Chapter 20
Twenty
Eloise
“You said trust me?” Taylor asks Kenz incredulously as we stand at the bar, trying to avoid getting stepped on by the burlesque dancer who was shaking her ass in front of us.
Or above us. I have to make sure that my jaw doesn’t drop when she glides around us, slowly showing us more and more of herself behind the feathered fan.
I stop myself from swallowing my tongue.
My skin is all hot.
“Yeah! It’s a great bar!”
“Kenz,” I roll my eyes, saying it loud enough to admonish her, but she doesn’t ever feel shame. I love her, but shit, this is insane.
“I don’t know what you want from me! It’s a good bar, and they’ve got good drinks!
” she says with a shrug. She’s already ordered us a round of shots while Taylor and I get our bearings straight in the club.
Taylor seemed just as enamoured with the dancer as I was.
Kenz seems to know her with the way they waved at each other, and I wonder if this is who she was talking about.
It would make sense.
“Is she...?” I trail off. Kenz looks up at the dancer, who seems to drag a finger down Kenz’s nose. I watch the manicured nail bounce off the tip of her nose and the way that Kenz’s brown eyes get swallowed by her pupil.
“Is she what?” she asks loudly enough for me to feel a little embarrassed for even thinking about it.
“Is this who you were talking about earlier?” I ask. Kenz turns to me, brow furrowed as she shakes her head.
“Of course not. Ebony is just a friend.”
The dancer, Ebony, waves, blowing a kiss at the three of us before she stalks to the other side of the bar so she can entertain some of the patrons there. The red and orange underlighting make her glow, and I swear she’s got wing tattoos on her shoulders.
The white string bikini does nothing except giving me impure thoughts.
“A friend,” Taylor drags out, and Kenz nods.
“Of course! Some of the girls and I have come a few times after some games. It’s a great—” Her words get drowned out over the drop of the bass and I think maybe I am too old to be here.
Taylor looks just as nauseated, her face so twisted in confusion that she looks like she’s about to have a stroke.
The bartender drops the shots off in front of us as Kenz fumbles with her phone to pay before we clink glasses and down the liquid.
I ignore the burn and start to pull the two of them towards the dance floor.
It’s a tight squeeze, but there’s some space near the edge, and the crowd is jiving with the DJ. It looks like a good crowd.
Taylor feels like she’s pushing back against me, but when I look down, I just see her hand reaching for me, gripping my hand as we move.
Kenz is jumping up and down, a giant smile on her face, as an old Pitbull song plays in the background.
She pushes further ahead, her hips taking control as she rolls them in time with the beat.
Taylor’s head seems to follow Kenz’s body, the way her hips move, and I notice the twitch in her body as we all become slaves to the music.
It’s thundering, and the bass reverberates through my chest in a way that loud music does to me.
It’s one of the most pleasant experiences in my life.
One of my favourite feelings, the way that my skin rumbles beneath the sound of the DJ’s spinning and how my heart thuds against my ribs in tune with the beat.
I close my eyes for a minute, letting my own hips take control as the rest of my body follows suit.
We become a part of the undulating sea of dancers, and I get to watch as people start to couple up and curl into each other with each shout through the speakers. Some are singing along, and I catch Taylor nodding along with a pleased smile.
The lights are flashing, Kenz is dancing with another person deeper in the crowd, and Taylor is just off to my left. My arms feel like noodles, and my body is moving on its own accord, the beat rolling through me in a way that I can’t control.
I love this.
The anonymity of dancing in a crowd and having fun. I missed this.
Maybe I can get some of the girls in Vancouver to do this with me when we’re back.
I close my eyes, letting the music take over as I continue to dance.
The music is mingling with the shots and drinks from supper, leaving a pleasant buzz across my skin that I’ll be able to ride for most of the night if I’m lucky.
I definitely wouldn’t push for another drink when Taylor and I have a flight tomorrow; being hungover on a plane sounds like it has the potential to be one of the worst decisions of my life.
I lost sight of Kenz within another twenty minutes of our first drinks, which I’m not shocked by.
She’ll probably be in the bathroom with another person, but Taylor’s been close by.
She looks a little more comfortable being on the dance floor now, but I watched her have at least two more shots from my vantage point between the bar and the dance floor.
