by Lauren Runow
I drop my head in embarrassment, not sure how to respond.
“Hey—” he puts his hand on my arm, making me look up at him “—I’m just kidding. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I get it. A pretty girl like you must get hit on left and right.”
Ugh, now I’m blushing. This guy is batting a thousand with me. I smile, a more genuine smile, in response.
“Now that’s a beautiful smile. Your other one seemed forced. I’m glad I got to see the real one. I’ll leave you two alone now.”
Before I can say anything, he turns and walks away, leaving me to look at Layla with confusion.
“Hey, you’re the one who said you didn’t want him around,” she teases, bringing her straw up to her mouth.
I turn to see him again; he’s talking to a group of guys but I have a perfect line of sight to him.
He’s definitely different than the guys I’m around all day. No Officer in the Air Force would be caught dead in a surfer-like tank top, yet it totally works on him the way his broad shoulders stick out from underneath.
His dark hair is short on the sides and unruly on the top in a sexy, spiky way, which is a stark contrast to the normal military buzz cut that isn’t required in the military yet most men keep it that way from their boot camp days.
My eyes take in his shoulders and arms that are lined with tattoos but not like a biker would have them. These look like intricate designs of art that wrap around his arms and tell a story.
Suddenly, I’m dying to know what his stories are.
He turns and catches me staring his way, winking at me before returning his attention to his friends.
Jeez! Now I’m totally making a fool of myself with this guy.
I down the rest of my drink, set the glass on the bar, and head back out to the dance floor—back to the real reason why I’m here. And it’s not to meet a man.
While dancing, I try to forget about the way his blue eyes seemed almost clear with dark circles lining them, or the way his jeans hugged him in just the right places as he walked away.
I find myself glancing his direction more times than I want to admit so I purposely turn my body away from him to rid the temptation.
Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around my myself, hugging tightly as the music slows down, flowing like angels through my soul.
Surprise takes me out of my high when warm hands hold onto mine that are wrapped around me and hugging my hips. I know I should push whoever’s touching me away, but there’s something so comforting about it. When combined with the music reverberating in my ears a level of happiness overcomes me.
A warm breath tickles my neck when I hear the words, “I’m sorry, but the music looked like it was putting you in a trance, and I wanted to be where you were.”
I turn to see Alex watching me with a sexy smirk on his face. His arms stay secured on my waist, and I do nothing to move them, which he doesn’t miss, and he pulls me closer.
“Could I get you to change your mind? At least hang out with me tonight? I’m not looking for a hook-up, either. Just let me be where you are in that beautiful head of yours.”
I smile, not responding, and turn back around, staying wrapped in his arms and moving to the music in connection with him.
His hands stray from my hips, traveling up and down my thighs, to my stomach, my arms and back around my waist. He’s careful not to put them on me inappropriately, but makes a point to place them everywhere else.
And I let him.
Feeling his strong body against mine makes me feel like I’m wrapped in the warmest blanket on a stormy night.
There’s something about his touch that brings me to places I’ve never felt. All of my anxiety and fears wash away, giving me security in his comforting embrace. The way his fingers trace the curve of my back. His strong hands caress my sides with a meaningful touch.
It’s soft yet manly.
It’s caring yet demanding.
Most of all, it’s lifting me to a high I don’t want to come out of.
Music is the only thing that could make me feel this way. When you combine the vibrations with the way his hands feel on my skin, I’m brought to a heaven I didn’t even know existed.
The rest of the night is spent in his arms, not having a clue how much time has gone by.
The bar announces last call, and the time warp I’m in disappears. I quickly realize I’ve only had one drink the entire night. I’m not a lush or an alcoholic, but for me to only have one is a little surprising.
Normally, I have a glass in my hand pretty much the entire time, but more as a defense mechanism than anything else. It gives me something to hold onto, or something to do when my insecurities get the best of me.
My head clouds when thoughts of Alex and not needing that defense mechanism once sets in. But fear takes its place. I wasn’t here to meet a guy.
Instinctively, I retreat from his embrace but he holds me closer, whispering in my ear, “You can’t leave until I at least get your number.”
“Sorry, I told you. I don’t want to hook up with anyone.”
“Well, good, me neither. I’m actually going through a divorce, so believe me, the last thing I want is a relationship. I’ve just had a fun night and want to hang out again.”
“You’re what? How old are you? How long were you married?” I’m surprised to hear he’s going through a divorce; he doesn’t look that old.
“That’s not important. We're not going to date, remember? Just hang out sometime.”
I smile, thinking it wouldn’t be too bad to hang out with him again.
Before I change my mind, he hands me his phone. I enter my number then he kisses my forehead, saying, “Thanks, Jenelle. I’ll see you around.”
3
Waking up with a clear head and a nausea free stomach, due to the lack of alcohol, surprises me the next morning. If only my body didn’t feel like it’s taken a beating from the dancing.
I roll over in bed, pulling the covers up around my shoulders, trying to go back asleep. Instantly visions of Alex run through my head.
