“Where have you been, man? We were beginning to think you got lost. Katy’s here and she’s been asking for you,” Ethan informed me.
Great. I should have known she’d be here. If she hadn’t invited herself, then Ethan would have invited her. Good ol’ Ethan, always thinking with the wrong head like any hot-blooded, college aged male.
Right on cue, Katy walked up to Ethan and me, moving to put her arms around my waist in greeting, but I artfully dodged and directed her attention to Ethan.
“Hey Katy, I was hoping you’d be here. You know Ethan, right?” I felt like Barney Stinson playing the ‘have you met Ted’ game from How I Met Your Mother.
“Not exactly,” Katy answered, turning to Ethan, who suddenly had a hell of a grin on his face.
“Ethan was just telling me how great he thought that shirt looks on you tonight,” I lied, and Ethan gave me a look that silently asked, “I did?”
“Aww, thank you, Ethan. You have a nice place,” Katy took the flattery bait and turned her attention to Ethan, as I left the two of them to get better acquainted with one another.
Katy was a nice girl, hot as hell, but she wanted a little more from me than I wanted to give her as far as a serious relationship went. She wanted one and I didn’t. Maybe I’d want one with the right girl, but not with Katy. I figured that she and Ethan ought to hit it off perfectly.
I maneuvered my way through the kitchen into the play room where Jonas was playing pool with Reginald, another guy from the team, and several others were milling around watching or socializing as they drank Ethan’s beer.
Reginald sunk the eight-ball and Jonas handed the pool cue over to another guy waiting to play. When Jonas saw me, he walked over and greeted me with a ritual handshake.
“Porter, it’s about time you show up. Where have you been, brother?” Jonas asked.
“I ran into a girl on the way home from practice and time got away from me. You know how it goes,” I told him as I shrugged with indifference.
“She hot?” Jonas asked.
“Gorgeous,” I admitted. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen this girl around before. You know Clara, right?” I asked Jonas.
“Kincade? Yeah, I know her,” Jonas smiled and nodded appreciatively in recognition.
“She and Clara were at the Book Shelf together Saturday night when we were there,” I told him. “Then I ran into her earlier today when I went back to find a book I had left in the Student Central Building. She had found it.”
“That’s cool. Are you going to see her again?” Jonas asked.
“If I can help it, I am,” I admitted. “I’m curious to see what she’s about.”
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, send her my way,” Jonas joked.
“We’ll see. Looks like I’m going to have to step up my game with this one. I don’t think she likes me yet. I’m going to have to work a little harder on this one,” I admitted as I sat down at a bar stool in the corner next to the wet bar in the game room.
“Say what? Why do you say that?” he asked me in disbelief, taking a seat on the stool two down from mine.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Getting her to talk to me in the first place was tough. I thought maybe she already had a boyfriend, but she said she doesn’t.”
I didn’t want to tell Jonas about the arrangement that Zia had offered me, to help me find the right girl. Jonas and I both knew I had no trouble getting girls, but telling him I wasn’t finding the right girls was a little too far on the female emotional side to talk about with one of the guys. He and I were close, but not that close.
“Wow, she’s taking you down a few notches. Maybe that’s just what you need, bro. You’ve had it too easy for far too long. It’ll do you some good to have to work for it.” Jonas teased. He meant everything he said, but was able to get it across in a way that gave me a hard time in good fun.
I still wasn’t sure about the offer she had made me, but I did know one thing. I had to see her again. That was all I needed to know before I decided to send her a text.
Me: Ok I’m in.
Zia: In where? Who is this?
Me: It’s Dylan. And I’m in. I’ll let you help me.
Me: If you still want to.
Zia: Ohhh. Ok :)
Me: So what now?
Zia: Now we go to bed and talk about it tomorrow.
Me: Ok sounds good. I’ll call you after practice.
Zia: Ok
Me: Goodnight
Zia: Goodnight
At that, I said my goodbyes and headed out to drive back to my apartment for the night.
I didn’t know what it was, but something in me couldn’t wait to talk to Zia the next day. Where would this thing take us, I wondered, and I couldn’t wait to find out.
CHAPTER 3: ZIA
I worked the reception desk at the university counseling center on Tuesdays and Thursdays after class and all day on Fridays. It was partly a work-study program, but also served as a means to get my foot in the door to a graduate program and hopefully an internship in a few years.
It worked well with my schedule, since I had classes Monday through Thursday with Friday off. The center was closed on weekends, which left me free to study, relax, or whatever fun or madness that Clara came up with for us to get into. I was usually fairly, if not grudgingly, agreeable to Clara’s social plans.
Since she had her date Friday with Cason, I decided it was the perfect time to start my sessions with Dylan without her being around as a distraction. I loved that girl; she really knew how to dominate a room. She liked to be the center of attention, which I normally appreciated, but since I had a purpose this time, I figured I’d wait to tell her about it.
Here it was, already Thursday evening, and I was counting down the minutes before my shift ended so I could walk home and get started on planning the details of tomorrow night.
