2. Lucia
“ L ucia! Dinner’s ready,” my mom called from the kitchen.
I avoided looking at the boxes in my room and headed downstairs. By the time I made it to the table, my four younger sisters were already seated, and my mom was serving sancocho, one of my favorite meals.
I sat down with a sigh, and my mom served me some rice before pouring the rich stew over the top. “Don’t start.”
My sisters began eating. “I don’t want to move.”
“I know, Lucia. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about moving.”
I rolled my eyes. “I shouldn’t have to move. I’m twenty-five years old. I should be able to make my own decisions.”
She scoffed. “You are the eldest daughter of a cartel lord. You know things are different for you.”
In our culture, it was traditional for adult children, especially daughters, to stay with their parents until marriage. And since my dad had no sons, I was next in line to take over the family business even though I wanted nothing to do with it. “It’s not fair. Dad wasn’t anything until Uncle Matteo died.”
My mom responded with a humorless chuckle. “Life rarely is fair, Lucia. We just have to deal with what it gives us.”
My parents were Colombian, but my sisters and I were born in Miami, where we lived our entire lives. Now, my dad just expected us to uproot everything and move to Mexico to take over my uncle’s cartel operation.
But I had a plan.
My dad had been traveling back and forth to Mexico in preparation for our move. He’d just left two days prior and was set to return in a week to finalize everything and move my mom, sisters, and me to our new home.
I was planning to leave before he got back. Eventually, he’d send some of his men to find me and have me brought to Mexico, but I wanted to try and make it on my own, even if I failed and had to deal with the consequences.
I’d been planning a road trip with my best friend, Elise, from Miami to Seattle, stopping along the way at notable spots, including Texas, to meet my favorite author at a book signing, and Vegas.
And hopefully, at the end of our road trip, I would be able to start a brand new life, a life free of my father and his controlling ways where I could make decisions for myself instead of having them made for me.
I’d found a little apartment in Seattle, Washington, and I doubted my dad would look for me there. But if he did, it was a short drive to the Canadian border, and hopefully, my new passport would get me across before he caught me.
I’d used part of my savings to put down the deposit on the two-bedroom apartment and was set to move in in a few weeks. Elise had helped me with everything. Her parents were uber wealthy and had connections everywhere. She was able to get all the documentation I needed for my new identity. So if we made it that far, I would erase everything that made me Lucia Alvarez and start over as Elizabeth Gonzales.
And I’d never look back.
The next night, after my mom and sisters went to sleep, I snuck out of the house with all my important belongings and met Elise down the street. She was in a small SUV that I didn’t recognize.
When I got in, I asked, “Whose car is this?”
Elise smiled as she drove off. “Yours.”
My eyebrows flew up. “What?”
My best friend giggled. “Yep. A little going-away gift from me to you.”
The car was newer, probably less than five years old, and looked great. “Elise, I can’t. This is way too much. You’ve already helped me more than I could ever repay you for.”
She waved me off. “Lucy, you’ve been my best friend since kindergarten. I love you and would do anything for you, including uproot my life and move to Seattle, Washington.”
That was news to me. “You’re staying with me?”
Her grin spread. “For a little while at least. Besides, there’s no way you can live without me.”
I squealed and threw my arms around her. “Are you serious? We are going to have so much fun.”
When I pulled back, my mind started racing. “Wait, your parents are okay with this?”
Elise was in a similar situation as me, except she stayed with her parents for the money and privileges. And her parents were so involved with their own lives that they were hardly ever around.
She scoffed. “They are traveling so much they barely even know I exist anymore.”
Panic started to take hold. “But what about your identity? My dad will look for you when he can’t find me.”
“Well, I had my dad do the same thing for me that he did for you. I’m going to be Olivia Marks once we make it to Seattle.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to process everything. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She shrugged. “When I was helping you plan everything, I couldn’t help but think how brave you were.”
I clicked my tongue. “Brave? I’m sneaking out in the middle of the night like a coward.”
“Because your dad is a psycho, and you can’t talk to him like a normal person would. But you’re going out on your own and starting a whole new life. You saved up everything you could with what little you had, and you’re taking a huge risk going against your dad.”
I blew out a breath, then laughed. “Yeah, so why would you want to go with me? Being with me will put you at risk too.”
“Luz, you’re my best friend. You’ve been there for me more than anyone else in my life, including my parents. You’re the only one who’s really cared for me,” she said softly, her voice cracking slightly at the end. “You’re my family, and I want to go with you on this journey.”
