4. Michael
Michael
A t the touch of her skin, the first thing that hits me is an electrical jolt blazing through my body as she drags her hand across my chest, leaving a fiery trail in its wake.
As she grasps my hand, hot pulses travel from where our fingers connect, rushing all the way up to my racing heart.
A taut wire binds us together, growing stronger and sending a pleasant humming through my veins.
The second thing I realize is that she’s holding on to me despite the suffocating crowd. Strong. Like she isn’t going to let go. Now that is a grip I can appreciate.
“I’m all yours,” I repeat as I draw her in close to me.
People are crushing us on all sides, cheering and jumping as Wisin y Yandel blasts through the speakers, and I put my arm around her shoulders protectively.
I don’t care if she thinks I’m being too forward; I don’t want anyone to crash into this woman.
There’s just a moment’s hesitation from her before she sinks into my chest, our hands still clasped, and I can feel her heart thumping against mine.
This must be heaven.
We stand there, the music swirling around us, enveloping us in our own private cloud where nothing exists but the beat of the melody and our hearts in time.
I close my eyes for just a minute, memorizing this moment. Knowing this is where everything I’ve been waiting for falls into place. We’re right here where we belong.
Together.
Happy birthday to me indeed.
My mind quiets even as I open my eyes and take in every feature of her face.
She has a tiny beauty mark above her kissable lips that’s just dying for my tongue.
Her eyes look up at mine, wide and searching, and I wish I knew what’s going through her gorgeous head.
But the one thing I do know is that she’s mine.
I don't even know her name yet, but my soul recognizes hers. This is how it happened for my parents, my grandparents, and now, finally, it’s my turn.
Peace washes over me as I press her close to my heart. It’s like every question I’ve ever had is answered now that she’s here in my arms.
When I’d rolled up to the club, I didn’t have any expectations for the night, other than trying to avoid that gnawing loneliness made worse by staring at four walls or another episode of The Sopranos .
Figured I’d have a few beers with the guys and surround myself with people for a bit.
It was better than another night at the townhouse alone thinking about how my birthday is in a few days and I haven’t made plans.
Twenty-five. A quarter of a century old. If I was with my family, they’d be throwing a huge party.
Walking into L’Aventura had been a pleasant surprise. The DJ knew his music, even bringing out some Buena Vista Social Club in addition to Celia Cruz and Marc Anthony. The energy in the place was warm, smothering, and entirely too loud.
Felt just like home. I grinned.
It hadn’t taken long to locate Adam and some of the other guys from work.
His girlfriend Janice had greeted me with a soft hug that reminded me of how much I missed my sister.
I think the two of them would get along; they’re both natural caregivers.
She’d told Adam in her sweet little bossy voice to get me a drink to celebrate, but I’d quickly reassured her I could grab one of my own.
The club prided itself on its variety of tequila, but I wasn’t up for that level of alcohol tonight. Instead I’d opted for a Red Stripe; not all bars carried it, so this place was already rising in my estimation.
As I settled back against the wall where the group was hanging out, I took a long swig of the spicy beer and cast my eyes over the crowd, allowing the ambience to wash over me.
There was no shortage of beautiful women, to be sure, and two girls standing close by started giving me the eye. Good looks were one thing, but neither appealed to me so I let my gaze roam past them to the dancers on the floor.
The vibe of this place was seeping into my skin, and I felt the bass in my veins, my pulse pounding to match the beats.
My feet started tapping of their own accord.
Latin music is hard to resist for anyone, and impossible when it’s in your blood.
I hadn’t danced since I left Charlotte, but maybe I’d end up asking one of those girls after all.
My eyes continued to wander over the dance floor, admiring the skill levels from I’ve-been-doing-this-since-birth to newbie-hot-mess-express.
And then froze.
On her .
The whole world stopped. The music, the dancers, everything around me stilled. Even my heart forgot how to beat.
All I could see was her.
Confidence radiated from her in shimmering waves, falling over her gorgeous body.
And a Voice inside my head spoke, clear as a bell,
“By the way, that’s your wife.”
I stood transfixed, my lungs ceasing to function. Who needed oxygen in the presence of this beauty? I could just breathe her in instead. Press my mouth to hers, inhaling her essence… that’s all I needed. From now to eternity.
