7. Tori #2
Almost as if he could read my thoughts, Gavin’s gaze sharpened, focusing on me, his stare direct and enticing.
I swallowed.
Is this what I wanted? I didn’t know anymore.
Thankfully, Taylor Swift came on and it was the perfect excuse to change the subject.
“I love this song,” I shouted to him, the speakers pumping it through the club. I wasn’t ready to hit the floor with the amount of alcohol I’d just downed, but I bopped on my stool.
“This is extremely nerdy,” he said, passing me one of the fresh mixed drinks the bartender had just brought us, “but sometimes I like to translate pop songs into other languages.”
I grinned. “That is extremely nerdy,” I told him. “But I like it.” I gulped the cold drink.
He leaned closer and began singing along to the song. In Spanish.
“Porque los jugadores van a jugar, jugar, jugar. Y los que odian van a odiar, odiar, odiar.”
I laughed. He had a pretty decent voice but it was hard not to giggle at an adult man singing “Shake It Off” in another language.
“Not bad,” I told him, waiting for the chorus to come back around before I began singing along with the repeated words I could pick up. He joined in with me until we ran out of words.
“You nailed it!” Gavin exclaimed, sounding delighted. “How many languages do you speak?”
“Fluently?” I said. “Not that many. Latin’s not so much a speaking language, though I try, and I’m getting better at ASL. But I don’t know much Spanish—I was just following along with you. Definitely interested in learning more in the program, though. How about yourself?”
“Eh,” he said, waving a hand. “Only about half a dozen or so.”
“Half a dozen?” My mouth dropped open. “Fluently?”
Gavin gave a casual shrug. “I’ve always liked them. I took Spanish and French in high school and studied Mandarin in my spare time. Turns out I have kind of an ear for languages.”
“Apparently.” I was deeply impressed. I took a few more gulps of the too-sweet mixed drink and stared off into space, deep in thought.
Maybe if I was honest with Gavin, if I told him everything about my current situation, we could build something out of that.
If he knew the truth about my marriage, about the kind of man I was married to and why I’d agreed to the marriage in the first place, maybe he’d be willing to wait for me.
Wait until my marriage was officially over. And I was free.
It would only be a few years. Would he think I was worth it?
But god, could I really leave Stefan? I hated that I kept thinking about him. Kept fighting the temptation to turn my phone back on and check if he had called or texted. No doubt he’d have things to say to me when I got back home tonight. But I didn’t need to leave any time soon.
Especially since I was having such a good time with Gavin. He leaned even closer to me.
“Eisai poly omorfi,” he said.
“You speak Greek, too?” I asked, astonished.
He shook his head. “Only a little,” he said. “But I was hoping more to impress you with what I was saying, not how I was saying it. I said, ‘You are very beautiful.’”
I flushed. “Ef-kha-reesto,” I said, thanking him in Greek. “That’s the only Greek word I know.”
He moved closer, and suddenly the club felt even more hot and crowded. It wasn’t Gavin, though. It wasn’t his proximity to me or the chemistry that had been pinging between us all evening. This was something else.
A wave of nausea rolled over me, and I placed a cold hand to the back of my neck. I was pretty sure I was going to be sick. How many shots had I had? And how strong was the fruity drink I’d just downed in the last five minutes?
“I’m feeling a little off all of a sudden,” I said apologetically, sliding off the stool. The room tilted on its axis. Whoa. “Kinda dizzy. I’m going to hit the ladies’ room. Excuse me.”
“Are you okay?” I heard him say behind me, his voice worried and already fading away as I moved through the crowd toward the bathroom.
Faces seemed to swarm around me, unsteady and out of focus in the flashing lights and semi-dark. My stomach roiled, and my mouth was dry. I’d been drunk before, but this wasn’t at all like Vienna. I felt almost detached from my body, and I could barely feel my feet on the floor.
In fact, my legs didn’t seem to want to work at all. It was like they were encased in concrete. I stumbled, barely staying upright as I moved toward the glowing bathroom sign.
It was when the sign became blurry as well that I realized something was very, very wrong. My hands groped blindly, looking for something, anything to grab onto, but there was nothing but confused faces turning my way and then dancing bodies moving away from me.
My pulse skyrocketed. The edges of the room were going black. I was going to pass out.
I tried to turn back, tried to find Gavin in the crowd, but I couldn’t focus on anyone or anything. My head was pounding, my tongue heavy in my mouth. Everything felt heavy. My legs couldn’t hold me up.
This whole night had been a terrible idea. I never should have come here.
I’d been trying to escape Stefan, to forget him, to force my heart to get over him, but that hadn’t worked at all. Instead, as my knees hit the floor, the tiles suddenly hot against my cheek as I slumped over, I saw my husband’s face in the crowd. Impossible.
But as I lay there on the floor, the darkness creeping in, it was his face I saw again, leaning down over me as he reached out a hand.
Even in this state, I couldn’t escape him.
His blazing green eyes were the last thing I hallucinated before I completely passed out.