My chest tightened with emotion. Elise usually avoided showing or talking about feelings because of her parents. She had everything she needed when it came to material things, but not the love and affection she’d always wanted from her parents.
I reached over to grab her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”
Wiping her face, she sniffled. “So, first stop, New Orleans?”
We’d decided to get out of Florida as fast as possible and give ourselves a longer head start if my dad came after me right away.
I grinned. “New Orleans, baby.”
Right before leaving Miami, we’d ditched our phones in the Everglades and got prepaid ones to hold us over until we reached Seattle.
It was a little over a twelve-hour drive from Miami to New Orleans. About halfway there, Elise and I stopped to get a bite to eat and switched places so she could get some sleep while I drove the rest of the way.
We were staying at a fancy hotel in the French Quarter. We arrived right after check-in time, and I was so thankful because I was exhausted. I’d barely been allowed to drive a car before and had definitely never driven for six hours straight.
Once we were in our room, I collapsed on the bed. Elise was paying for everything with cash, but she already had a credit card with her new name to use when necessary or for emergencies.
Elise plopped down on the bed next to me. “I can’t believe we’re in New Orleans.”
A small smile tipped my lips as I fought to stay awake. “Me either.”
“Hey,” Elise said, shaking me. “There’s no way you’re sleeping on our first night out.”
I chuckled. “It’s only four. I just need a nap. I’ve been up for over twenty-four hours.”
Elise sighed. “Okay, but I’m waking you up in three hours to get ready.”
Elise stuck to her word about waking me up, and I was glad. I’d left my family to experience life and make my own choices, and I definitely wanted to have fun in New Orleans, especially since we were only planning to stay one night.
“There’s this restaurant a couple of blocks from here that is a local staple, and then we have to go to Cafe Du Monde, of course,” Elise said as we got in the elevator to go to the lobby.
“And Bourbon Street,” I added.
When we got to the restaurant, I couldn’t help but watch the entrance. I was so afraid that my dad would come barging in even though he probably hadn’t even made it back to Florida yet.
I tried to push the fear aside, not wanting to ruin my road trip because of anxiety.
As we waited for our food, Elise said, “I think I want to hook up with a guy in each city that we stop in.”
I scrunched my nose. “Make sure you use protection.”
Elise giggled. “You should, too. That one time with your lab partner from high school doesn’t count.”
Since my parents were so controlling, I was only able to go to school and work, then home. I had zero social life. Elise and I were friends because we were in school together, and my parents agreed to let her come to our house sometimes.
I didn’t want to graduate high school a virgin, so I’d asked my lab partner during my senior year if he wanted to have sex with me.
“Um, his thing went inside me, so it counts,” I argued with a scoff. “And I bled.”
My best friend laughed. “Still, you need to have a real experience. Not some rushed hookup underneath the bleachers at our high school.”
She was right, but I’d never had the opportunity. My dad didn’t allow me to date in high school, and when I’d graduated, he’d tried to set me up with the sons of his cartel friends, but it never worked out. I had no desire to be in that life any more than I was, and I was surprised my dad hadn’t forced me to marry yet.
“I will. Maybe on the trip, or maybe when we get to Seattle. I don’t want to plan out something and be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.”
Elise arched a perfectly microbladed brow at me. “Well, I hope you’re going to be open-minded. We’re going to be partying a lot on this trip, and that could lead to some pretty hot one-night stands. No strings attached; just pure fun.”
I couldn’t help but smile. She had a point, and I always envied the women in my romance novels who had amazing sex. “I will be open-minded, but I won’t make any guarantees.”
My best friend did a little shimmy in her seat. “This is going to be the best road trip ever!”
After dinner, we went back to the hotel to change, then took an Uber to Bourbon Street, opting to leave the car in case we got too drunk to drive.
Which we probably would.
When I stepped out of the Uber, the humid air of New Orleans hit me instantly, thick with the scent of jasmine and street food.
I tilted my head back to look up at the towering buildings of the French Quarter, each one a mix of faded colors and flickering lights. The neon signs of Bourbon Street blinked like a siren’s call—vibrant and alive.
Beside me, Elise scrambled to get out, her laughter bubbling over as she fought to keep her heels from getting stuck in the pavement cracks. "Okay, this is going to be epic!" my best friend said, tugging her skirt down and adjusting her lacy tank top.
"Don't jinx it." I grinned, fixing my own skirt to make sure my ass wasn’t hanging out.