Dylan and I had arranged to meet Friday for our first session, and I needed to think about a good place to kick things off.
I took a university shuttle across the campus since it was already dark. It wasn’t so much a bad part of town as it was growing up with a single mom who ingrained a certain level of paranoia in me. She could be a little overprotective at times, but I wasn’t so naïve as to not err on the side of caution. I didn’t take it to any extremes like she could sometimes.
As the shuttle neared my stop and slowed, I observed out the window at the people waiting to get on. I noticed a group of people, all girls except for one guy right in the center of them. Of course, it was Dylan.
I thought about saying hello, but didn’t want to steal his attention away from the flock he had surrounding him. I even wondered if he would notice me or act like he knew me, and I didn’t want to take the chance of looking like the foolish person talking to myself when no one responded to my greeting, so I decided against it as I exited the shuttle and steered myself in the direction of my apartment.
A few minutes later, as I was walking down the sidewalk lit by the dim streetlights, I suddenly had a feeling that I was being watched or followed.
Great, there was the paranoia I thought I hadn’t inherited.
I picked up my speed a little as a pulled my bag in tight to my side, gripping the straps extra tight. I checked for shadows behind me cast by the street lights, but didn’t see anything suspicious, and tuned my ears to hyper awareness level. I could hear footsteps behind me picking up speed, and just before my fight or flight reactions kicked in, I heard a familiar voice calling my name.
“Zia? Wait up!”
An internal sigh of relief filled me as I stopped and turned, realizing that it was Dylan.
Was I seriously just freaking out? It seemed silly now, and I was a little embarrassed, hoping he didn’t notice the spike of adrenaline that was slowly dissipating now.
“Hey, Dylan. I didn’t see you coming.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I saw you get off the shuttle and thought I’d say hi.”
So he did see
me. I was surprised.
“Oh, I didn’t think you noticed me. You seemed a bit preoccupied, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” I explained.
“It’s cool. So, are we good for tomorrow night? What’s the plan?” He seemed excited about it.
“I thought we could try El Sabor. Do you know any Latin dances?”
Dylan laughed nervously and admitted he hadn’t ever tried, but he was up for the challenge.
“What time do you want to meet me there?” I asked.
“I’ve got practice tomorrow evening, so I’ll need to go home and shower, eat…” he speculated. “Does ten o’clock sound okay?”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you there. Wear comfortable shoes! And watch YouTube videos of salsa dancing if you want to prepare in advance.” I laughed on the last sentence.
* * *
It was Friday night, and I was waiting to get ready until Clara left for her date with Cason. It was all she could talk about for the past week now. I hoped for her sake that he wouldn’t disappoint.
Clara sat in the chair in front of the vanity in her bedroom, applying her lip gloss as I finished curling the last strands of her hair. It was a nice distraction from the night ahead of me, and I wasn’t really sure why I felt a twinge of nervousness.
It wasn’t like I was going on a date.
Clara was so wrapped up in her excitement that she didn’t even suspect I had plans of my own tonight.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? I hate that you’ll be here alone on a Friday night.”
“No, no. Please don’t feel bad for going without me. You’re going on a date! You need some alone time. I will find something to do, I promise.” I reassured her.
“Okay. How do I look? Does this dress fit me okay?” Clara turned to check herself out in the full length mirror standing in the corner. She knew how to dress to entice a man, that was for sure; just the right balance of sexy and classy, showing off her curves but still leaving some things to the imagination. With her five foot eight stature wearing wedge heels, she was all legs tonight. Her blue eyes really popped with the blue dress and the smoky eyeshadow she had gone with tonight.
“You look stunning. Cason doesn’t stand a chance of resisting you.” I gave her an honest smile.
I helped her find her favorite perfume and spritzed it into the air for her to walk through as she continued to chatter about Cason and how hot he was.
They were going for dinner and drinks before hitting up Thunder Lounge, a night club that catered to the college crowd, as did most of the night-life establishments in this college town. He was picking her up at seven o’clock, and at six fifty-five p.m., he was knocking on our door.
I let him in and he greeted me with a charming smile. He definitely had the bad-boy thing going for him. He was tall, mysterious, and hot, a few years older than us.
His clothes made a statement somewhere between not trying too hard and damn, I look smoking hot in these jeans. The solid black button-down shirt was unbuttoned just far enough down to see enough of his smooth, sculpted chest to make a girl want to unbutton it the rest of the way. The dress shoes pulled it all together, and those light-green eyes that stood out among his dark mane smoldered, melting anyone that dared look directly into them.
Clara had taste, I’ll give her that.
I called out to Clara to let her know that her date had arrived, and she came out right away, not making him wait. That in itself spoke to how much she was into this guy, because Clara was the kind of person who would be late to her own funeral. I always had to tell her things started an hour before they really did so that we would be on time.
They left soon after he arrived, as he escorted her down to his SUV; no motorcycle tonight, thankfully. I didn’t think the little blue dress would have fared well on the back of a bike, and neither would all the time I put into curling her hair.
