by Nicole Reed
Wrapping his arm around me, he kisses my forehead. “Okay, we are going to get you dressed up and hit the town. All our troubles are going to disappear, at least for tonight anyway.”
He stands, pulling me up with him. “Actually, you get cleaned up, and I’ll be back. On the way out, I’ll ask your mom if it’s okay if I crash here tonight. We are going to party it up,” he yells, walking out of my room.
Shaking my head at him, I realize that I’m ready, ready to live a little again. I haven’t let go and danced in so long. Jumping up, a spark of excitement makes me giggle. I head to my closet to think about what to wear. It definitely has to be something sexy, but not for a guy, for me.
Several hours later, I take one final look in the mirror. Last winter, I bought this dress on clearance, and then I completely forgot about it. It’s a body-hugging beige leather mini-dress with long sleeves and a scooped neckline. After digging through my closet, I found my leather knee-high boots and pulled them on. They are the perfect complement to my dress. Brushing my hair out, I leave it loose and let it cascade down my back. I hear Eli laughing in the kitchen with my mom and dad when I enter the foyer. I step through the door, and everyone stops with mouths agape. Eli lets out a slow whistle. My mom swivels her hand around, wanting me to turn, and I do. My father clears his throat, so I turn back around.
“Absolutely, not Jay. I’m not letting you out of the house in that,” he says, but his soft tone counteracts his statement.
“Leave her alone, Dale. You look so beautiful, Jay.”
“Thanks. So what’s the plan?” I ask Eli. He’s dressed in the usual country boy chic with a red baseball cap pulled low, black long-sleeved thermal shirt, and jeans.
“Dinner, then dancing. Well, you dancing and me sitting, because I don’t dance. Slow dances only.”
I shake my head at him.
“What time should I have her home?” he asks my parents.
The shock on their faces is priceless. I’ve never really had a curfew. It’s never even been discussed. Things have been different since I’ve been home, but I still haven’t had a curfew.
My mother looks at my father who shrugs his shoulders, and then turns back to us. “Not too late. Just be safe.”
“Well, I don’t drink, so no worries there. I just thought we would hang out downtown then head home,” Eli answers.
“That’s fine, Eli,” my mom replies.
I walk out of the kitchen to get my jacket, and Eli follows.
“Have you ever had a curfew?” he asks.
“No,” I answer.
“That would explain the confused looks.”
Laughing, I grab his hands and pull him outside. Winter has finally arrived in Georgia. I pull my jacket closed as Eli opens the passenger door of his blue 2010 Toyota 4Runner for me. Going back to his side, he gets in, and turns the heater up.
“Where do you want to eat?”
“How about we stop at that new hamburger joint?”
“Sounds good,” I say.
Turning up the music, we jam out as the latest rap song thumps through the speakers. I lay my head against the headrest, letting the anticipation of the night settle in my stomach. Bouncing my head to the beat, I sing the lyrics. It’s going to be a good night. We grab something to eat and then head downtown. I’m ready to feel tonight. Only one choice comes to mind. “Ever been to Vortex?” I ask him.
“Not really my scene. They don’t play any country, but I’ll sacrifice myself for the greater good tonight.”
Laughing, I look at him. He’s become one of my closest friends, and I’m so thankful he is in my life. It’s still early, so there is not a line when we arrive. I leave my jacket and purse in the car because I do not want to keep up with them; however, I do grab my I.D and phone. Giving my I.D. over to Eli, he shows them to the bouncer, and our hands are marked with an “under 21” stamp. Being here feels like yesterday, but it also feels like I’m a world away.
Walking in, I look around at the crowd starting to amass. Rhye’s band goes on stage later in the evening. Overhead, an assortment of rock, rap, and pop music plays to buy time before the live performance. Right now a mix of Santigold’s “Shove It,” blares in the background. Vortex is a converted warehouse. The stage sits on one side, opposite from the bar. In between, there are tables, u-shaped booths, and a small dance floor.