Elise was already scanning the street, wide-eyed. "I can't believe we’re finally here! This place is unreal."
It was chaos in the best possible way. The street was alive with a symphony of sounds: the clinking of beads, the low hum of jazz spilling from doorways, and the shouts of people trying to catch a parade of brightly colored plastic necklaces. Groups of people shuffled between street performers and open-door bars, their voices blending with the clang of cymbals in the distance.
Elise nudged me. “Maybe we should use our new IDs. You know, practice being our new selves.”
I agreed with a nod. “Good idea. Especially if my dad starts trying to track me.”
Elise’s eyes landed on a bartender outside a bar waving a tray of hurricanes. "Do we?” Before I could answer, she continued, “We should definitely do that,” her voice barely audible over all the noise.
I laughed. “It’s only nine o’clock. We can at least wait until we’ve explored a little.”
"I guess. Just look at it," Elise gestured to the street, her face flushed with excitement. "It’s like we’ve stepped into another world."
We made our way down the crowded street, dodging groups of people wearing beads they’d probably earned in ways I didn’t want to think about. At one point, someone waved a stack of beads in front of us, slowing us down.
Elise looked at me and shrugged before pulling up her shirt and flashing the man with a giggle.
Gasping, I darted my gaze away. “Elise!” I shrieked, fighting my own laughter.
“What? We’re in New Orleans, baby. We have to get some beads!”
When I looked back at my best friend, her shirt was back in place, and she wore a purple beaded necklace.
The man looked expectantly at me, raising the beads.
I shook my head with a nervous chuckle. “No, thanks.”
Giving me a knowing smile, he shrugged before walking away.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I commented.
Elise linked her arm through mine. “You only live once.”
Everywhere we went, the energy of the street swirled around us. I’d never seen anything like it. It felt like a place perpetually stuck between twilight and dawn, with music pulsing in the background and the drinks flowing freely. It was a feeling of being alive, of shedding everything else for the night.
"I want to hear live jazz," I said. "Do you think we can find a place?"
"Of course we can," Elise said with a playful nudge. “But first, we have to get a hurricane.”
A few steps later, we entered one of the many bars with an open door, and sure enough, the bartender was pouring a line of cocktails that practically screamed New Orleans. The drink itself looked like a glowing sunset.
We each took a glass from the bar, clinking them together.
“To no regrets.” Elise grinned.
“To no regrets,” I repeated before taking a sip.
“This is sweet. Like really sweet.” Elise took another long drink. “Now, I understand why these are so dangerous. You can barely taste the alcohol.” She tilted her head and then squinted. “Do you hear that?”
I paused, listening for what my friend was referring to. From somewhere down the block, the unmistakable sound of a saxophone wove through the air—smooth, seductive, and soulful. "Jazz," I said with a grin.
Elise left a twenty on the bar after we downed the rest of our drinks, then we headed toward the sound, drawn by the sweet, smoky notes of the sax. The crowd parted before us like a sea, the music pulling us in like a current. When we finally reached a small courtyard, we found a jazz band playing under an arch of string lights. The trumpet player was nodding his head with each note, eyes closed, lost in the music.
"Wow," Elise whispered. “This is magical."
I glanced at my best friend, feeling a surge of warmth. It wasn’t just about the night, or the place, or the drinks—it was about the fact that we were here on this journey together, as we always had been since kindergarten.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” I murmured. “It feels... like a dream.”
Elise leaned her head on my shoulder. “I know. But it’s real. And we’re living it.”
The music wrapped itself around us, filling the spaces between words. We were in New Orleans, on Bourbon Street, with the whole city around us pulsing to the rhythm of a life well-lived.
It really was like a dream come true for me.
After the last song, the crowd dispersed, and the night beckoned us back out onto Bourbon Street—into more laughter, more stories, more memories we would hold onto long after the city’s lights faded into the distance behind us.
The streets were buzzing with energy that made everything feel larger than life. The music was louder now, a mix of jazz, a few bold rock bands that had taken to the street corners, and hip-hop from the bars blending into one cacophony that seemed to spill from every doorway. It felt like we were part of something bigger, something magical.
As we walked past a row of bars, Elise nudged me. "Do you think we're ready to meet someone tonight?" Her voice was light, teasing.
I grinned, raising a brow. "Maybe. Are you?"
Elise shrugged, a playful spark in her eye. "I mean, I did say a guy in every city." Her gaze flitted over the crowd as we walked, scanning faces and sizing up potential trouble. "It's about the adventure, right?"