Alone at last, I made myself a sandwich and sat around for a bit to relax and watch a few episodes of How I Met Your Mother on Netflix before I hopped in the shower and began to get ready.
After my shower, I blow dried my hair and styled it with big wavy curls. I ended up with some nice beach waves. I didn’t go to the extent on my make-up that Clara had, since I wasn’t actually going on a date tonight. I needed to keep it casual.
Why did it feel like I was getting ready for a date, though?
I decided on a pair of form-fitting jeans, a dark gray silky tank top with some minimal jewelry, and a pair of red heels. You couldn’t go salsa dancing without heels.
I added a form-fitting black blazer since it was getting cold at night, something easy to take off and leave at the table while I danced. A small red clutch would be perfect to hold the basic necessities – I.D., debit card, keys, and lip gloss.
Normally for salsa dancing, I’d have worn a slinky or flowy dress that would move with the twists and turns of the dance moves. But tonight, I wanted to look low key so that it didn’t look like I was trying too hard to impress a date, since my purpose was to help him find a girl there to talk to and connect with.
By the time nine-thirty p.m. rolled around, I was ready to go. I called for an Uber driver who took no time to pick me up. I gave him the address to El Sabor. When I arrived a few minutes early, I walked inside and ordered a tall rum and coke with a lime at the bar; just enough to calm my nerves a little while I waited.
I watched the people coming in and people already sitting at tables around the perimeter of the dance floor. I saw a lot of couples and groups of mixed company, but there were several groups of girls who didn’t appear to be accompanying dates. It looked like a promising selection.
I wasn’t waiting too long before Dylan arrived. He spotted me at the bar and made his way over to me. He looked great, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged his thighs and butt in just the right way. A teal polo shirt hugged his upper body accentuating his pecs and biceps, showing off a nice tan. His hair was tousled and messy, and the smile he wore touched his light brown eyes, making them seem to sparkle in the dim lights of the room.
These girls didn’t know what was about to hit them.
“Zia,” Dylan greeted me with a genuine smile.
“Hey Dylan,” I returned.
Dylan flagged the bartender, ordered a bottle of beer, and we made our way over to a table in the corner. He looked around at the people on the dance floor in the center of the room and then glanced his way around the perimeter.
Taking a swig of his beer, he then asked, “So how do we do this?”
I wanted to see what he was attracted to first, so I asked him whom he would normally be drawn to on his own.
“Honestly…” With a lift of his chin, he signaled in the direction of a bunch of scantily clad girls standing at the bar.
I gave him a knowing look.
“You notice those girls because they’re trying so hard to be noticed. What about those girls on the dance floor dancing with each other?” I pointed in another direction to some girls in the middle of the floor who were dancing, laughing, excitement written all over their faces.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, they’re cute,” he admitted. “What makes you think they’re any different from the other girls over there?”
“Because these girls are probably here because they love to dance. Because they have an interest in something and they do it for themselves. Not because they want to please someone else. They just show more self-confidence. They don’t have to bare all their goods to come out here and have the time of their life,” I explained.
He nodded his head like he was letting it sink in.
“Why don’t you go ask one of them to dance?” I smiled playfully.
He laughed with his hands up in front of him as if he were physically shoving the idea away from him. “Oh no, I don’t think so.”
“What? Why not? You can’t go to the salsa club and not dance. That’s against the rules.” I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.
“I’ve never salsa danced before. I can’t just go out there making a fool of myself like I know what I’m doing,” he explained.
“Alright, alright. I’m no dance instructor, but I can show you the basics. The extra you’ll have to make up as you go.”
We stood and I slipped out of my blazer before holding my hand out to him. We walked hand in hand onto a clear area of the dance floor close to our table.
“You’re the guy, so unfortunately, I can’t teach you to lead. But hopefully you’ll get the idea and pick it up. Watch everyone around us. The secret is to keep the movements mostly in your hips. If your hips are leading the movement, you can’t go wrong.”
We were standing face to face, and I grabbed his hands. Did he notice the electricity move through us, or was it my imagination? Whatever, focus, I told myself.
“Get a feel for the music and loosen up. Have fun with it. I take my cues from you, and I kind of mirror your moves. First you’ll step forward with your left foot as I step backwards with my right. Then step back to the center where you started.” I stepped backward and pulled him forward so he could step into the move, and we stepped together back to the center.
“Now you’ll step backward with your right foot while I step forward with my left, and then back,” and we did.
“Let’s repeat that a few times until you feel comfortable with it, and remember, move your hips. Make it sexy. Your hands should always either be holding my hands or holding my body.”
They didn’t get the term Latin Lover out of nowhere. These Latin dances were pretty sexy.
He smiled through the mini lesson and followed the directions, sometimes looking around to see what others were doing.
“Now for the turns. When you spin me, keep a light hold on my hand or my hands so that we don’t get all tangled up but we also don’t lose contact.” I spun myself once to demonstrate. “When you spin, I’m always going to keep my hand touching your body in some way, so that you know exactly where to reach for me as I come around you.”
First Impressions Series (1-2) Page 4
