Jessica
“Hey!”
Mimi’s voice brought me back down to the dance floor. Her cheeks were flushed from dancing and alcohol, and her long dark hair swished over her shoulders messily. I realized that I probably looked just as ridiculous.
“Where’s your new boyfriend?” Mimi asked.
I shrugged.
“I don’t know. He said he had to go.”
“Bummer.”
“Where’s April?”
“Out back, puking up her third margarita. I swear, that girl is such a lightweight.”
“She’s not alone out there, is she?” I asked quickly.
“Nah, James is with her.”
“Good.” I breathed out. I wasn’t a lightweight myself, but the bar here poured their drinks strong. The room was spinning whenever I turned around too quickly. I looked up again to see if the blond guy was still there up on the balcony, but there was nobody there.
“Hello? Hello? Earth to Jessica?”
“Sorry, what?”
“Did you want to come out and smoke with us?”
I frowned.
“You don’t smoke, Mimi.”
Mimi rolled her eyes and pinched two fingers to her lips, puffing her lips out.
“Not cigarettes, dummy.”
My jaw dropped.
“You don’t mean… pot?” I whispered the last word.
Mimi burst into drunken laughter.
“Claro que si!” she said, dancing around in circles and shaking her gold sequined hips. “La marijuana… la ganja…”
“Shh! Isn’t that illegal here?”
“Nah. It’s like, the national plant.”
“But—”
“I’ll see you later, okay? Or I’ll meet you back at the hotel tomorrow, just go with April and James.”
Before I could protest again, Mimi had skipped off toward the front entrance. She caught a guy around the waist and he laughed, pulling her close for a kiss. She squealed and slapped his ass. They left the club, falling all over each other.
Shit. I looked out to the front entrance, then back across the dance floor. April was outside, she’d said? I should go make sure she was okay. James was a good boyfriend sometime, but he didn’t have nearly the experience I did at holding back hair when a friend was puking up her guts.
As I looked around, it seemed like Miguel was nowhere to be found. My best chance at a hookup was gone, and I didn’t really care. I wasn’t about to lose my virginity to some random guy in Mexico, anyway. I felt bad about not thanking him again for the drink, and my mom’s voice rang in my head—Always be polite! Be grateful!
Well, I was grateful she wasn’t here to see me now.
I wandered back through the dance floor, pushing my way past writhing bodies to get to the back hallway. There, couples were pressed against the wall doing all kinds of things that I’d only read about in books. The bathroom door for the girls’ room was open, and I poked my head inside to see if April was there.
Two women looked up from the bathroom sink. Their eyes were glazed over, and I saw a smudge of white powder under the nose of the nearest one. She lifted an arm and spoke rapidly in Spanish.
“Sorry!” I said. I turned around and ran straight into a wall.
No, it wasn’t a wall. It was a man’s chest. A dark suit, so expensive that I cringed at the smudge of lip gloss that had come off on his lapel. As I lifted my head and opened my mouth for yet another apology, I froze.
It was the guy from upstairs. His eyes were icy blue, and his dark blond hair was slicked back. Every feature of his was drawn tight, but despite his cold expression, something in his face made my body respond instantly with warmth. I swallowed hard, my heart beating double time. There were words on my tongue, I just couldn’t find them. The way he was looking at me made my body clench with desire.
“Ex—excuse me,” I said. I licked my lips. “I was looking for my friend—”
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Dance with me.”
It was an order, not a question. The words went through my body with a shiver. He put an arm around my waist and drew me close to him as we moved back onto the dance floor.
The pressure of his hand against the small of my back sent thrills through my core. We swayed to the music, our hips in synchrony. I felt dizzy with desire as the beat thudded through my chest. His palm was hot, even through the fabric of my dress. Was that the reason I felt so overheated?
I looked up into ice blue eyes that bored into me like a drill. This guy—this guy wasn’t dancing with me, was he? His white shirt stretched out over a chiseled body that could have been a football quarterback’s. His arms were all muscle, and his features were dramatic and dark—dark eyebrows slanting over his light blue eyes, dark stubble on his jaw. He was beauty incarnate. As we moved to the music, I let him draw me closer.