Chapter 8 Magical
CHAPTER EIGHT
magical
REY
“Do you know something I don’t?” Robin asks. His deep voice vibrates through me, settling like a tickle between my thighs, making me flustered.
“What do you mean?” I ask, twirling to him against better judgement.
He leans closer, and I freeze. I’m so glad he can’t see me blushing right now.
“You were dancing like the world’s about to end. Do you have any intel I should be privy to?” His warm breath meets my cheek, and I’m struggling to focus.
“Hah,” I say, shaking myself. “You’re lucky I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.” I put my fists on my hips and puff out my chest in defiance, glaring at him from under my extra-long eyelashes.
“I’m lucky?” He smirks and looks me up and down. “What if it wasn’t?”
“Well.” I tap my toe, thinking, pretending to size him up the same way he did me. “I’d dance in circles around you until you apologised.”
He rubs his chin and chuckles in response.
“So, which is it?” I prompt.
He leans in again, and I pretend not to be affected, standing still.
“Oh, I’d say I’m shit out of luck. It was definitely a compliment, but I’d very much like to see that,” he says into my ear, and it sounds like he’s smiling.
Before I think too much about it, I let the rhythm pounding in the air work its way through my body and start twirling around him like a complete idiot pretending to be a ballerina. Because this way is the most fun.
I do a ridiculous version of a twerk, making my skirt bounce, then quickly spin into the inflatable tube man dance—rewarded by a hearty laugh from this delicious man, alongside some sideways glares from people around us.
Next up is the dab, and a swift transition to the Flerk.
My version of the old Floss. Never got the hang of the real deal when it was a thing, and my coordination hasn’t improved with time.
He laughs so hard he tilts his head back, a hand on his flat stomach, before saying, “You win. Please accept my apology!”
The tight group of people surrounding us shifts, and I’m pushed flush up against him. Warm, large hands find my elbows, and the proximity makes my knees weak. I look up at his face, and notice how the warm light dances off the chandelier behind his head.
“Look at this! Isn’t it beautiful?” I say, looking past him, but keeping him in my peripheral.
“It is indeed,” he says, his lips twitching upwards as he follows my gaze. “Have you seen it all yet?”
“I saw the aerial dancers in the Green Room, if that’s what you mean?” I look around at the breathtaking Pink Room we’re in. “I’m quite smitten with this place, actually.”
“If you haven’t seen the Blue Room yet, let me show you,” he demands, holding out a large hand.
“Yes!” I answer, and before I can think twice about it, I let him guide me through the throngs of people. He stops outside the ornamental wooden wardrobe I saw earlier, but where’s the next room?
The reflection of Alice and Robin Hood in the mirror with the dazzling scene behind us is quite something. The top of my head reaches up to his shoulder. Crikey, he’s tall. I’m pretty average at five feet three inches. Wonder what that makes him. He must be a foot taller, at least.
“We look good!” I say. He smiles, a wide grin revealing a perfect set of teeth, and it melts my brain.
He dips down. “Open the door,” he says into my ear, his breath tickling me and not at all helping the brain-melting situation.
“Really?” I ask, and open the wardrobe door. The excitement is palpable, as if Narnia will stretch out before us on the other side.
Behind the door masquerading as a wardrobe is a low-lit room with what looks like coral and seaweed pillars, and a mix of blues painted across the ceiling, giving it a magical underwater jungle feel. Shrieks of laughter sound from the other side, and I look closer at what’s going on.
Giant bubbles roll around.
“Are those people in there?” I mutter.
It is—they’re zorb balls!
“Wow, this is unreal!” I squeal. “Sorry, I sound like a child, but this is just … magical.” I didn’t know rich people did stuff like this.
None of the stories from this place reveal this kind of fun!
The talk is all about how mad these entitled and powerful people are, and what they get away with.
This place resembles a big kid’s birthday party more with each room I see. A well-kept secret.
Robin laughs behind me. “Have you ever been in one?”
“No, I haven’t,” I breathe, and turn back to look at him. He’s looking at me rather than the zorb people. “Have you?” I ask. “Is this a normal fixture in Mayfair nightclubs?”
He gives an imperceptible shrug. Maybe I shouldn’t let it show I’m not used to this kind of scene?
“Care to join me?” I ask after a beat.
He doesn’t answer right away, and I can sense a no coming, as if that’s what he’s used to saying, so I beat him to it; “I’ll take your hesitation as a resounding yes.
One over here, please!” I shout to the coordinator and pull Robin Hood with me.
His grunt of disapproval turns into a chuckle, and I know I’ve got him.
The zorb ball is too big for me to reach top to bottom, so, despite being strapped in and secure, I cling around his waist. We’re guided towards the coral maze and follow the path lit up on the floor.
