Page 64 of Things I Overshared
Trina pulls out her phone and yells to me, “You care if Damian and his hot buddies join us?”
“Sure!” I say, excited to add more people to the fun. Damian could be a nice distraction from the confusing mix of feelings and thoughts bumping through me to the beat of the music. She fires back a reply to him, and we head to the dance floor. I don’t know how many songs have passed, during which we jump, sway, and even grind on each other a tiny bit, before we head to the bar again.
“Hey, gorgeous!” I turn and see Damian and his two friends. Trina was right. They are hot. “This is Will and Zander. Guys, this is Samantha and Trina.”
“Hey, you found us!” Trina calls over the music.
“Hi!” I give them a wave.
Damian steps up to buy drinks, unimpressed with my beer order. “I’ll watch your drink for you, gorgeous. You can get what you like,” he yells over the music.
“Thanks, but I’m good!” I say. I don’t know him well enough for that, but I appreciate his offer to look out for me. We suck down our drinks and head to dance once their glasses aren’t spilling over. I stick with Trina for the most part, even though Damian moves in behind me a few times. It’s sexy, for sure, but I’m not totally comfortable with it. As much as I love going out, dancing for me is usually a girls’ night situation. I move around and dance with everyone, keeping things light.
After a few songs, we head back to the bar, but I make a detour for the bathroom. Trina either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t know wing woman code, because she doesn’t follow. I make quick work of finding the restroom, doing my business, and getting back to my friend.
I don’t love navigating the club alone. I’m not sure if I’m being more paranoid than usual or reasonably cautious. Probably the latter since I’m in a foreign city with people I barely know.Yikes.I probably should’ve asked Emerson to join us.
I find Damian back at the bar, but no Trina.
“Where’s Trina?” I ask him.
He puts his hands on my waist to answer me. “She’s dancing with Will. C’mon, what’ll you have to drink? A real drink this time!”
“Just another beer, please.” I smile, then pull out my phone as a way to get free of his hands on me.
“Psh, bit of a downer, gorgeous, but okay!” He motions to the bartender and puts his other hand back on my waist.
I get my beer, but it’s opened already. I frown.
“C’mon, babe, let’s go dance.” His hand squeezes my hip and moves down closer to my ass as he talks into my ear.
I shake my head with a smile. “I think I’ll drink this one here. I need a dance break.”
“What! Now, now, we’re here to dance, babe, so let’s dance.” He starts to really grip me, and I pull back, feeling my pulse starting to hammer in my veins. Every warning bell in my brain is sounding off.
I push his hand off mine and shove it toward the dance floor. “You go on ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“C’mon, gorgeous, you know you want to dance with me.” His smile tightens, and his gaze turns predatory as he takes a big step toward me. Then a body is in between us.
“Piss off, Damian, she’s with me.” Emerson, suddenly rescuing me again, slips a hand around my waist. “Sorry I’m late, Angel,” he says loudly to me and plants a kiss on the side of my forehead. My brain melts completely at the feel of his soft lips on my skin.
“Oh, shit, you two are . . . ?”
“We are.” Emerson’s voice is icy and low as he pulls me into him. In a swift motion, my back is tucked flush into his front, with both of his arms firm around my middle, but leaving his grip loose where my bruise is. I am immediately drenched in desire at the feel of his body all over my back and the possessiveness of his voice.
“Sorry, mate, I didn’t realize,” Damian offers, but Emerson just stares him down. Damian withers and gives me a small duck of his head, turns around, and walks to the dance floor.
Emerson releases me the second Damian is out of sight, and I feel a small crack inside as it happens. It was as if when he’d said the words, that I waswithhim, the rose-colored hope I hadn’t fully let myself admit, of some futurewithEmerson, was cemented into something real; but when he pulled away, it suffered a very real, painful blow.
Another hit lands across my hopes when I turn to face him. His face is twisted up in a million emotions, all negative.
“Thank you,” I yell up to him. My eyes search his for something, anything to tell me I’m not imagining everything, yet again. But my search comes up empty.
“Do you want to stay?” he asks, his jaw tight. I shake my head. He looks behind me at the bar. “Tab?” I nod and turn to the bar, but he steps in front of me and gives my name.
I touch Emerson’s arm, and he tenses under me. “Let me just get Trina!” He nods without looking down at me. I find my friend in the horde of bodies and yell in her ear. “Damian got handsy. I’m gonna go.” She apologizes, but I tell her it’s fine and that she should leave with us. As she starts to explain that she has two more girlfriends on their way to meet us, she looks above my head.
I feel his firm chest behind my back again, and I smell his scent and lean back into him involuntarily. He doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t push me off. Trina gives me a smile, and I snap out of what my body is doing to me, then give her a quick hug goodbye.