She’s loose-limbed and slowly getting into the beat of the music.
It’s taking control of her the same way it’s taking control of me, but she’s coming closer with every song.
The heavy beat has the two of us circling each other, hips gyrating and arms in the air.
She’s got her eyes closed as she throws her head back, continuing to move in almost ecstasy.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen this woman so relaxed as she does right now.
Taylor bumps into me, her hands finding my waist before she looks up at me. Those green eyes are half lidded and dark, the neon lights casting shadows across her smile. I wonder if… no.
My hands are above her waist as she gets closer, her alcohol tinged breath in my face as I swallow the lump in my throat as she bites her bottom lip, a tentative hip roll connecting both of our pelvises.
She smiles impishly as I respond, and goosebumps erupt across my arms. Her hands pull me tighter, gripping me in a way that makes me shudder, and I wrap my arms around her.
Taylor’s breath fans across my face when she leans in, and we grind against each other.
“Was someone bothering you?” I ask. It’s the only reason I can think she would willingly ever be this close to me.
She pulls back, brow pulled together in confusion before she dissolves into giggles and continues to grind against me.
“I just wanted to see what it was like,” she says, biting her bottom lip.
I feel my lips twitch. “You like it?”
Her pupils are blown as she nods. “I think I get it.”
“Get what?”
She leans in close, her lips to my ear, our bodies completely flushed together. God help me, I think I’m going to be boneless if she’s close to me for any longer. “What it’s like to enjoy another person’s company.”
She pulls back completely, and I’m cold. My legs don’t feel like they’re working, and somehow the movement of the crowd makes me realize how much heat the two of us generated. I motion that I’m going to grab another drink.
She nods, turning back around, her hips shaking. Her shapely ass looks almost like a damn shelf as she’s enjoying herself.
I’m parched.
Holy fuck, I don’t think any vodka is going to help me.
As I get a glass of water, I can’t help but stare at her. Even the burlesque dancer—in red string bikini bottoms and nipple tassels now—can’t hold my attention as I feel my jaw drop.
What it’s like to enjoy another person’s company.
What a wild thought.
She was with her fiancé for years, right? Did she…? There’s no way.
Maybe there’s more to her than meets the eye.
There has to be.
I wish I had kissed her, felt her lips on mine, tasted the salty skin beneath my lips. But there’s no reason for me to have tried that. She vehemently told us that she was straight.
Does she not trust us?
Does she not trust herself?
I down the water quickly, and ask for another. There’s no way. I have to be dreaming.
A body shoves into me, and Kenz is there, hair mussed and lips swollen into a satisfied smile that makes her look like the cat who got the cream. “You good?” she asks and I nod, barely looking at her before turning my attention back to Taylor, who looks like she’s on cloud nine.
“El,” she says in a disappointed tone.
I shrug off her arm on my side; suddenly everything feels too hot. “I think I’m ready to go,” I say hoarsely. “Is there someplace to grab food?”
She nods. “There’s a taco place just down the road.”
“Great. I’ll grab Taylor and let’s go.”
“Are you sure?“
I place a hand on her arm, meeting her eyes. She takes one look at me, the tenseness in my body, the way my hand feels sweaty and trembling, and I wonder if she thinks that Taylor did something to me.
She’d be right, but she’d assume the worst, when really, there’s nothing to say other than Taylor has unknowingly ripped the rug out from underneath my feet.
Worming my way back into the crowd to Taylor, I take a steadying breath as I reach out for her.
But she’s bumped or pushed and suddenly she’s crashing into me.
I can smell her sweat mixing with her perfume; I can nearly taste the salt.
My lips are centimetres from her skin as she wraps her arms around my neck.
We’re together again, and every thought I had over the years as this crush waxed and waned is crashing into me with full force, the loudest being this feels right.
She tilts her head up, and every second feels drawn out for my pleasure, my delight, as she smiles. “You’re back!” she shouts.
“We’re getting tacos,” I shout back, gesturing towards the door. She pouts for a moment.
“I wanna keep dancing,” she whines in my ear. I duck my head, trying to not groan at the way she whimpers as the song ends.