I laughed. "Always. But like I said, no promises. We’re here for the experience, not just the guys."
Just then, a group of three men stepped into our path, clearly having a great time. One of them, tall with dark hair and a wide smile, stopped in front of us. "Well, well," he said, grinning like he’d just stumbled upon a treasure. “A couple of gorgeous women on Bourbon Street? This is gonna be a good night."
Elise’s eyes sparkled. "Is it now?" She let her voice drop into that playful, confident tone she got when she was in the mood for some mischief.
"Definitely." The tall one nodded and stepped closer, offering a handshake to Elise first. "I'm Gabe. And these two troublemakers are Sam and Charlie." He gestured to the other two men, who both waved lazily, clearly already enjoying the night's festivities.
“Olivia,” Elise said, giving me a knowing grin as she shook Gabe’s hand before shaking the others.
"Elizabeth," I introduced, trying out using my new name as I shook each of the men’s hands.
"What brings two beautiful ladies to Bourbon Street?" Gabe asked, not missing a beat. His brown eyes were bright and intent, as though he wanted to learn everything about us in the span of a few minutes.
Elise winked. "We're here to have a good time. See the sights. Dance. Drink. Make some memories."
"Memories, huh?" Gabe grinned even wider, clearly amused. "That sounds like a solid plan." He nodded toward the bar behind them. "The night’s still young. How about we get you a drink? You know, for the memories."
I exchanged a quick glance with Elise. We’d only had one drink each so far so I shrugged. "Sure, why not? But don’t think we’re easy targets, okay? We have standards."
Gabe chuckled, a deep, rich sound that blended with the music in the background. "Fair enough. We’ll try to be on our best behavior, but no promises."
The five of us made our way into a nearby bar, the kind that had a crowded, lived-in feel. A mural of jazz musicians covered one wall, while the other was lined with aging photos of the city through the decades. The bartender, an older woman with a quick smile, greeted Gabe by name as we all squeezed up against the bar.
“What’s your poison?” Gabe asked, looking at Elise, then me, his eyes glinting mischievously.
Elise didn’t hesitate. “A hurricane. It’s the New Orleans staple, right?"
I nodded. "I’ll have the same."
Gabe flashed a grin. "Two hurricanes coming right up."
While we waited for the drinks, I took in the scene. Sam and Charlie were chatting animatedly about something, but Gabe kept looking back at me, his smile never quite fading. I wasn’t sure if it was just the aura of Bourbon Street or if he really was as charming as he appeared to be, but something was magnetic about him.
“So,” Elise said, “you guys are locals, right?”
“We’re locals,” Gabe said easily, his posture relaxed. “We do this all the time. It’s kind of hard not to be in the mix when you live here. Bourbon Street’s like a second home.” He chuckled. “You?”
“First time,” Elise chimed in, grinning. “But so far, I’m loving it. Bourbon Street’s got a vibe like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Welcome to the madness,” Sam said with a wink, tapping his glass to Elise’s after the bartender slid the drinks their way. “This place doesn’t sleep. And it’ll give you memories you’ll never forget—or at least ones you’ll swear you can’t remember.”
Gabe raised his glass. "Here’s to good times and no regrets."
Elise lifted her glass too, the liquid inside a swirling crimson. "I’ll drink to that."
I took a drink. The alcohol was sweet, fruity, with a little bite, and I felt the warmth spread through me instantly.
The night seemed to shift then, the conversation flowing as we all slipped into a booth by the bar. The noise of the street outside filtered in, but inside the bar, it was just the five of us and the intoxicating pull of the night.
“So you’ve lived here your whole life?” I asked Gabe, sipping the last of my second hurricane. The sweetness was starting to burn a little, but I liked it. It felt like the perfect drink for the night we were having.
“Born and raised,” Gabe said, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "Grew up just a few blocks from here. I know the city like the back of my hand." He leaned in a little, his voice lowering. “Bourbon Street’s where the tourists come to play. But the heart of New Orleans is in the alleys, the backstreets, the hidden courtyards.” His expression turned slightly mischievous. “Do you want a taste of the real New Orleans?”
I arched a brow, my curiosity piqued. "Depends. What do you mean by ‘real’ New Orleans?”
Gabe smiled like he’d been waiting for me to ask. “The places people don’t show you. The quiet jazz clubs, the secret speakeasies, and the dive bars where the locals go when they want to escape the madness of Bourbon. If you really want to feel New Orleans, you’ve got to get off the beaten path.”
