The Embrace of Evergreen (Unexpected Love #2)

Chapter 7 - EthanBlue

Chapter 7

Ethan

Pure panic.

Why, oh why, oh why didn’t I say no when Gabriel asked me to join him and Blue and apparently a plethora of other friends at a club? A club ! I don’t go to clubs. I mean, aside from the one time a month I force myself to go on a date, I don’t even go to restaurants with other people. I could have told him I have a deadline at work that’s quickly closing in, and I need to hole up in my apartment, hunched over my keyboard with snacks all weekend. I could have told him I’m Jewish, and I don’t go out on Friday nights, but in truth, I may have been to the coffee shop already on a Saturday or two, and he’d likely have called me out instantly. Hell, I could have told him I had a date lined up. He doesn’t know that I don’t have a date! I’ve spent the entire week trying to come up with an excuse to cancel that won’t lead to too many questions, and I haven’t been able to come up with anything viable. I could still text them and tell them that I’m sick, but a large part of me is afraid that Blue and Gabriel are too nice for that to work. I’m willing to bet that one or, God forbid, both of them would find a way to check up on me. They’d probably call Max and convince her to give them my address and then show up with soup and tissues and knit socks and blankets. They’d probably carry me to bed and curl up against me like two giant puppies. Maybe that would still be preferable to standing here with my heart trying to jump out of my chest.

I jolt when an arm slips over my shoulders, and I’m pulled tightly against a body that smells like coconut. I don’t know anyone who smells like coconut. Do murderers smell like coconut ?

“You made it!” Gabriel’s face is close enough to my ear that his voice cuts easily through the throb of the bass that’s seeping out into the street in front of the club where I’ve been standing in a daze for who knows how long.

The fact that I recognize his voice only lowers my anxiety by a few degrees. It’s maybe only an eighty-five out of one hundred now, so I guess that’s a win, although that does make it less likely that I’ll spontaneously have a heart attack that will get me out of this adventure, so maybe not a win.

“Yep…I made it.” My voice breaks, and it’s pathetically obvious how nervous I sound .

Gabriel spins me just a bit, his face still close, expressive brown eyes searching mine. “You sound like you’re standing in front of a firing squad, sugar. What’s up?”

Of course he notices I’m nervous. I’m practically vibrating out of my skin.

“I’ve never…I’ve never been to a club like this before.”

His gorgeous smile softens just a bit as he squeezes my shoulder gently. “Then it’s a bleeping good thing that Blue and I found you, isn’t it? I promise we’ll take good care of you, and by the end of the night, you’ll have had such a spectacular time that you’ll be jumping at the chance to come out with us every weekend.”

The fact that I don’t believe him even a tiny bit must show on my face because he sticks his bottom lip out in the same pout that got me into this mess in the first place.

A warm hand settles on my lower back as Gabriel steps away, and without even looking, I know that the hand is tan and strong, and thin black tattoos drift down its slender fingers.

“You’d think he’s drunk already, but he’s completely sober; crazy drunk guy is just his natural personality. ”

Blue’s strong, quiet voice at my side settles me just a bit as Gabriel sticks his tongue out at the two of us and spins around to prance toward the club’s entrance as if he’s some tall, perfectly built Grecian Adonis who’s been cursed to remain a toddler for all eternity.

“Is he always like this…and did he say the word bleeping out loud, or did I hallucinate for a second?”

Blue’s chuckle is deep and gentle. “He’s not always like this. He’s actually one of the best people I know. He’s just a tad energetic, and our weekly night out is the place he burns off his stress from the week. And you didn’t hallucinate; Gabriel’s version of swearing definitely takes some getting used to.”

I just nod. It’s all I can manage in my current stressed and overstimulated state.

Blue shifts to stand in front of me, and while I normally hate to be touched and I’m already far past my touch limit even though I’ve only been here five minutes, I find myself mourning the loss of his hand on my back.

“You sure you’re okay? Don’t feel pressured into coming with us or anything.”

“No, it’s…I’m good. Let’s do this.” I paint on a smile that hopefully looks much braver than I feel, and after a single nod, Blue takes my hand and leads me into the club .

It’s loud and sticky and overwhelming, and I’m not sure where to look or how to feel as we make our way to one of the booths near the back. Just inside the entrance, there is a bar backed by shelves of liquor that reach to the ceiling. It’s a sight that would likely be the focal point of the long rectangular room even without folks lined up three deep waiting for orders. A karaoke platform where a handful of women are drunkenly attempting to hold both their microphones and drinks while barely managing something that roughly approximates singing sits at one end, and a small but tightly packed dance floor takes up the opposite side.

The booth is packed tightly with eight people crammed into a space meant for six, and a handful of others linger close by, leaning against the table and nearly spilling drinks on those unlucky enough to sit near the edges as they laugh and gesture. No one seems to mind, so I guess the fact that I want to run away fast enough to leave a burst of visible air in the shape of my outline like a cartoon character means that I’m the odd man out…again. While Blue introduces me to each of the people in the booth’s vicinity, I know that I’m too keyed up to have any chance at remembering their names should I run into them outside of this terrifying place tomorrow.

When three people slip out of their seats to make their way toward the dance floor, Blue presses me down onto the sticky pleather and slides in next to me. Before I even have time to adjust to my new location squished in between Blue and a woman he introduced as Eve, or Eva, or maybe Evie, Gabriel arrives with a tray of drinks.

