28. Chapter 28
Mariana
The mood between Dom and me at the club is one-eighty from the last time we were here.
We're laughing and chatting with his friends, and sometimes we even engage with each other.
We're not sitting side by side this time, and a few smiles have been shared across the space.
He's on the booth bench against the wall, between Saint and Evie, and I am at an angle from him on an armchair next to Bear and Pen, and Nat and Damián.
He's trying not to gaze at me too much, but I'm failing at doing the same.
Impossible not to want to drink the view of him, wearing light tan pants and a chocolate brown button down, both fitting him so well I wonder if he had them handmade.
In my head, a very lucky someone got to stitch his outfit right onto him.
Pulling and tucking fabric in all the right places.
Trying desperately to appear professional, when the man's pheromones could make anyone dizzy.
"We're doing good. We're fine," Bear says. "Our first loss in thirteen weeks is still strong, especially on the way out to a late break. Just one game lost."
"And we're out tonight, having fun," Damián adds. "We'll take time to recover and come back stronger for our December games."
"Logically, sure," Dom argues, "but please. We all hate losing."
A mix of groans and understanding sounds fill the mezzanine.
"We need to have fun." Saint stands. "Ames— dance with me?"
He offers her a hand and she gets up with a grin and shining eyes.
"Here?" she asks, with a tone that says she wouldn't mind. "Let's ask them to play bachata."
Saint smiles back and brings her close. "Let's. But we may want to go downstairs. You know how we get with bachata."
"There are cameras everywhere," Bear says. "Remember that."
Saint winks at him. "Not everywhere."
"And you're just telling us now?" Pen asks.
They laugh, but this is a story I don't fully know. I was part of the meetings where the team discussed official consequences for Bear and Pen, after a video of them leaked from the club, but I don't know how all that came to happen. I steal a glance at Dom. All he does is wink at me.
"Rafa," Saint calls. "Do you want to go meet someone downstairs and dance the night away?"
The offensive tackle is out with the group again tonight. From what I've heard through the night, he's only been out with the group once more than I have, and it's still a pretty rare thing.
"Nah," he says. "I don't know if this is my scene after all."
Nat frowns. "No? We can find other things to do if you still want to go out more."
"Brunch is always an option," Saint suggests.
"And if you want to meet someone, we can help with that too," Bear adds.
Rafa smirks and stares back at his friends.
I study him. He's as tall and attractive as the rest of the guys, with some bulk to him that comes from muscle as much as light padding.
Like Bear, though smaller. Dressed in black trousers and a sand-colored sweater that looks incredibly comfortable and soft.
If he wanted, he wouldn't have trouble meeting someone.
"Appreciate it," he says. "But I'm still figuring out what I want.
All I know is I don't think I'll find it here.
I never planned to have to flirt and seduce anyone ever again— anyone other than my wife, that is.
I can't imagine going down there and finding someone to dance the night away with. I'm way too rusty."
Everyone responds to his words with understated acceptance.
They nod with such casual gestures on their face, it's clear they've had conversations about it that I'm not privy to.
The man is a widower who, as far as I know, has devoted the past few years to raising his daughter alone.
That sounds like the kind of thing that complicates the idea of dating.
It casts a new light on my situation. Sure, I'm leaving. And yeah, I need to be careful not to let my heart get ahead of itself, and ignore the caution labels I've stuck to my memories of Dom. But I have a plan. As long as I follow it, everything will be okay.
"Anyone else for dancing?" Ames asks. "Mariana? How do you feel about finding a dance partner for the night?"
"Oh, no, I'm good," I say. "I'm having fun up here."
"You don't like dancing?" She cocks her head. "I swear, the lot of you are missing out."
"I like dancing," I clarify. "But I don't know how to dance bachata."
"I know someone who could teach you. Dom?" Saint asks. "Friends can teach friends how to dance, and I know you like dancing."
Dom leans back in the poster pose of a man with no worries.
He arches an eyebrow in his friend's direction. "You're going to get yourself in trouble, you know that?"
"Am I? Whatever for?" Saint 's eyebrows rise in confusion. "I am not meddling. I'm just doing the polite thing and making sure to invite my single friends dancing, too."
"Rafa already said no," Evie says with a grin. "But if you both like dancing, you could have fun together. No strings attached."
Dom gives me a quick glance, before he crosses his arms. It's the first sign he'll decline. Good. We're still on the same page, and I don't think we could keep things secret for long if we tried.
"Unless things have changed," Dom says, "Mariana hates being led."
I smirk. Back in college, he insisted on dancing with me.
He would hold me close and instruct me to feel him move, and to let my body respond to his.
As long as we danced slowly, I could loosen up enough to follow.
The moment he sped up or tried to guide me with a flick of his wrist or the curve of his arm, I lost all sense of rhythm.
After some time, he gave up trying to teach me, and made the most of it by taking advantage and keeping me extra close, and moving extra slow, regardless of the song.
I shrug. "Dom's right. I don't know how to dance with someone else."
"Wow," Nat says. "Is this metaphorical?"
"It's true," I insist. "I can dance and have a good time and move to the music. The moment I'm supposed to dance with someone else, or follow their moves, or have them try to follow mine, I freeze."
Dom stares at me with intensity. I know what he's thinking— how at the end of those ten months together, we'd found a way to dance together.
I mostly did whatever and he adapted. He molded himself to me, and my body melted against him.
And the pressure of his arms around me, and his sparkling eyes locked with mine, would make me feel like we swayed on clouds.
Lots of laughter, every time. Hours of moving while in each other's arms, gazing at each other lovingly.
Such beautiful moments I kept close to my heart.
"There must have been ballroom dancing with the royals," Pen says.
