Page 19 of To Feel Like This Again
A few songs later she leans into me without skipping a beat and put her hands around my neck, my hands moving to her waist. We grind for a while, chugging our drinks at opportune times until it is time to refuel.
“Another rum and coke?” I ask, pointing to the empty cup.
She nods, “Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll be back in few,” I promise, eager to be all over her again as I mow my way through the crowd. I don’t even bother to say sorry this time.
The bartender serves up my drinks in no time, leaving the other people disgruntled. The two chicks beside me are cute, so I give them my drinks and order two more.
By the time I get back to the spot, the genre has switched to soca and Lisa is sandwiched between Alexia and Michelle, having the time of her life. With both her hands pointing to the sky, she is singing along toRoll it Galby Allison Hinds, which I’m sure she’s never heard before, but hey, the chorus is catchy and vibesy — Google it if you don’t believe.
I watch her for a while, having the time of her life.Then, selfishly, I tap her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “My time now”, and slip between Alexia and her, giving her the drink which by this time is half empty after bumping into several people along the way back (actually, let’s say half full, since I’m speaking my lucky night into being). I get back to grinding, with Lisa gripping Michelle’s waist for support.
All night, we go at it … hit song, after hit song. And when R&B takes centre stage, bathed in sweat, I turn her around to face me and place my hands firmly on her ass. She flings her hands around my neck and we slow dance.
Say no more.
At 2:00am, the selector switches to pop music… that is, the party is winding down. So, the crew makes its way out.
“Girl, you need to come out with us again,” Jody tells Lisa as we exit the hotel holding hands.
“Yea, you’re fun,” Alexia jumps in, sounding borderline sober.
“She’s my dancing partner for life,” Michelle chimes in, doing a little dance on Lisa.
“I’m definitely going partying with you in New York,” Terri insists. “What’s your number?” And she and Lisa exchange contacts.
We say our goodbyes and cross the street to get food on the roadside. The real deal.
“That looks like the cylindrical metal pan I saw on my way from the airport to the hotel,” she says excitedly, pointing at thedrum pan(a metal barrel, laid horizontally on a stand, that has been cut in half from top to bottom, both halves attached by hinges — like a barrel charcoal grill).
“Yea, that’s pan chicken. You’re going to love it,” I laugh.
“Extra pepper and ketchup on mine please,” I tell the vendor, pointing to the breast and wing.
“Extra ketchup for me please,” Lisa says, pointing to the leg and thigh.
You see what I did there?
We collect the food and make our way to the car.
“Thanks for an amazing day,” she enthuses, looking out the passenger window as I turn onto the main road.
“You’re welcome, hun.” And I hold her hand for the rest of the drive back to the beach house.
“It’s nice outside tonight,” she prompts as we pull into the driveway, the ocean coming into view. Or at least what you could make of it in the dark.
“Yea. Let’s eat down by the beach,” I suggest, unfastening my seatbelt.
“I’d like that.”
After grabbing a beach towel from inside the house, we head down to the beach, stopping at two plastic lounge chairs set out side by side near the edge of the sea. I sit up in one, she sits in the other… and we begin to eat and talk.
That doesn’t last long.
“You’re too far from me,” and reaching over, I hold her hand. “Come over here and sit on my lap,” patting my thigh for emphasis.
“You’re so bossy.” She smiles and does as I tell her.