I nodded slowly. I could feel myself getting drawn into his world—the one he seemed to have already mapped out, a hidden layer to the city I’d only just begun to scratch the surface of. “Sounds intriguing. Maybe we’ll let you be our guide,” I said, my voice light but with an edge of genuine interest.
Gabe’s eyes sparkled as his hand brushed my thigh. “You won’t regret it. Trust me.”
Across the table, Elise was clearly lost in her own conversation, her laughter ringing out as Charlie told a joke. Sam leaned in close, sharing something that made Elise smile even wider, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the moment. I could tell that my best friend was in her element, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she hooked up with both men that night. Elise had a way of drawing people in with her easy confidence and infectious energy. It was one of the reasons I always felt so grounded next to her. It was like the two of us balanced each other out and could handle anything.
Gabe followed my gaze and chuckled. “Your friend seems like a force of nature.”
I glanced back at him, smiling. “She’s never met a stranger.”
“I can see that,” Gabe said with a smirk, then leaned back a little. “It’s good to have someone like that around, though. Keeps the night interesting.”
At that moment, Elise leaned across the table, pulling my attention back to her. “Okay, we’re getting the inside scoop from these guys, right?” She laughed, her voice louder as she looked from me to Gabe. “I feel like I need to know more about your secret spots in this city.”
Gabe’s smile widened. “I’m happy to give you the tour whenever you’re ready. But fair warning—it’s not for the faint of heart.”
Elise raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can’t speak for Elizabeth,” she said, enunciating my fake name, “but I’m all in. Lead the way.”
The group laughed, the playful energy continuing to build between us. It was hard not to feel the pull of the city and the people around me—everything was more vibrant here, more alive. I’d never experienced anything like it since I’d been sheltered my whole life.
I felt the surge of excitement again, the same one I’d had when we’d first stepped onto Bourbon Street. The thrill of being somewhere new, somewhere alive.
Before I could respond, Elise jumped in, clearly in a mood to make things even more interesting. “Okay, let’s get this secret tour thing started. We can’t waste all this energy just talking about it.”
Gabe looked at Elise, then back at me. “I’m down for that if you are,” he said, winking at me with a smirk. “There’s a place not far from here where we can start.”
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
As we left the bar, the city seemed to stretch ahead of us, full of possibilities and secrets waiting to be discovered.
“Lead the way,” Elise said, directing her attention forward, her voice brimming with anticipation. “Let’s make some memories we won’t forget... or at least ones we’ll pretend we can’t remember.”
We all laughed, following Gabe down Bourbon Street, stepping deeper into the heart of New Orleans—and into whatever adventures the night had in store.
The neon lights flickered as we navigated through the maze of people, our laughter blending with the music that pulsed from every direction. Gabe led the way with effortless confidence. Charlie and Sam trailed behind, the three men weaving in and out of the crowds like they owned the night. Elise was practically bouncing with excitement, her energy contagious, while I felt a mix of exhilaration and curiosity; a sense that tonight was a new beginning.
“So where’s this place you’re taking us?” Elise asked, practically skipping to keep up with Gabe’s long strides.
Gabe glanced over his shoulder, his smile wide but mysterious. “You’ll see. It’s one of those spots where you’ve gotta experience it for yourself.”
After a couple of blocks, we turned off Bourbon Street onto a quieter, less crowded street that seemed to pulse with a more peaceful kind of energy. The buildings were older, the lights dimmer, but the place had a charm—grimy but lived-in, like it had stories to tell that only the locals knew. Gabe led us into a nondescript door beside a speakeasy-style bar. No sign. No flashy lights. Just a small black door that barely looked like it belonged.
“This is it,” Gabe said, his voice taking on a lower, more secretive tone. “You ready?”
Elise was already grinning. “Hell yeah,” she said, almost before I could even process the question.
I was still a little unsure. I’d come to Bourbon Street to let loose, to do something different, but I didn’t expect this kind of different. “Are you sure this is...” I glanced at the dark alleyway we’d come from. But Gabe was already pushing the door open, a knowing smile on his lips.
Once inside, the atmosphere hit me like a wave. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and old leather, the walls adorned with vintage jazz posters and old records. The dim lighting gave the room an intimate, almost mysterious feel, and the buzz of conversation mixed with the soft melodies of a live jazz band in the corner. The music wasn’t loud, but it vibrated deep, a slow and steady rhythm that filled the air with its cool, seductive energy.
