Page 15 of One Hotlanta Night
Even if the hot stranger is the most attractive thing I’ve seen all day… or ever, if I’m being honest.
I can’t let myself look back at him. I know in my soul that this man could obliterate me.
Don’t look. Move away.
Even though my body is screaming at me to go to him.
You’re stronger than this, I tell myself. But my short breaths tell me I’m lying.
As if answering my prayer, the DJ announces that he’s taking a break and puts on a generic mix of popular music. Here’s mychance to pull myself together. Matt’s still in my vicinity but at least he’s backed off, hovering on the edges. Smart boy.
The simple instrumental melody must be the cue to grab a drink because half the dance floor empties and heads toward the bar. As I start to move in the same direction, my resolve falters and I look back. The club must have filled to capacity while we were dancing, because try as I might, I can’t locate Mr. Intense & Handsome through the throng of bodies. Craning my head and raising up to my tiptoes, I scan the room left to right, but nothing. He must not be looking at me because I don’t feel any tingles, any zinging in my spine.
Did I imagine the whole encounter?
Is it a full moon?
I’ve never felt such a live wire of attraction to anyone before. Maybe my mind’s playing tricks on me.
That would really suck.
I don’t want to acknowledge the pang of disappointment in my chest, so when Matt takes my hand to go back to the bar, I reluctantly let him.
The cloud of colognes and perfumes we pass through is stifling. My lungs still feel tight, my skin still heated from seeing that beautiful specimen of a man. Pressing my hand to my chest, I will myself to slow my breathing but nothing helps.Chill, girl.
Matt snags a vacated bar stool and sits down instead of offering me the seat, which annoys me even further. He tries to tug me to stand in between his legs. His hand is cool and sweaty at the same time; it feels reptilian and gross on my arm and I can’t help my flinch. My breathing is hot and heavy, but it’s not for him. The guyhasbeen decent, but his manners could definitely use some work.
I blow out a breath, barely resting on the outside of his knee, trying to catch my breath and reorient my thoughts. My skin bristles as I feel Matt’s clammy hand try to slip its way aroundmy waist again. Pretty boy’s feeling bold, is he? Time to ditch this guy.
Pushing myself out of reach, I give a tight smile. “Too hot for that.” His face falls a smidge, but I haven’t actually been flirting with the dude. Being nice and letting him talk is not the same as flirting. It’s common decency.
“Listen, Matt, it’s been fun hanging with you,” I lie, deciding to cut this one off at the head, especially before he starts trying to rub up on me with hisotherhead. Even if I can’t find that hot stranger again, any more time spent with Matt would only give him the wrong idea. His expression confirms it as his eyes widen as he waves a hand back and forth in between us.
“But… am I misreading things here?” he asks, trying to recover.
“I just got out of something, and I’m not looking for anything right now—not even for a night,” I cut him off as his mouth opens to speak. Matt’s eyes flare and he abruptly stands up and says he’s going to go take a piss. As if he didn’t have enough marks against him, this would be the final one, because,eww, gross. Too much time with frat boys does not mean I enjoy being treated as one, and I quickly let him by. Can’t be entirely sure, but I think I hear him snarl, “Bitch,” under his breath as he stalks away.
Smell ya later. I quickly hop up on the seat he vacated and let my eyes wander the crowd, taking in all the sights and sounds. And maybe also because I’m still looking for my mystery man.
Where did this “my” come from? And really, should I be so pressed about a guy I haven’t even met?
But thatconnection… I want to be burned by it again.
As I’m distracted by the vibrant colors and rapid Spanish surrounding me, it hits me. These people are so damn happy. Like they’re truly embracing life. They probably worry and stress like the rest of us, but from the smiles on their faces and thelightness of their feet, you’d never know it. And I want some of what they’ve got.
Standing and lifting up on my toes trying to gain a few inches, I scan slowly from left to right. Nothing. Shit. Maybe he left. The thought bothers me more than I’m willing to admit. I make one more pass, straining to locate those fierce eyes and dark hair, but no luck.
Resigning myself to making a post in the Missed Connections section of Craigslist, I weigh my options. Time for another shot? I haven’t hit my quota, and the night is still young. I’m considering a different brand of tequila when the DJ steps back up to the sound booth. He must be a favorite because the crowd erupts in applause, and I join in. Compared to the beginning of the night, I feel a lot more comfortable now, even if I don’t have a dance partner. Waiting for another Spanish song to play, I’m shocked when I hear the unmistakable lines of “Bootylicious” ring out.
By the time Destiny’s Child has declared no one “can handle this,” I’ve done a one-eighty and landed myself in the center of the crowd. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s shaking my ass, and this has been my go-to anthem the whole year. Or so says Claire.
It’s nice to have a few familiar songs interspersed with the Latin beats. My insecurities melt away as my hips and legs drop low to the familiar rhythm, no fancy footwork required. I shimmy and shake, finding a group of girls smiling and hyping each other up. We rock back and forth, smacking asses at random and teasing each other. I smile so hard my jaw hurts, but I don’t care one bit. Dance makes best friends out of total strangers. We’re making fools of ourselves and couldn’t care less.
From the center of the throng, I have a good vantage spot. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still keeping an eye out for my sexystranger, on the off chance he’s still hanging around. I can’t get him out of my head. Why did he feel so familiar, even from a distance? I’m sure I’ve never seen him before, IknowI wouldn’t have forgotten.
He’s gorgeous, yes, but it’s more than that. He looked at me like he wanted to invade my head, my heart, my whole body.
Like he has come home.