No. I will not think about a guy.
Hopping out of bed, I put on my workout clothes and grab my running shoes to head out the door, but not before reaching for the most important thing—my iPod.
I secure it to my arm, putting on my favorite running playlist as I go through my pre-stretch warm up. It’s a routine I’ve done religiously since Officer Training School. Since I joined the military as an Officer, I didn’t have to go through the same basic training as everyone else, though some things were exactly the same, like the running.
Most people hated every second, but I embraced it and have tried to continue running even years later. The beginning always hits you harder than I want, but there’s nothing better in life than the moment the endorphins kick in and I begin to soar. I feel invincible, like I can go forever and never want it to stop.
This is my favorite part of any day, and I look forward to it when I’m struggling with anything in life. When it’s just me and the pavement, my music, and my breath. Nothing else. Not my job. Not my rank. And no men.
Just me.
After I feel loose and ready, I head out, hitting the pavement with a slow, steady pace, increasing my speed to hit my seven-minute mile mark.
Tingling takes over my limbs as the high sets in faster than normal thanks to the absence of alcohol last night. When my turn in the road comes, my euphoria is stronger than ever so I continue straight, making the run twice as long.
My head clears and every thought of these last few months with Travis fade away. I need to forget about him and move on.
My phone dings with a text just as I walk in my place. Reaching for the water bottle I left on the counter, I toss my head back, drinking down the entire bottle while grabbing my phone with my other hand.
Water almost flies out of my mouth when I see the message from a number I don’t recognize:
Since we’re not going to date, I guess I don’t
have to play the wait to call game. So how about we hang out tonight? Dancing again?
It has to be Alex but I’m surprised by the 707 area code. Since we met in Sacramento, I figured he was from the 916. I respond:
707? Where do you live?
Doesn’t matter. We’re not going to date remember?
I nod my head, liking his direction with this. No details, just dancing. That I can do.
Fine. Name the place I’ll meet you there.
Meet me at Journey Coffee in Alamo Plaza.
Wait. In Vacaville? How did you know I was in Vacaville?
Does it matter?
Um. Yes. Stalker much?
No stalker. I promise.
Then how did you know? We met in Sacramento.
Your friend told me.
Ok. Then Journey it is. Time?
9. See you then.
I don’t respond since I’m not sure what to feel or say. It’s not a date, but I had fun last night. I’m totally up for another night where I can dance my thoughts away.
At 8:45, I pull up to Alamo Plaza. My training has ingrained in me to be early, even in my personal life. I’m surprised to look up and see Alex standing in front of my car with a smirk displayed prominently on his handsome face.
His hair is a little messier than it was last night and he’s more casually dressed in jeans and a DC t-shirt. I didn’t take him for the skater type but his Nike Janoski shoes tell another story.
His eyes take me in, stopping me in my tracks. Last night they were clear, but tonight they’re dark and emboldening, almost dangerous.
The club was dark last night and now the light shines perfectly on his face so I can see every sharp detail of his jaw. Him not shaving shows with his five o’clock shadow—more like a two-day shadow—making me want to reach up and run my fingers over it.
A small smile creeps up my face before I look down, shaking my head and thanking the sky above I’m not near him so he didn’t see the temptation.
He’s such a stark difference to the stuck-up, pretentious men I’ve dated who only care about rank and what they are rather than who they are.
This is not a date, I tell myself over and over again.
“Well, look at you showing up early,” I offer in greeting as I get out of the car.
“Same to you,” he responds, not making any movement to get closer.
No hug, no kiss on the cheek, nothing. He just stands there, holding his keys in one hand and his other hand tucked in his pocket.
“You ready?” He motions to his black Toyota truck.
“We aren’t getting coffee first?” I ask, pointing to the front door.
“Nope. No coffee for me, we have to get on the road.”
“Okay, where are you taking me?”
“San Francisco.”
“Wow, kind of far for a first date, don’t you think?” I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth.
“It’s not a date, so I don't have to worry about being a first anything. There’s somewhere I want to take you that I know you’ll love. Let’s go.”
He nods his head toward his truck before walking to the driver’s door without looking back to see if I’m following or offering to help me in the passenger side.
It’s odd to be hanging out with a guy who’s not trying to hit on me, or even acting like he’s trying to get in my pants. I kind of like it. For a first non-date, this might be just what I’m looking for.
After I hop in the truck—that Alex already had running before I could even open the door—he grabs his phone, hitting the Pandora icon stating, “Rock okay with you?” then he puts down the phone, not really caring what my answer is.
I think I surprise him when I say, “That’s actually perfect, the harder the better,” while I reach behind me for my seatbelt.
When I turn to buckle the seatbelt, we lock eyes, and he smiles, saying, “Good to know,” as he backs out of the parking space.
The hour ride is mostly quiet, yet nowhere near an awkward silence. The songs he plays are right up my alley. A refreshing change since Travis and I never agreed to the same music and any long car rides were a struggle on who got to listen to their musical preference.