Eli reaches for my hand and maneuvers us to one of the u-shaped booths. My eyes immediately go to the back corner booth where five guys sit, cutting up around the table. Several girls are nestled in between them and laughing at whatever they are saying. Rhye sits to the side, nursing his beer and peeling the label; I immediately notice that none of the girls seem to be with him.
Sliding into the cushioned booth, Eli follows me in. The way we are seated, I can still lean over to see Rhye, but he can’t see me.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asks.
“You have a fake I.D. that I don’t know about?”
He laughs saying, “Fair enough. I’m going to go get me a Coke. I’ll be back.”
The music changes over to Bruno Mars “Locked Out of Heaven.” I mouth the words and tap my foot to the beat against the floor. Eli returns with a Coke for himself and a Sprite, which he sits down in front of me. Sipping the cool beverage, I lean back to see Rhye again, but he’s not there. Looking around, I don’t see him anywhere; he must have gone into the back. My phone buzzes with a text message.
Rhye – Be My <3.....come listen to me 2night at V
He’s referring to next week being Valentine’s Day.
Me – What’s in it for me?
Rhye – A song
Me – Is it going to piss me off?
Rhye – Probably....most everything I do does.
Me – Ass
Rhye – Tease
Me – You never know...I could be here now...listening to Bruno Mars
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him come rushing out of the back, wildly looking around.
“What are you looking at?” Eli follows my line of sight. “This should be good.”
“Let me out,” I say. Eli slides out of the booth with me behind him. Once I stand, he sits back down. Smoothing my dress, I continue to stare at Rhye who is still looking though groups of people. He looks back down at his phone, like it will lead him to me. An outburst of laughter escapes from deep within.
My laugh must carry over the music because he turns right towards me. Our eyes lock. He reaches my side in seconds, barreling through people to get here. His grin widens as his eyes finally leave mine to travel down my body and back up.
“Damn, Jay,” he says in awe. “Damn,” he repeats, looking at me again.
Returning the favor, I see that he is dressed in a black Mavs t-shirt and black skinny jeans, his normal wardrobe. The only difference for his stage presence is a couple of silver rings, a black wrist band, and a silver chain hanging from one belt loop to the other.
“Like what you see?” I can’t help but ask.
“Hell, yes,” he replies playfully.
I hear coughing behind me as Eli signals for introductions. Instantly, I remember that I’ve told Eli about Rhye but not Rhye about Eli. Turning, I look down at Eli, and Rhye does the same. His cheeks redden with anger. He’s pissed.
“Rhye, this is my friend Eli.”
Eli sticks his hand out to shake Rhye’s and replies, “Hi.”
Ignoring the formalities, Rhye looks at him and then back to me. “Are you on a date?”
“No, we are just hanging out.”
Eli speaks up from his seat, “Just friends.”
“Thanks Eli. I think I’ve got this.”
“Did you come here to see me tonight?” Rhye asks.
I take a deep breath. Answering this will probably damn me. Oh well. Either way, we will both likely get hurt. So here goes nothing. “Yes,” I reply.
Smiling, he finally reaches his hand to Eli. “Rhye.”
“I know,” Eli repl
ies.
“Let me get you both something to drink.”
“I’ll take something sweet,” I say, figuring just one drink can’t hurt.
“I have something already. Thanks though,” Eli says.
As a waitress passes, he orders us both something and turns back to me.
A slow and easy melody starts playing, and I hear Rhye whisper, “Perfect.” Turning towards me, he grabs my hand, looks into my eyes, and says to Eli, “Excuse us. They’re playing our song.”
Rhye pulls me through the throngs of people until we reach a corner on the dance floor. He places his hands on my hips and pulls me close. Bringing my face to his, I circle my arms around his neck. We sway to the sexy beat as he rubs his pelvis against mine. Moving his mouth to my ear, he softly sings the lyrics, “How dare you say it’s nothing to me? Baby, you’re the only light I ever saw.” He hums the remainder of the song, and the vibration of his voice tickles my ear. I stroke the soft skin on the back of his neck with my thumbs, and goose bumps emerge. His lips trail down my neck as he draws me closer, leaving no space between us.
