university years flowing back to me.
When was the last time I allowed myself to flow with the music with such abandon? I cut it all out of my life. Abstained from anything that could be fire up my urges. Yet here I am, back in the eye of the storm, and... The feeling is so heady. A ripple of awareness flutters under my skin, I pop open my eyelids. The crowd in front of me shifts and I spot Seb at the bar.
His gaze clashes with mine, intensifies, and for a second, it’s just me and him. All other sounds fade away. I try to breathe, but all of the oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room. My lungs burn, my scalp tingles, a throb of heat swells my core. My lips part and those golden eyes of his seem to flare… With rage? I’m a sucker for punishment, for a shiver zings down my spine. My thighs clench and my core dampens.
Then the crowd moves again, and I lose sight of him.
"Elsa," I hear Theresa call my name above the music, "Elsa."
I turn to find her watching me with a disagreeable expression on her face.
"Come on, babe." I throw my arms about her. "You need to loosen up a little." I grind my hips into hers with an exaggerated flourish.
"What are you doing?" She laughs as I pull back, then twirl her around and back in. Then I turn my back on her and do another bump and a grind.
"Elsa, I need to get off the dance floor." She grips my shoulder.
"Aww, and I was just beginning to have fun," I gripe. And really, I am. For the first time in a very long time, I finally feel so close to the edge.
"Well, I’m not." She scowls.
I take in her flushed features, the sweat on her brow. "Hmm, I know what you need." I grab her hand, and we push through the crowd, until we burst out of the throng.
"Phew, it’s hot in here." She pushes the hair off of her neck.
"I know how to cool off." I head for the bar, and she follows me. I get the attention of the bartender. "Two tequilas, please." Within minutes, he places two shots in front of us then slides over a plate with salt and lime.