After all this time, was this the night I met the one ? And if so, how the hell did I get so lucky?
My eyes didn’t know where to look first. I couldn’t take all of her in quickly enough. She shone like an angel amidst the chaos around her, and it took all of my willpower not to march straight over there, take her in my arms, and make her mine.
Especially when I saw she was dancing with that little prick Matt. He works in my office, plays hockey with us sometimes. Harmless, but annoying.
At least he wasn’t touching her. At the moment.
My clenched fists uncurled a bit, and I decided to stand back and watch.
Play it cool. If this really was my person, I could take my time.
Evaluate. Determine how best to approach her.
I let my eyes sweep over her again. She was absolutely stunning, and the pull I’d felt a moment before was only intensifying.
No question. She was most definitely mine .
I took a deep breath. I wouldn’t let my temper ruin this moment. This was too important. I could be patient. I needed to be patient.
She wouldn’t be going home with him tonight.
Anyone without cataracts could see that Matt had zero rhythm but was strutting around like a peacock putting on a show. He’d kept a safe distance, and I wondered if she was just tolerating his presence or if he’d already tried to cop a feel.
He better not have touched her.
She was nodding along to whatever he was saying, but her eyes were darting around the club at the same time. She wasn’t into him. It was obvious, but apparently not to him as he continued to contort himself into strange positions. He could use some lessons from the Nature channel.
I’d settled into a comfortable spot on the sidelines, my shoulder blades pressed against the brick wall.
This was as good a spot as any to scope her out.
I wouldn’t call myself a gentleman with how my pulse was racing, but I’d rather wait for her to disengage from this peabrain before stepping in to make my move.
Observing her movements, she seemed a little hesitant as she found her stride, but she was clearly no stranger to dancing.
Her moves matched the rhythms like a pro.
When Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” came on, she screamed just as loudly as everyone else and threw herself into the hard bass. Ah, so my girl liked reggaeton.
All I could do was watch. And admire. And if I was honest, salivate. My jeans weren’t this tight when I got here.
Her hips dropped, swaying seductively in time to the sensual lyrics, hands rising up in the air as she undulated her body to the beat.
I’d swallowed thickly and had to adjust myself, taking a quick sip of my beer to cool down.
My eyes couldn’t decide which part they wanted to view first, her dark hair slicked up into a bun, the silver halter top caressing every curve, or that sinfully biteable ass bouncing to the beat.
But more than her luscious curves, I wanted—no, needed —her to see me. I could’ve walked over and made my move. I sure as hell wanted to. But I restrained myself. I needed to know.
I wanted her to look at me, to see if this intense connection that I was feeling went both ways. That she felt this insatiable draw as well. She didn’t look like someone who needed a man, who needed anybody. But I needed her to want me. To choose me .
Look up, beautiful , I willed in my head. I want you to look at me.
My hungry eyes bore down on her, and just like that, her gaze came to rest on mine.
Her eyes widened slightly, and she blinked once, then twice.
She stopped stock-still amidst the people dancing around her, looking directly at me as I met her gaze.
Her expression morphed from shock, to curiosity, to desire.
Yes , my heart thumped in my chest. That halo kept on shimmering, shining on her and her alone.
She swallowed, and I smiled at her, trying to tamp down the urge to rush over and take her now.
My hand shook as I lifted my beer, pointing the bottle toward her as confirmation.
Telling her she was the only one I saw.
The one .
My one and only .
I don’t know her favorite color, her birthday, or even her name. I just know she’s meant to be mine.
God, I hope she feels the same way.
I was aching to walk over and start learning all about her. But something told me to stay still, that it wasn’t the right time yet, to let her come to me. So I waited.
And then two bad things happened at once.
Matt reached out to touch her hip, and my phone buzzed from my back pocket. Isabella’s ringtone. One I couldn’t ignore.
Scowling that he dared to place his hands on my woman but knowing I had to answer, I reluctantly stepped away from my post and veered toward the bathrooms where it was quieter.
Ignoring the couples against the walls who had chosen the same spot to make out and hump, I found an alcove where I could pick up the call.