I’m hyperaware of every breath he takes, every stroke of his hands, and every subtle movement. I never want this to end. This closeness of being with someone is addictive. Our bodies move gracefully, in sync with the music, as John Mayer sings, “Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.” In this moment, the lyrics make so much sense. Rhye was right; if we had a song about our relationship, it would be this one. I lift my head and look into his eyes. The truth greets me, but choosing to ignore it for now, I rest my head on his chest.
The song plays out and another slow one replaces it, but the intimate moment is over. Pulling back slightly, I look up at him. “What’s the song’s name?”
In confusion, he asks, “What song?”
“The one you’re going to sing me tonight.”
“Oh ‘One More Night’,” he answers.
Not knowing exactly how to reply, I change the subject. “Were you surprised to see me?”
“Yes, and you almost started a bar brawl. Damn, I thought I was going to smash that kid’s face in.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Jay, had he been your actual date, it would have been on. You’ve been holding me at a distance, and I respect that, but it better apply to everyone. You feeling me on this?”
I know what he is saying, and it pisses me off. “We are not in a relationship, Rhye.”
“And we probably never will be,” he finishes, confirming what I saw in his eyes earlier. “I’m okay with that, Jay. But understand this: the times we do hang out, it’s just us. I don’t need or want to hear about anyone else, and I sure as hell don’t want to see them. In fact, send Eli home, I’ll take you home after my set.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“Both, he’s my sober driver, and he’s spending the night.”
He comes to an abrupt stop, and his voice rises with every word. “What the hell do you mean he is spending the night with you? At your house? I thought your mom didn’t travel anymore?”
Stepping away from him, I turn to walk away, but he grapples with my arm and pulls me into a darkened corner. With a rap song’s bass beating loudly, he pulls me in close so I can hear him. Putting his mouth next to my ear, he commands, “Talk.”
It’s not my place to speak for Eli. I respect him way too much for that, but I’m not sure how to get myself out of this one. “No.”
Rhye doesn’t look amused. “No?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I came to dance and hang out with you and Eli. He and I are strictly friends. You just have to trust me about that.” “Poltergeist” by the Deftones pumps out of the speakers, and the hauntingly dark chords call to me. Swaying to the music, I wrap my arms around Rhye’s neck and pull him down to my mouth. “Dance with me?” I ask.
Rhye groans, “Can I spend the night, too?”
Laughing, I say, “I don’t think my mom will go for that, but would it make you happy to know that my parents are home and he is sleeping far away from me.”
Nodding, he pulls me back to the dance floor. He grips my hips again, and I rest my hands on top of his, intertwining our fingers. My body is pressed solidly against his as he rocks his hips into mine. We dance through the next several songs, letting sweat coat our bodies. Our movements are synchronized, a prelude of what could be.
“I’m thirsty. Let’s go,” he says into my ear.
Working our way off the dance floor, we make it back to the booth. As soon as I see Eli, I feel guilty. He sits, tapping his fingers against the table. Throwing myself next to him, I say, “I’m so sorry. I got caught up dancing.”
“I noticed, but it’s cool. That’s why we came. I’m just glad that I don’t have to dance. Here is the drink they brought you,” he replies pushing a red concoction towards me.
Picking it up, I take a small sip, and my lips pucker at the sweet yet sour taste. Yummy. Vodka and cranberry juice.
“Slide over,” Rhye directs, pushing me further into the booth. Eli and I scoot over to make room for him. I see him motion to the waitress for two more drinks and some shots. “So, how did you two meet?”
Eli and I look at each other as we burst out laughing. How do you tell someone that you met in the “nut-house.” Just doesn’t work. People don’t get it.
“We met in therapy,” Eli answers.
Good one. Works for me, and I can tell by Rhye’s expression that it does for him as well. The waitress returns with another drink for me and an array of liquor shots. I remember from dating Rhye before that each performance is prefaced with several shots to alleviate a small bout of stage fright.
