7. CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
The thump of heavy bass enveloped us as Emil and I climbed to the fifth floor of a building a short walk from the restaurant. He led the way with me following close behind. When the door opened, the blaring noise blocked out any other sound.
Emil’s hand reached for me, and I grabbed it as he pulled me into the thick sway of the crowded club. He guided me toward the crammed center of the room where the mirror behind the bar reflected back the laser lights cutting erratic patterns through the blackness.
Emil paused. I could see his mouth move, but that was all.
“What?” I yelled.
“Drinks?” he said, leaning in to shout right next to my ear.
I spoke directly into his as I squeezed his hand. “I’ll get them.”
He shook his head. Playing the “who pays first game” was going to grow old fast in this din.
“I don’t want to lose you in all this,” I bellowed instead. “Let’s just go up together.”
He responded by yanking me along, his warm hand easily encircling mine with room to spare. We moved with the crowd and squished against the bar .
I couldn’t hear what he ordered, but he turned to me, gesturing to the bartender.
“Gin martini,” I told Emil, and he passed it on.
As we waited, I surveyed the club. People pulsed to the rhythm, dripping in sweat. The closer to the epicenter, the more sensual the bump-and-grind became. I raised my eyebrows at Emil with a questioning look.
He ducked his head, shrugging.
Our drinks arrived, and we both downed them purely out of thirst in the dead heat. When the last dregs were gone, he was pulling me forward again.
Maybe I should buy him a leash. I held back a bark of laughter at the thought.
Thankfully, he was drawing me outside onto a terrace with views of the shimmering town below. It was still busy, but much quieter.
Emil found a small space along the railing and let me go ahead of him so I could get a better look. He stood behind me, both of his hands resting on the barrier, circling me in with his body and tanned arms. A shiver that had nothing to do with the breeze five stories up tickled my skin.
“So, this is your scene, huh?” I teased.
“You sound surprised.”
“I don’t know you. I have no right to be surprised.”
He sighed. “I’m not sure why I like it. I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Masses of people aren’t my thing.”
I twisted my head around enough to reach his eyes. He looked down at me, completely serious.
“You’re right. This is an odd choice for a hermit.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile at his own expense, and I returned a coy smirk before facing back toward the view.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replied. “I do enjoy solitude and get it where I can. I don’t always have the time to go away from town to find it, but here…”
“Lost in a crowd,” I realized.
He nodded, his chin brushing against the back of my head.
I spun around, my elbows and butt pressed to the cold railing. “It makes sense.”
He was so close, and for just a moment, his eyes wandered down to my lips. “Do you want another drink? I can go.”
That same twist in my stomach pulled tight.
“It’s okay. I’ll get them this time. What would you like?”
His gaze was unblinking, making me uncomfortable. I tore my eyes away, clearing my throat quietly.
“Beer is fine,” he said at last. He raised his arm so I could duck under, and I wove back inside.
It didn’t seem possible, but the gathering had grown even more cramped. I kept my hands clamped to my thighs to avoid touching others, but it was inevitable as bodies pressed against mine. I finally made it to the edge of the bar and was waiting for our drinks when a man approached and grabbed my hand, trying to coax me out onto the dance floor.
I flinched, then offered a nervous laugh. I waved him off, but he wouldn’t take the hint. His pulls became more insistent. I dug my heels in, my arm becoming the rope in a tug-of-war between us. Panic ripped through my chest, and my breathing quickened.
“No!” I yelled, giving a furious yank.
Suddenly, I was flying backward as I was released. Luckily, I hadn’t been dragged too far from the bar, so I simply landed against its sopping-wet surface. I pushed my hair out of my face in time to watch Emil take the man by the shoulders and shove him toward the terrace. They were both swallowed by the crowd before Emil was fighting his way back through to find me.
“Are you all right? ”
My heart was still racing. Sweat beaded along my feverish skin. I didn’t even try to rearrange whatever telltale panic was surely still flashing across my face, and instead covered it with a quick nod.
“Do you want to leave?”
