Page 28 of One Hotlanta Night
“Is he Spanish?” she asks, her eyes glinting. Like Skittles, she knows I’ve tasted the rainbow, but this would be a new flavor for me.
“Half Cuban, half German, actually.”
“That sounds like a whole lottaheatgoing on.”
“Oh, there was.” I wink.
“So was he a good dancer?”
“Oh, hell yes,” I gush. “He could totally tell I was lost and then he just turned me and twirled me and expertly moved my body on the dance floor. It was incredible. I’ve never felt so in tune with someone.”
“Ooh, that must’ve been… ‘nice,’” she teases and I roll my eyes. Never should’ve used that word to describe Michael. But Claire knows what dancing means to me. And how many times I’ve had to bail on going out because of a fibro flare up. So each time is special, and even better if I find someone who actually knows how to move…It was like a dream.
“It was, was it?” she smirks.
“What?” I ask, startled.
“You said it was like a dream.”
Dammit, I need to break this habit of speaking my thoughts aloud. “He was definitely a dream. He knew exactly what to do and wasn’t afraid to push me around to do it. I mean, to move my body where he wanted,” I add when her eyebrows go up.
“And we did this thing called bachata. I don’t know how to explain it besides saying it was like doing you-know-what to the music.” I lower my voice a bit so Raelynn can’t hear. Elmo is singing the ABC’s so I think we’re safe. That girl picks up on way more than her four years should, and I don’t want to put Claire in a position of having to explain things before she’s ready. She’s already smart enough to sound out the words we spell, so saying s-e-x would not go down well at her preschool. We’ve already gotten one phone call from her teacher asking why Raelynn was telling some kid to stop “pissing her off.” Even though she insisted that he was being a “butthole”.
“Really?” Claire’s eyes go wide as she claps a hand over her mouth, and I’m reminded it’s been a very long time since she was with someone. At least besides her battery-operated boyfriend, that is. I’ve never even known her to go on a date, although plenty of numbers wind up in the tip jar when she bartends.
She’s got her hands pretty full with Raelynn and the restaurant. And I know she’s been hesitant to bring anyone else into her life, especially with Raelynn getting older and voicing her opinion more. So I guess those discreet Adam & Eve packages that come in the mail occasionally must be enough for her. For now.
“Tell you what. You can come back to the club with me one night, and we can find a hot Latin guy to, ahem, ‘bachata’you.” I give her a cheesy grin.
“Uh-uh, you’re not going to change the subject on me that easily,” she shoots me down. “Tell me more about…Michael.” She drags his name out with soap-opera level flourish, giving me a pointed look.
“Claire, I can’t explain it. I mean, dancing with him was great and talking with him was too… well, we didn’t really do that much talking…” She outright laughs at this and I blush. “It wasn’t like that! We were just too busy dancing and smiling and laughing. He has a really nice smile.” I sigh.
My heart warms just thinking about how he looked at me. Like I was someone special.
“It was just… comfortable. Like I could be myself with him. It was exciting and new and also felt like we’d been doing this forever,” I finish. My words are all over the place and completely inadequate to describe the emotions Michael elicited from me. But that one big feeling remains, that certaintythat he’s right for me. Makes no sense whatsoever, but I can’t shake it.
“You’re doing it again,” Claire says, interrupting my musing.
“Doing what?”
“Talking in your head but saying it out loud. You just said he’s right for you.”
Ugh! I slap my hand to my forehead.Ugh, again. That hurt and I rub the spot.
“Hey, hey, I’m just teasing you,” she reassures me, placing a hand on my forearm and squeezing. “You must really like this guy,” she says softly.
“I do,” I admit, looking up at her. “I like him a little too much. And that scares the hell out of me. Single life is just simpler.”
“Listen, chica, you set that rule in place to give yourself some breathing room. From Trent and his bull-loney,” she glances quickly at Raelynn who is thankfully entranced with Mr. Rogers now, “and all those dudes in between.” She rolls her eyes at me. She’s not wrong. “It’s okay to give yourself some space anddistance to figure out what you want. You did that. But it doesn’t mean it has to be a one-way ticket to a celibate life, either.” This time it’s me raising my eyebrows at her. “I know, I know,” she admits. “I can dish it out but can’t take it. But having Raelynn makes things like that impossible—"
"Complicated, not impossible.”
“Whatever,” she shushes me. “It’s not the same thing and you know it. What I’m saying is that you may have put this rule in place to give you some structure, but don’t let that cut you off from opportunity.”
I sit back in my chair as I contemplate her words. “You know, I really expected you to give me a hard time about all this.”
“Um, exactly where were you last night when I was encouraging you to go out and actually talk to a member of the opposite sex?” I laugh because she’s right. She was playing wing woman before I even stepped out the door. “And what exactly isall this, then?” she asks, waving her hand between us. “Did you get his number?”