“Let’s get food in you. We have a travel day tomorrow,” I whisper. My lips brush against her ear, and I watch the way she folds. “Come on, we have to get you sober; otherwise, it’s going to be a shitty day.”
She rolls her eyes but steps on her tiptoes for a moment, her lips brushing my cheek before walking out of the bar.
My brain has shut off. There’s a high-pitched whine in my ears, and it must be my thoughts turning back on because she’s rebooted my system with the brush of her lips.
I must be bright red with how hot my cheeks are.
Holy shit.
She… she did that.
I cough to clear my throat before leaving, pointedly ignoring the way Kenz looks at me from the stoop of the bar. I don’t think I can talk to her for the rest of the night because she’s going to know what went on. Taylor looks lighter, her shoulders have rolled back, and she seems happy.
Not that she usually doesn’t, but I think this was the perfect night for her, especially after everything that happened today.
We’re at the hotel. Kenz left us at the taco place, and I got the opportunity to navigate Taylor into the rideshare and out of it. The night receptionist at the hotel waves at us as we stumble past. Taylor’s hands are all over me, wandering down my back as we wait for the elevator.
“You’re a good person,” she slurs.
“You are too, Taylor,” I say, pacifying her as she snorts. “Minus the struggle of meeting new teammates,” I tease.
“I’m not a good person,” she says. She rolls her head back, eyes glassy. “I was so mean to you.”
“And we got past that.”
She makes a dismissive noise. “It’s not—I’m not homophobic.”
I smile. “I know. You’re friends with Winnie. She wouldn’t be friends with you if you were.” Her smile is soft as I usher us into the elevator. “You know, you kissed me tonight.”
She hums. “First time I’ve done that.”
“You also said you didn’t realize what it’s like to enjoy another person’s company?” I whisper. She hums again.
“Frank was an idiot.”
“You were with him for years, weren’t you?” I ask. The elevator is moving slowly. Or maybe time is slow. “You had to enjoy his company, right?”
Her head rolls, and maybe she’s too far gone for this conversation. I shouldn’t be doing this. This feels like a violation.
I should stop. But her hand twirls in the hair at the nape of my neck while the other is holding my hand, pushes me forward. “Is this how you and Rosie would touch each other, as friends?”
She nods. “Rosie was good. I loved her.”
“More than Frank?”
She sighs. “Frank was stable. My mom loved Frank. My dad loved Frank. I loved Rosie.”
“And she left.”
“She left. She and her husband left.”
My eyebrows feel like they’re jumping off my face. Her husband? Shit. “So you need a replacement Rosie and a replacement Frank?”
“Frank wasn’t useful for much else than getting my mom off my back.”
“When was the wedding going to be?”
“I don’t know. We never got that far.” She lets out a dry, bitter laugh. “Engaged for a few months and not a single thing planned.”
“Oh.”
She nods, standing up straighter before she stumbles. I reach to catch her, but she rights herself on the wall. “Do you want to ask me any questions?” I say, watching the floors change like molasses.
“Why did you and your girlfriend break up?”
I shrug. “We grew apart.”
She sighs. “That’s sad.”
I nod. “It happens. She stayed in Calgary, and I wanted to go.”
“Vancouver was your first choice?”
“My only choice, otherwise I would have had to look to Europe or retire.”
“You’re too good to retire,” she snorts derisively. “I’m glad I have you.”
The doors open. “I’m glad I’m with you too,” I say, ignoring the warm, fuzzy feeling that settles into my chest.
She yawns and this time drowsily stumbles with me to our hotel room.
She pulls her shoes off and goes digging through her weekend bag for her pajamas.
I duck into the bathroom so she can get changed and look into the mirror.
My eyeliner is a little smudged, my cheeks are flushed, and my hair isn’t as pristine as it was this evening.
I take the chance to wash my face and brush my teeth, and when I return to the main room, she’s already passed out on the bed, face smushed into the pillows, starfishes out.
She’s over the covers, the light from the bathroom highlighting her pink booty shorts rising enough to show a bit of the curve of her backside.
With my mouth drying, I quickly get into my pajamas and also crawl into bed.
I gingerly move her arm to crawl underneath it.
It falls onto my chest with a thud and instantly pulls me closer to her.
Oh.
Oh.