Part of me wanted to go, but no, I wasn’t going to let this be the end of our evening. I shook my head. “No, I’m all right.”
I tried to compose myself as the bartender handed over our drinks. Emil sipped his while I finished mine in a few gulps. He watched me carefully as I set my glass back on the bar. He followed suit, though his was only a third empty.
He held out a hand. “Come with me.”
My gaze swooped over the crowd for any sign of the man from earlier. I couldn’t even remember his face, just the impression of his hand on my wrist. I eyed Emil’s waiting fingers, and my heart calmed a little as mine intertwined with his.
Wordlessly, he cut a path through the faceless people. The room was curved, shaped like a jelly bean. He led me to the inside bend, close to the wall, and stood still as everyone moved around us. I wondered what came next, but Emil just watched me, waiting.
I shook my head, perplexed.
His eyes ticked up, and I followed their direction, staring at the ceiling.
It took a moment. The laser lights mounted on either end of the room shot out beams toward the opposite wall where the bar was. But because of the curve, they didn’t quite hit the center, so our little slice of the dance floor remained dark, out of the spotlight.
Lost in the crowd.
I looked down.
Emil leaned in again. “It’s just us.”
His fingertips skimmed hesitantly down my arms, halting above my wrists. His look was a question, and my hands answered. They moved his down to rest at the top of my hips. With one step forward, I forced them to move around to my lower back, my body resting against his. His chest was firm, solid against mine. Not the bodybuilder kind, but athletic, toned from an active life. I could feel the hum of music outside and the buzz of drink inside as they coordinated to take over my body. We joined in with the disconnected crowd, uninhibited by worries of being watched here in our little corner of solitude.
For the second time tonight, we danced, each step a little smoother, each move heating the beautiful tension between us. Suddenly, he spun me on the spot so I landed with my back to him, his hands moving along my hip bones. I swayed beneath them and felt, rather than heard, a slight groan rumble in his chest. My hands reached overhead, winding behind his neck. Without thinking, my fingers raked the hair at the base of his skull, and he pulled me against him gently. One of his hands ventured up, skimming across my ribs.
And I froze.
My body, my mind, my heart came to a breakneck standstill.
Catapulted out of the moment, he mimicked me, his hands stopping their trail. In the next second, they were gone entirely, along with his warm heat. My heart resumed at a rabbit’s pace. I turned in a slow circle, but he was right there behind me, mere inches of space between us. His gaze was a mix of caution and worry.
“Are you okay?” I asked. Whatever had caused me to respond was snuffed out with the absence of his touch.
He watched me closely. “Are you ready to leave?”
I nodded, not sure, but anything to break this icy moment. He motioned toward the exit, and I led the way downstairs.
My head felt clearer on firm ground and away from the heavy music. We walked side by side, but not touching. I hoped he might offer his hand once more, but both were tucked deep into his pant pockets.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked when the silence stretched.
“No.” He sounded surprised.
“Okay. ”
He turned toward the river, but I stopped. “Where are you going?”
“Walking you to your room,” he said, like it was obvious.
“You don’t have to go out of your way,” I said, uncertain if it even was. “I know where it is from here.”
His jaw tightened. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something has been bothering you.”
“It’s been a long trip,” I justified. I offered a consoling smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m just a little tired.”
His feet remained firmly planted toward the bridge. “Then I don’t want you getting lost so you can sleep well.”
Apparently he was stubborn. Duly noted.
“All right, thank you.”
He walked me to my building, saying a simple, “Goodnight,” before turning back the way we’d come.
“Emil?”
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder.
“I had a wonderful time.” The eagerness in my voice was thick as I grasped to hold on to the magic of the evening before it had turned sour.
His back straightened, his eyes narrow. “Me, too.”
I wanted to ask him if I’d see him again. I wanted to see him again. But his body language was cold, closed off. After what must have seemed erratic behavior on my part back at the club, I guess I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t prepared to share my why with someone else, even if just to explain. A piece of me wanted to, but…not yet. Not even to a stranger as nice as him.
“Goodnight,” I said, my voice small.
He nodded and left.