Page 4 of Sworn to My Heart
Feeling feminine and empowered, I entertain the hope of attracting a handsome man tonight, maybe even someone like that enigmatic stranger. Despite my curiosity, I decide it’s safer to keep my distance; his aura screamed danger, something I couldn’t afford right now.
Glancing around the dance floor, I search for any approaching men. I want to let loose tonight, but I’m surprised that no one was making a move.
“Are we in a gay production, or did I grow two arms on my forehead that are preventing men from approaching me?” I shout into Cora’s ear, and she laughs.
“It’s not us, it’s Mariano. No one wants to piss off the owner by getting close to his wife,” she says with a shrug. “It’s better for us, we have more space to dance.”
She continues dancing happily while I survey the room, noticing several men stealing glances in my direction. Thanks to her, I won’t be leaving with anyone tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve been with a man; tonight, I am determined to find a fling.
Since arriving in Manhattan, I’ve been on a few dates that led to bed a few times, but none have truly captivated me orgone anywhere. Mostly, I avoided getting too attached. Tonight, however, I am resolute on finding someone to end the night with.
I look back at the men casting curious glances, silently inviting them to come closer.
I continue to dance when I feel a pair of hands grasp my hips from behind and move with me in a close dance.
The scent of his cologne awakens my senses.
“Finally, someone got a bit of courage,” I say to myself in a drunken whisper and glance at the security guards who have taken a step toward us, not taking their eyes off us, ensuring he doesn’t get too close to Cora.
I ignore them and turn to see who the brave one is.
My face encounters the chest of a tall, slightly muscular man. When I look up, his short, wavy brown hair playfully falls on his forehead as he looks down at me. His eyes are a honey-brown, and his facial features are delicate yet unmistakably masculine. I decide he is tonight’s winner and continue dancing closely with him. Cora pushes another shot into my hand, and in less than a second, it’s gone. Immediately afterward, I bring my face closer to his.
“Looks like you’re lucky enough to take me home tonight,” I drunkenly whisper in his ear, watching the corners of his mouth curl into a sly smile.
“If that’s my luck, I regret not buying a lottery ticket. I’m Shane,” he says into my ear. I laugh and teasingly whisper back, “Alin.”
He takes my hand, and we sit at the bar.
Cora is still lost in dancing, oblivious to her surroundings. Despite her state, with the security guards around, I’m not too concerned about her.
Turning my attention back to Shane, we exchange brief introductions shout over the blaring music. He reveals he’s 31, and upon learning that his apartment is just two blocks from mine, I tactfully avoid giving him my address and suggest we head to his place instead.
People always thought I’m naïve for going wherever I want, whenever I want, with such ease, but they don’t know and will never know why I’m not afraid of it.
I can take care of myself very well; it’s others who need to worry about me most of the time.
I ask Shane to wait for me at the bar while I make my way back to Cora.
“I’m about to leave, are you staying?” I ask her, pointing in Shane’s direction.
She grins mischievously and shouts drunkenly, “Ooooh, he looks like quite a catch! Let me know how his ‘weapon’ is!” She chuckles. “I’m fine. As you can see, I’ve got protection here. I’ll head back to Mariano soon. Go on ahead.” I hug her and return to the bar, scanning for Shane, only to find he’s no longer there.
I sigh in frustration when suddenly a hand rests on my shoulder. I turn excitedly, expecting to see Shane, but my smile fades as I am greeted by the familiar face of the stranger who had captivated me earlier.
“Expecting someone else?” he asks with an arrogant smile that irritates me.
“None of your business, Mister...?” I reply venomously, trying to get his name.
“Luca, for you. Alin, right?” he asks with amusement, but his gaze still feels threatening. The alcohol in my veins doesn’t filter my responses, and I immediately reply, “A perfect memory for the perfect man, quite the package deal.”
Now a genuine smile spreads across his face. “So, you think I’mperfect?” he asks teasingly, awakening my body again, and in my drunken state, I want to slap myself for not knowing when and how to keep quiet.
His gaze holds me captive, and I fight the urge to step back and create distance. Ignoring him seems like the smart, sober choice for now, despite the difficulty.
Rolling my eyes, I continue searching for Shane, feeling my body protest the gap I’ve created between us.
“You won’t find him,” he throws at me as if reading my thoughts, and I try to understand who he’s talking about, but decide not to respond. I don’t trust my mouth right now. Taking a step toward the exit, his hand suddenly grips mine, yanking me back forcefully. I lose my balance and fall against his chest, my back to him.
