Page 23 of All at Once

Luca’s brows crease as he redirects his attention to the bar. “Who? You’re pointing to like five people.”

I extend my hand, trying to gesture more accurately. “Her. The one who can’t stop talking to Enrique.”

“That’s Clara. His ex-wife.”

I glare at him. “That’s not funny.”

“I thought it was,” he says, looking impressed with himself. “They’ve been friends since university.”

“Have they hooked up?” I ask, not buying the whole “friend” thing.

“I’m not going to talk about my friend’s dating life with you,” Luca replies as he narrows his eyes at me before he nods his head toward Enrique. “Why don’t you just ask him yourself?”

“I don’t want him to think that I care,” I say.

“Because it’sobviousthat you don’t,” he says, clearly seeing past my words as I continue to frustratingly watch them mingle.

Then the same girl who was focused on Luca walks over again, cutting our conversation short.

At least Enrique’s back now. “Cheers,” he says with a grin while handing me a shot glass.

I’ve always rejected shots or any alcohol for that matter at clubs. It’s a little bit of paranoia, but it’s more so the taste of alcohol. It’s never been my cup of tea. Another thing to add to the ongoing feelings of isolation in my twenties so far.

Even though I’m old enough to not be as easily influenced by peer pressure, I surprise myself and say, “Cheers,” before I drink the shot, something about this setting making me think less than I normally would. Hoping that it’ll also kill some of my nerves.

“Want to see me make a complete fool of myself while I dance? I’m terrible at it,” Enrique says, sensing that he’s trying to break the ice from earlier.

“I doubt that. Since you’re cute, I’m sure someone will still find it endearing.” One shot is apparently enough for me to blurt said words.

Enrique smirks. “You think I’m cute?”

“You think I’d be here if I didn’t?” I confess.

“I’m happy you’re here.” He keeps saying that but has yet to prove it. “So that now we can dance together.”

Okay. That’s good enough for me.For now.

I can feel Clara’s eyes piercing through me as Enrique leads us toward the dance floor. I can’t say that I blame her though. I’d look far worse if the guy that I’m infatuated with is about to dance with someone else. Especially if said guy looks anything like Enrique. A fraction of me wants to let them dance together instead since I’m so nervous.

From the loud music to the almost undetectable space between other club goers, it’s not the most ideal place to communicate with words, and unfortunately for me, this is my kryptonite. Especially when traveling to uncharted waters. Will we dance? Or does he just expect us to grind? After all, I’m the idiot that told him she loves togrind to real music. This is why I have no business flirting.

Starting with casual dancing, Enrique then switches to moves that are intentionally done to elicit laughter from me. And it works.

He moves in a little closer, and I try to do the same with my noticeably faster heart rate. My reaction to the sweat dripping down his warm skin through his slightly unbuttoned shirt must be affecting my body language when Enrique gently takes my hand before twirling me around so that now my back is pressed against his broad chest.Okay, so we’re doing this then. Don’t panic.

He refrains from moving against me though. It’s nice that he’s giving me the control, but I also wish he would initiate first since I don’t even knowwhereto fucking start. Completely winging it, I lean a little forward while pushing up against him slightly and then begin moving slowly from side to side. Unsure if I’m doing anything correctly, I must be doing something right when Enrique’s firm hands grip onto the curve of my hipbone frombehind. Heat immediately fills my stomach, only continuing to build at the reminder of the placement of his hand on my body.

It occurs to me how I quite literally just threw myself at a situation full force like ripping off a band-aid. And while it’s a little thrilling, I’m alsofreaking the fuck out.

The shot must have helped though since the longer we’re moving, the less nervous I’m feeling. As the music starts getting louder, my timid movements are matched by his. Growing just a tiny more confident, I pick up the pace slightly, and he follows. The friction between us continues to heighten when I feel a vibration near my ear. My lips slightly part from the sensation that tickles down my neck, leading me to tilt up at him, still enamored by his height. Enrique’s smirk confirms that I didn’t do a terrible job.

“You’re a really good dancer,” he tells me through flushed cheeks.

The warmth in my face only increases as I reply, “That’s because this isreal music.” And then immediately cringe on the inside at my words.

His dimples makes up for his laugh that I cannot hear.

After we leave the dance floor, we join Luca and the rest of their group at what appears to be a lounge area that’s part of the club. Feeling more comfortable knowing that we’re going to be in a setting where we can easily talk again, I’m also relieved that the part I was most anxious about has already passed.

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