“Since you drink the same disgusting coffee as Blue, I figured I’d take a chance on this one as well. I think you need something as soon as possible to deal with our chaos, yeah?”

He settles a tumbler filled with something amber in front of me with a wink.

“Thank you,” I mumble, hoping my voice is loud enough for Gabriel to hear me over the overwhelming turmoil of music and voices.

I’m not expecting much, but at this point, it doesn’t really matter. Gabriel is right. Even though I’m not a big drinker, I’m hopeful that downing a couple quickly might help take the edge off of the borderline panic that I’m fighting over the fact I’m actually sitting in a loud, packed club with a bunch of strangers.

Movement at my side as Blue raises his glass draws my attention away from trying to figure out what mine might contain. I know it’s unlikely anything I’ll enjoy, but the fact that it’s not clear is a good sign.

“To friendships, old and new.” Blue’s voice is soft, and even though I’m sure he’s just being polite, and it’s likely a toast he gives every week or something, it feels like he’s speaking directly to me. It feels like he’s glad I’m here. It feels like I’m wanted .

I clink my glass against his before braving a small sip.

“Yamato?” I’m so surprised that the question just rushes out.

Blue’s eyes widen in shock. “You know Japanese whiskey? No one drinks this but me.”

A flood of heat pools in my belly as I take another large sip. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Blue’s teeth toy with his lip ring for just a moment before he breaks into another of the most blinding smiles I’ve seen in my life. “I guess our friendship is just meant to be.”

Friendship. Something that’s been so lost to me for so many years that I’ve nearly forgotten what it feels like. I know that this is probably nothing special to him, to any of them. I mean, there are a dozen of them here laughing together like it’s a perfectly normal thing to have a dozen people in your life who like you and want to spend time with you, but for me, it feels…momentous.

By the time I’m on drink number four, we’ve been sitting in the booth for a couple of hours. Everyone has been nothing but kind to me, drawing me into their conversations and bringing me refills every time someone heads to the bar. They act like I’ve always been a part of their group, like I belong here with them. They listen when I talk and laugh at my occasional jokes. They ask me to dance and try and drag me with them to sing karaoke. They won’t stop trying to drag me up to sing karaoke. In their defense, I’m the only one who hasn’t agreed to sing. The rest of them are up there bouncing and giggling any chance they get. Gabriel and Blue have sung a handful of obscenely bad power ballad duets, and during each of them, I’ve laughed so hard my abs have cramped. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed like that. In truth, it was probably with Jordyn before I left home.

“Dance with me?” Blue’s eyes sparkle in the club’s flashing lights.

“No. Thank you, but I…I don’t dance.”

He winks at me for the second time in our relationship. “Dance with me, and I’ll get you out of having to sing tonight.”

I don’t want to sing. I don’t want to make a fool out of myself like the rest of them have been doing for hours now. I don’t think I’m even capable of letting go like that. I don’t want to dance either. People can watch and judge as I do that just as easily. Somehow, though, the idea of dancing with Blue isn’t as off-putting as it should be. It’s not like I want to kiss him or fuck him or anything else in that ballpark. I’m still just as broken as I’ve always been, even sitting here, buzzed and staring at half-naked men singing and laughing and gyrating together on the dance floor. Even though I’ve had Gabriel and Blue and a handful of strangers’ shoulders and thighs pressed up against mine in the cramped booth all night, I don’t feel anything resembling sexual attraction. Still, something about Blue’s touch settles me, and I know deep down in my soul that he won’t let anything happen to me.

A sigh I can’t quite suppress escapes, but I reach out and settle my palm on top of his outstretched hand. “One dance.”

We twist and weave through sticky, tightly packed bodies as we make our way to the dance floor, and before I even have a chance to wonder how close I’m supposed to stand or where to put my hands or to tell Blue that I don’t think I’ve ever actually danced in my adult life, his fingers are curling around my waist. His blue-grey eyes are close enough that I can see specks of cobalt and charcoal in his irises, and his teeth are toying with his lip ring yet again. He tightens his hands as the music throbs through me, and then he’s pulling me, moving my hips with his. I don’t have to wonder or think or do anything other than respond to the pressure of his touch, and I let myself fall into the sensation and the wave of release that washes over me.

I’ve spent nearly every weekend since I moved to Seattle exploring the misty beaches and dense forests just outside the city. Every week, I pull out my map, find a new small campsite or trailhead within driving distance, and head out to sit with the sound of branches whipping in the wind and birds singing in the distance while the scents of earth and green fill my soul the way they used to when I was young and naive and spent my time wandering through dense pines and snowdrifts. I lose myself in the overwhelming experience of feeling small and insignificant while I watch the ever-shifting play of light filter through leaves and the swaying of moss-covered limbs.

Dancing with Blue feels the same somehow. I close my eyes and focus on the way my body suddenly seems so aware of his strong fingers pressing into my hips and the beat of the basspulsing through me, and the world falls away. There is no work. No stress. No numbers. There is no painting on a professional smile. No triple-checking my thoughts before I speak them to make sure I’m not going to make a fool of myself. No sense of loss and emptiness. No missing Jordyn or my mom or dad. No roaming aimlessly from city to city and state to state searching for something mysterious and indefinable.

Dancing with Blue is comfort and peace and weightlessness. It’s floating through the woods without deadlines or projects or goals. It’s the scent of smoke and pine mixing with salt and sweat. The embrace of ancient redwoods and soothing green as far as the eye can see closing in around me and holding me safe and tight and warm.