“Liquid courage,” he says, picking one up and downing it. He motions for Eli to join him.
“Sorry, I don’t drink alcohol,” he smiles saying.
Rhye looks at me, shrugs his shoulders, and nudges me to grab one. I shake my head, holding my drink up to indicate that one was enough.
Leaning down to kiss my cheek, Rhye says, “Off to sing for my supper.” With a wink, he walks away to get ready for the show.
“What do you think? Honestly?”
“I get why you’re attracted to him. Bad boy rocker and all, but other than that, I don’t see it.”
“I definitely don’t see forever, and neither does he.”
“Yeah, but are you ready for a one-night stand? Or anything short term? I’m just so worried that the fire between you guys would burn out as quickly as it ignites. I thought short-term would be good for you, but now, I’m not feeling it, and I’m not sure you are either.”
Looking around the bar, I spot someone. This really cannot be happening. I hear Eli talking, but I’m not listening. My heart just walked through the door with someone else -- a blonde someone else with big boobs. I freaking knew it. That no-good-lying-dog! Well, lying because he denied that was his type of girl.
Snapping his fingers in front of my face, Eli beckons for my attention. “You have an attention deficit problem. I really hate when you zone out.”
“You want to know what I hate, Eli? I hate ex-boy...friends or whatever he is, who lie and show up on the one night you decide to go out. Well, you’ve been wanting to meet him, so there he is.”
Motioning to the couple at the bar, Eli asks, “Kane?”
Nodding my head, we both stare. Kane is dressed in dark jeans, black knit sweater, and black boots. His hair has been buzzed short, and the low neckline shows off the written tattoo on his neck.
“Well, I have to say, you know how to pick’em.”
“Don’t I just,” I say, grabbing one of Rhye’s shots and downing it. Sucking in air as the stout liquor burns all the way down my chest, I continue to stare at them.
The blonde beside him smiles at something he says. Her short curly hair makes her look younger than she probably is. She has on a white button-up shirt, jeans, and boots. Her glossy red-lipstick makes her look like a two-dollar whore. G
rabbing two more shots, I turn them, up one after another. The second one doesn’t burn as bad going down, but the warmth spreads throughout my stomach.
“Slow down, chugger. I don’t think you want to be praying to the porcelain gods tonight, and I’m betting you haven’t had alcohol in months.”
“HA-HA!” I say rather loudly. My lips start to feel a little fuzzy. I don’t want Kane to see me sitting down and not having a good time. I start to slide out of the booth, but my leather dress sticks to the vinyl seat. Ugh! Finally maneuvering out, I turn to make sure Kane did not see that bit of humiliation. Thank God he didn’t. Signaling to Eli, I mouth, “Get up. Hurry!”
“What are we doing?”
Grabbing Eli’s hand, I lace our fingers together and tug him until he follows me.
“This is a bad idea. For the record, I already feel how much of a bad idea it is. I swear, Jay. If you get me punched, kicked, or assaulted in any way tonight, our friendship is over. Got it?”
“Quit whining, Eli. We are just getting closer to the stage to see Rhye.”
“Oh...that’s even better. Didn’t you tell me that Kane can’t stand Rhye? Just for the record, your boy over there is double my size and Rhye’s. I think he can take us both out with no problems.”
“Nobody is taking you out… well, except me if you don’t play along,” I hiss at him. Finally, I get to a place off to the side of the stage on a raised dais. Forcing Eli behind me, I move to stand in front of him with our hands still intertwined. Hearing him clear his throat, I turn my head back to glance at his disgruntled expression.
“Let me get this straight. You are trying to make the guy, who we both know you are insanely in love with, jealous with your gay soon-to-be ex-friend? If you get me hit while your boy-toy serenades you with love songs, I swear, Jay,” he snorts loudly. “Trust me. You don’t need me to piss him off, and you’re about to do just that. Just being in the same place as Rhye while he sings to you is enough. As your friend, my advice is that we get the hell out of here before Kane sees you.”