The bartender, a woman with a sharp bob and bold red lips, nodded at Gabe as he entered. “Gabe,” she said, her voice warm but not overly familiar. “Good to see you again.”
"Always," he replied smoothly, his hand resting casually on the bar. “We’re here to take over the place tonight. You ready for us?”
She smiled, not missing a beat. “It’s always a good night when you show up.”
As Gabe ordered us a round of drinks, I looked around, absorbing the space. This wasn’t like the crowded bars on Bourbon Street, the ones full of tourists trying to catch beads or chug drinks. No, this was different. This was the kind of place where the city’s soul seemed to be, hidden in the back alleys and tucked away from the spotlight.
Some couples seductively danced on the dance floor, their hands roaming each other’s bodies as they moved in time with the music. Others were in booths surrounding the dance floor, doing intimate things that no one else seemed to notice.
My eyes widened as I looked away, making eye contact with Gabe. He gave me a knowing smirk as he leaned in and whispered, “Does this make you uncomfortable?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my stomach knotting from his closeness. “A little.”
I felt his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer. “We can leave if you want.”
I shook my head. I was slightly uncomfortable, but I wanted to experience more. “No. I want to stay.”
Gabe pulled back. “Good girl.”
Elise, never one to waste time, was already on the dance floor with Charlie and Sam, grinding sensually to the music as she sipped her drink. The floor was a bit uneven and the crowd small, but the energy was magnetic. Gabe grabbed my hand and led me toward our friends, but I found myself walking a little more slowly, taking in the space.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted, my voice low as I spoke to Gabe. “It’s... different. But in a good way.”
Gabe’s eyes softened. “Yeah, it’s one of the spots that doesn’t change with the times. A lot of people think the magic of New Orleans is all in the flashy lights and the chaos. But it’s really in these quieter corners. The places you can breathe and really feel the music.”
I took a deep breath, allowing myself to be enveloped by the atmosphere, the low hum of jazz wrapping around me like a blanket. Something about the place was grounding. It was something I’d never experienced before; something I’d never been allowed to.
A few seconds later, Elise called out to me, “Come on, Elizabeth! You can’t just stand there all night! Get your ass out here and dance!”
I laughed, the sound light and free, and Gabe smiled at me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “She’s right. You don’t have to be a professional dancer to enjoy this.”
“I’ll probably embarrass myself,” I joked, my voice teasing but with a hint of vulnerability I couldn’t hide. I’d only danced in my room with Elise on rare occasions, and definitely not sensual like this.
Gabe cocked a brow. “Trust me. No one’s judging here. If you want to let loose, this is the place.”
Elise was still dancing with Sam and Charlie, already lost in the music. Others were slowly grinding together to the sensual rhythm and obviously not paying attention to anyone around them.
Without trying to think too much about it, I took a step forward, feeling the pull of the music in my chest, and before I knew it, I was moving, my feet following the beat without any real effort.
At first, I stayed on the edge of the dance floor, just swaying, but the music—those slow, sultry notes—pulled me in deeper, and soon, I was spinning and laughing, my worries melting away with each passing beat. Gabe was right; no one was watching, no one cared. It wasn’t about being good or perfect—it was about being present.
Gabe came up behind me, placing his hands on my hips and matching my rhythm. The feel of his erection pressed against my ass made my abdomen coil, and I bit my bottom lip, losing myself more in the music and surroundings.
He nibbled my earlobe. “You’re gorgeous when you let yourself go.”
I pushed back against him, and he let out a low growl. “If you keep doing that, we’re going to have to move to one of the booths away from prying eyes.”
I’d never been one for public indecency, but with the alcohol flowing through me and the atmosphere intoxicating me, I wasn’t opposed. “Maybe I want that.”
Elise joined us then, obliviously interrupting our moment. Laughing, she grabbed my hand and pulled me away from Gabe, spinning me around, her face glowing. “This is it, Luz! This is freedom!”
My laughter mixed with Elise’s, and the two of us became one with the music, the night, the city. And for a moment, it didn’t matter who we were or where we came from. It was just two best friends in the heart of New Orleans, dancing our way through a night that would be etched into our memories forever.
The first chapter in the story of my new life.
Gabe and the guys joined us soon after, the five of us filling the dance floor with our own rhythm, our own energy. I felt the weight of the day—of everything I’d left behind—slip away. I was in the moment, fully alive, fully free.
And I never wanted to lose that feeling now that I’d found it.