“How do those people make it look so easy?” I ask as we stumble along, bumping into the walls and the zorb in front.
“Sorry!” I shout, although I don’t think they can hear me. “Robin, my stomach muscles are aching from laughing.”
“I know, my cheeks hurt,” he says with a hint of a laugh. “I’m used to sore muscles, but not in the face.” He laughs again, mixed with a groan of pain.
We bump around, laughing and squealing (okay, the last part is only my doing). When we come to the end, it’s like being taken from a snuggly cave onto a busy city street, and I just want to crawl back inside. With my arms around Robin again.
“Now what?” I ask, panting. Hoping I’ll get a chance to touch him again.
“A refreshing drink under the aerial dancers?”
“Yes!” I answer too quickly. Any thoughts of repercussions out the window. What Kirsten doesn’t know… I’m off the clock, right?
I drag him with me, weaving through the people dancing in the Pink Room, and find the Green Room I’d been to earlier.
The bartender is putting on a cocktail-making show, and it’s busier than ever. A loud clatter of a shaker going in the ground sounds above the noise, along with the deep voice of the bartender laughing and excusing himself.
“At least he’s having fun,” I say, and Robin chuckles. “But I don’t think we’ll get a drink here anytime soon.”
Robin stops near the edge of the bar and waves the bartender over. Despite being mid-cocktail-shaking, he makes his way towards us. They exchange nods, like some secret bro-code language, and the bartender discreetly tilts his head to the security guard in the corner.
Robin gestures towards an old, tall bookshelf.
I shrug and raise my eyebrows at him, although he probably can’t see that.
He leans in.
“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?” he asks. His voice rumbles in my ear, making my arm hairs stand on end.
YES.
“Sure?” I shrug.
I’m not about to melt into a puddle. Not me. Cool as a cucumber.
The guard pulls the large vintage bookshelf aside and gestures for us to enter. Too cool!
“After you,” he says.
We descend into a small, dark basement bar.
V-VVIP section is what this feels like. There are two couples in separate intricately carved wooden booths, huddled in low conversation; barely audible over the jazz playing in the background.
LED candles along the side wall flicker like actual flames, and the warm light dances off the empty cocktail glasses on their tables, making the purple-painted room sparkle.
This is perfect after the wild ride we just had.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
We glide past the people, who are unrecognisable in their costumes. They could be celebrities, royalty, who knows. It’s the night for anyone to come out and be free.
Could Robin be a celebrity?
Oh fuck, I hope not. Hope he’s just a business guest or something. Are business guests VVIP?
No, stop. It doesn’t matter right now.
Focus on the present. On this glorious man that’s here with me.
“Do you think Robin Hood would get with Alice if they met in Wonderland?” I ask as I slide across the dark velvet cushions of the far corner booth, not sure what to say. How the hell do I seduce a man in a bar?
Is that what I want to do? Seduce him?
It’s not like I can go home with him. He’ll go to bed with magical Alice and wake up with random Rey.
“Oh, never mind. She’s seven years old!” I babble.
He answers only with a low chuckle as he moves up next to me and places an arm on the table, effectively caging me in. It’s impossible not to appreciate the biteable curve of his biceps so close to me. And those lickable forearms.
He’s obviously strong. Much bigger than me. But I feel safe. Like I’m meant to be here.
“This Alice is old enough for anything, though,” I continue. “Not too old, of course. Just perfectly old. Young.” I’m flustered by his proximity and manly cologne, mixed with a light salty scent, which conjures up highly naughty images of this masked man on top of me.
He chuckles again and rubs his chin, making that biceps bulge, and I bite my lip to make sure I’m not drooling.
“You look perfectly perfect to me,” he says.
“Sorry, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to have a proper conversation,” I say, pulling my eyes away from his various muscles. “It’s my first time here, actually.” Yep, still not able to converse like a normal human.
“I would never have guessed,” he says, but I catch the sarcasm in his voice.
“That obvious, huh?” I grin. “Was it the squealing?”
“It hinted at the fact,” he says.
“This place is astonishing. I haven’t felt so free, so like … myself in a long time.”
Laughing. Dancing. This place. This costume. Talking to someone who doesn’t judge me with every look. And it fills me with so much energy.
I’ve never been this close to such a manly man. Forget my handful of mistakes of the past. This is a man.
I look at the large hand resting on the table. Sexy veins make their way up his wrist and muscular forearm. My skin aches for him to touch me.
Before I overthink it, I trace my fingers up his hand, exploring the very veins I was just admiring. I surprise myself with how forthcoming I am. Is this still me, or is it Alice? Am I brave because of the anonymity?
He sits still, but doesn’t stop me. How far will he let me go?