Page 89 of Rebound
She doesn’t look the least bit sorry and the two douchebags finally get the hint as they walk away. She turns to me, still smiling like the fucking sun and I realise I was a fool for thinking I wasn’t in love with her.
“You’re so naughty, Trick.”
I laugh. “Your mere existence turns me into an animal in heat.”
“Feral,” she whispers and I nod. “I love it.”
“Good. This is what you’ve done to me and you have to live with it.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Happily. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too, Lo,” I whisper and kiss the tip of her nose. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too. Was it a good trip?”
“Eh. Could have been an email. Anyway, what’s going on here?”
“It’s a silent disco?1,” she tells me, eyes bright. That’s when I notice how much of her bump is visible and my hand lands on it gently. She covers my touch and points to the front of the room. “All the headphones are connected to the DJ console and since there are two of them, you can choose between the different genres of music they’re playing.”
“You do this often?”
“It happens only once every few months and I always miss it. Got a special invite this time.” She links our fingers and leads the way to the front. I follow, not entirely sure why this is a thing, but it makes her happy, so I’ll do it. She grabs two headphones and a laminated sheet before returning to me. Gesturing for me to bend, she hooks one around my neck.
“Okay, so if you tap the left side, you’ll hear all of the latest pop hits. The right side is music from the 70s to the early 2000s,” she tells me, turning the sheet over for me to see.
I go through the kind of music they’ll be playing and decide what they label as ‘classics’ are more my speed. Someone makes an announcement about the DJs taking a five minute break if we want to get drinks, so I pocket the list and take her hand. At the bar, I buy two glasses of soda and lime. When it’s two minutes to starting, we pull our headphones on and the lights instantly change. It makes Tamara glow and I watch as she grooves, the brightest smile on her lips.
Marry me, Lotus. Spend forever with me.
She grins and holds out a hand, so I take it and let her drag me into the crowd. I’m not a dancer, but when Madonna comes on, you automatically start moving. I can tell she’s listening to the other DJ because of the way her body flows. I let her dance alone, swaying and shaking to her music, her face so bright as she mouths along to the words. I know there are other people around us, but I couldn’t tell you anything about them—she has all my attention.
She hands me her drink and grabs the sides of her skirt, sashaying and spinning. Her eyes meet mine briefly as she raises her arms over her head and twirls slowly. I sip on my drink, but don’t taste anything other than Tamara—her flavour still lingers on my tongue. Madonna switches to Whitney and her movements sync with the music. It wouldn’t even matter if she didn’t match the music, she looks so happy.
I’m suddenly bumped backwards as everyone forms a line. I lose Tamara in the chaos, but watch as she takes her place and attempts to keep up. Given that a lot of people are participating in this choreographed number, I’m guessing it happens all the time. Their feet shuffle too fast and they’re spinning and clapping. I don’t know where to look first, but Tamara seems to have finally caught on. She moves fluidly, like she’s been doing this her whole life. I should have known she’d be a damn good dancer.
The song changes to something slower and everyone disperses. Tamara looks around in confusion for a second before her face lights up when she finds me. She stretches her arms out and wiggles her fingers, so I allow myself to be drawn back to her. Her arms wind around my neck and I drag mine around her waist, careful not to drop our drinks. I stare into her eyes, moving as she does. It’s the only way I can dance. She tugs one side of the headphones off for herself and does the same for me.
“Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah.”
“Sound a little more convincing, Trick.”
I chuckle and rub my nose against hers. “I like seeing you happy, Lo.”
“We can go if you want,” she says and I shake my head.
“I like this, I promise. Dancing is not my strong suit, but I’m enjoying being here with you.”
“You’ll tell me when you’ve had enough, yeah?”
Never. “Of course.”
Our headphones are tugged back into place and she rests her forehead against my chest as the slow song continues. When it starts to pick up, Tamara still stays with me, arms around my waist. The music changes again—and I have to admit the DJ is really good with his transitions and smooth shifts into different tracks—and Tamara straightens up, dropping her headphones around her neck. I do the same with mine as she finishes her drink and burps. I chuckle and kiss her forehead as she leans into me.
“Trick?”
“Yeah, Lo?”