"Ballroom style could never compare," I laugh. "We all know that. I'm not going to dance tonight."
"Maybe you will, Dom?" Saint asks. "It's been a while, after all."
Dom cocks his head. "Are you inviting me to join you two?"
He gets up and approaches them. I perk up. No idea what he's doing, but it's a great diversion.
Dom undoes a couple of buttons at his chest, and adds an extra roll to his sleeves. "I'll be a third wheel and dance with you both. I'll be oblivious to how much you want privacy. I will block your path every time you try to escape to that nook of yours."
Some teasing ooohs and ahhhs pop around me. I don't join them. I'm too busy admiring his long legs and full thighs and ass combo. That confident strut of his. The wide, strong shoulders, and those forearms that could be used as an example in the dictionary entry for the female gaze. Yum.
But Ames' mouth hangs open. Saint's eyes narrow, and his mouth purses in a mix of humor and annoyance.
"You know about the nook?" Ames asks.
"I guess he does," Saint tells her, then to Dom, "but we're not inviting you to dance with us. I thought you liked dancing and you'd want to make the most of the bye week."
"I have my own ways to make the most of the break," Dom says.
I hope he means lots of sex with me.
"Including interfering in your business," he adds, "if you're going to interfere with mine."
People laugh, including me.
Saint's eyebrows go up his forehead. "Okay, then. My bad. I still need to wrap my head around you not dating anymore. And I really meant dancing."
"It's unnerving to see our playboys changing their ways." Damián turns to Rafa. "First Saint, Now Dom. You should have seen them before. It's definitely an adjustment."
Evie shakes her head like she doesn't fully get the mood. "Where did this go wrong?"
"If that's the case…" Dom sighs. "Maybe I should go dance with someone. Just so you all leave me alone."
I pull my lips to the side. He raises an eyebrow, right as his hands open another button. And another. To tease me. To give me a single chance to go dance with him. To tempt me or throw his friends off the scent, depending on my choice.
Bear sniggers. "Keep undressing and you'll have no problem finding someone to dance with."
"Striptease!" Nat exclaims.
People from nearby booths and sitting areas start clapping too. Of course they've been paying attention. A group of well-known, sexy people gathering in public? It will always draw the eye.
Especially when the hottest of them all plays with the button placket of his shirt, teasing the garment open, like he's edging us before undoing the next one.
Dom's grin is slow and arrogant. His sight locks with mine. He opens another button. That brown shirt is now open two-thirds of the way down, allowing tattoos and tan light brown skin to peek. I return the look with a smug smile. I'm sure some people notice that our eyes hold for once.
I raise an eyebrow and fake disinterest by getting my phone out. Like the view of him doesn't warm me up from the inside. As if it doesn't make me want to scream at him to stop undressing, because everything he's showing off is supposed to be mine and only mine… for a few weeks.
I cross my legs as though I'm relaxing and type a text that gets sent to Dom's number.
My screen is a good excuse not to gaze at him, and I stay on it a bit longer.
I add a bored tilt to my mouth. It's the final touch in this performance, designed to convince people that the tight end's display does nothing for me.
Meanwhile, I feel all the things I pretend I don't. Including eagerness for his response to my message.
"Nah," Dom finally says, and he closes a couple of buttons. "I'm good. I have plans for the week."
Discontented noises erupt from nearby tables. Dom pats his chest as an apology, letting everyone know he's sorry to disappoint them, and goes back to his seat. He relaxes into it like he's at the beach.
Saint points at him with an accusing finger. "What a show, Dominic. Just you wait."
Dom shrugs.
Saint holds Ames' hand. "Time to dance, Bella."
They leave. Some people tease Dom, the ribbing coming from the friend group and other witnesses alike. I keep my eye on him. He laughs and dismisses everyone when they ask about his plans.
"You've never asked before." Dom frowns. "I don't know what's different this time."
"I'm trying to get my bearings," Rafa says. "I hadn't seen the night edition of this group before."
"And this break from dating is unexpected," Damián says. "We don't know what to think."
"You'll survive the mystery." Dom finally takes his phone out of his pocket and gets on it while answering everyone else. The picture of an unaffected man, checking his notifications. "Turns out, I have a private life that I don't have to share with you all…"
The sentence dies a slow death through his parted lips. His eyes open wide.
I know what he's reading.
Mariana: You're such a tease. What would you do if I played the same game?
Because I'm wearing red lipstick and I'm sure you'd love my mouth on your cock.
So imagine me on my knees, sucking you off, smearing your beautiful dick in red.
Tell me where that nook is and I'll let you fuck me until it mixes with your cum inside me.
Bend me over and crack my back, Dominic.
"Everything okay?" Evie asks him.
"Yeah—" Dom croaks and clears his throat. "Yeah. Just— nevermind."
He puts his phone back in his pocket. His drink waits for him on a side table, untouched for at least an hour, but he reaches for it like it's water and he's been lost in the desert for a week.
"I think I'm calling it a night," I say. "I'll get a car."
Before I do so, I send him an extra text.
Mariana: I lied— this lipstick won't come off, but I can still suck you off. If you like, wait half an hour and come to my place. I'll wait for you. We can start bye week with a bang.
"It's not too late." Pen frowns. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm okay." I keep tapping on my phone, this time busy getting a car. "Just tired, and it's not a bye week for us, right? I have too much work to do for the gala, before I go on my trip with Cora at the end of the week."
The guys have an away game right after the break, so Dom will be away when I come back to Seattle. To me it means we need to make the most out of the next few days.
"Do you need a bodyguard tonight?" Evie asks.
"No, it's fine." I smile at them. "I know what to expect now."
And though Dom's eyes and mine only cross once, I trust he'll read my text soon and follow me home.