It’s nice not feeling like I have to say anything to fill any empty silence floating around. Really, I don’t care what he has to say. I don’t want to get to know him personally, and it’s nice knowing he thinks the same way.
We pull into the City, and he stops the car in front of a discrete-looking building, turning it off and opening his door saying nothing.
“Um. Are you going to tell me where we are?” I ask, exiting the car but standing behind it as a barrier from anything that might happen.
“Nope,” he states as he walks away.
“Nope? Did you really just say that? Where are we?”
“Just trust me.”
“Sorry, man, but, I don’t know you well enough to trust you yet.”
He turns around, squaring his shoulders, saying with no emotion, “Yes you do or you wouldn’t have gotten in the truck with me.”
No movement is made on his part as we stare in a stand off of wills, neither of us wanting to break first. Instead of backing down, I stand up straighter, tilting my head up slightly, trying to show him who’s boss.
His lips tilt up as he tries to hide his smile before he turns around, walking into the empty looking building without knocking or unlocking the door.
I look around, realizing I’m alone on a side street in San Francisco. Weighing my options, I laugh at how I got myself into this predicament in the first place and close his truck door. Walking up, I slowly open the door, peeking inside before I make my way through.
The room is dark, and an arm reaches out, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me closer. Fear is the last thing I feel when warm air brushes across my neck and I hear, “Glad to see we’re on the same page. Come on.”
His hand reaches down, entangling with my fingers and pulling me through a long hall with small lights barely illuminating the ground as a guiding path through the darkness.
The farther down the hall we get, the sound of bass hits hard around me, thumping through my veins.
When he opens the door, laser lights of red, blue, and green dance around the warehouse walls. Bouncing bodies fill the room with their arms in the air. The music beat drops and screams of excitement overcome all of my senses.
My body instantly wants to move and my mind screams in excitement as I take in something I’ve never seen before. Everything around me is jumbled with smoke, music, lights and people yet I feel right at home.
We’re not at a club but people letting loose, dancing like it’s their last day on this planet, and in one second, I know I’ve found my heaven on Earth.
Alex turns and laughs when he sees the astonishment showing on my face.
“So you’re okay with this?” he asks, pulling me against his hard chest and moving to the music.
“Okay with it? I feel like I’ve found my favorite place in the world. Where are we?”
“It’s an underground rave,” he says nonchalantly.
“Wait, what?” I say, pushing him away and looking back to the door we came from.
I’d run toward it if I thought I could leave but it was a one-way door, and there’s no handle allowing me to open it from this side. I turn back to him. “But these are illegal, right? These are all about drugs? I can’t be here.”
“It’s fine. I’ll protect you. And no drugs, I promise. I can tell you won’t need it to have a good time, anyway.”
“No, you don’t understand. My job. I can’t get caught up with anything like this.”
“I get it. I can get in trouble too but fuck it. We have to live for more than our fucking jobs.”
“I don’t know what you do but mine is more than just a job. My entire life would be over.”
He looks around the room then back at me with a slight squint to his eyes and tilt to his lips. “But wouldn’t it b
e worth it?”
“Excuse me?”
He pulls me into him, moving slightly to the music. “Come on. You know you want to. Don’t you want a little excitement in your life?”
“How do you know my life isn’t exciting?” I ask, trying to seem offended.
“Because I can tell by the spark I saw in your eyes when we entered the room. And I watched how you moved to the music last night, like you didn’t have a care in the world yet every once in a while you’d tense up, looking around like you were making sure no one you knew was watching. You were holding back a tiny part of you—” he holds up his fingers to display his point with a shit-eating grin on his face “—and I want to see that last tiny part. I want to see you be you for the first time in, what I can only imagine being, your entire life.”
I look around the room, thinking about everything he said. He’s right, about all of it. I’ve never let everything go. I always feel like I have to put on this front, this image of what everyone thinks I should be.
“See. I’m right.” He leans his six-foot-two frame down so his gaze is even with mine. “The real you starts right now.”
We find a place on the dance floor and he’s right. The real me climbs free in a matter of moments and my body feels more alive than it ever has. I don’t worry about who’s around me, who could be watching, or really even caring.
For the first time I follow my favorite saying and I dance like no one’s watching.
The DJ spins the most eclectic mix of hard rock, nineties old-school music from my high school days, to songs I’ve never heard, but they’re all set to his unique electronic vibe.
It’s only been a few minutes and I can already tell this will be the best night I’ve ever had, even without a drop of alcohol.
As a song slows down, Alex grabs my hand and turns me toward him. We’re still a foot apart but the electricity bouncing between us feels like it could light this entire room.
We’re locked in another staring contest but this one I never want to end. When it does, I know reality will set in soon, but as of right now, reality can kiss my ass.
I feel him move closer as the bass beat drops, rumbling in my chest. The closer he gets the more my heart pounds until he yanks me toward him and his lips touch mine.
