I swim around for a while, trying to clear my head, and stretching my leg muscles. With all the walking today, I’m bound to be sore tomorrow. After about thirty minutes, I step out of the pool and sink into the hot tub. I rest my head on the ledge and my eyes close on their own.
A while later, an older couple joins me in the steamy water. I smile at them in turn and lean back, taking in the evening sky. Hints of a beautiful sunset are on the horizon. I’ve been soaking for a while now, and my fingertips are all pruned. I smile again at the couple as they exchange a quick kiss, and take my leave. Drying off, I slip back into my shorts. I can’t help flashing back to the moment I shared with Eric. I really wanted him to kiss me, but it’s probably for the best that he didn’t.
Back in my room, I find Kim lounging on her bed, flipping through a magazine.
“Hey, where have you been all day?”
I take a seat on my bed opposite hers. “I went ashore and spent the day in San Juan. It was amazing. What did you do? Did you go ashore?”
“No. I nursed a horrible hangover until about two in the afternoon. By then, it was too late to consider going. I ended up meeting a couple of my friends for Bloody Marys by the pool, and then we went to dinner.”
“Did you have fun last night?”
“We had a blast. You have to come out tonight, Jordan.”
“What’s on the agenda tonight?”
“We’re all going to meet up at Allure around ten. It’s the nightclub here on the ship. Are you in?”
Allure… That’s where Eric works tonight. He said he’d buy me a drink. “Yeah. I’m in.”
Chapter Six
After a shower and a quick bite to eat, I follow Kim to Allure on Deck Eight. We meet up with her friends, five other women who all squeal and bounce up and down when they see each other. Kim introduces me, but by the time we head inside I’ve forgotten all of their names, and I’m sure they’ve forgotten mine.
The group heads toward the bar and my eyes immediately start scanning the staff. The women huddle together as I watch from behind, an outsider. I don’t begrudge them for being excited and happy. I’m not that cynical. But I don’t really have those kinds of friendships. I’ve always been too busy taking care of… I don’t want to think about that right now. The bar is packed and it’ll probably be a while before Kim and her friends are served.
I tap Kim on the shoulder and try not to yell directly into her ear. “I’m going to take a look around. I’ll be back.”
She nods her head in agreement and is back to her friends without another glance. They’re playing Top Forty, and the dance floor is packed. People bump and grind, hands in the air as hips sway provocatively to the beat. I’ve always loved watching people dance. It’s one of the best forms of entertainment; sexy, funny. At work, I’m usually too busy to pay attention. I watch as men and women seduce each other, or try to, and I laugh as the free spirits flail about without a care in the world.
At the opposite end of the entrance there’s a stairway, and I wander up to see what’s happening. It’s another dance floor and bar, smaller than the one below, but still quite a big space. The bar lines the far wall, same as downstairs, but the music here is a mixture of Latin pop and reggaeton. The bar seems a little less busy, so I make my way over and stand behind a guy to wait my turn for a drink. This music is exactly what I want after my adventure in San Juan today. I really wish I had more time there. A few days maybe. I’d love to see what the nightlife is like.
The man in front of me leaves with a shot and two beers in his hands, and I take my place at the bar, still keeping an eye on the dance floor. A clank next to where my hand rests alerts me when a tall glass filled with ice and pink liquid is set down. Looking up, I find Eric with a smile on his face.
My cheeks burn as I smile up at him. “Thanks.” I take a sip of my Sea Breeze, extra grapefruity, exactly the way I like it.
“Here for a little reggaeton?”
“Yes, and that drink you offered.” Am I flirting? “Too bad you’re stuck behind the bar though.” Where did that come from?
He grins back at me and winks, then helps the guy next to me who orders a Black and Coke, glancing at me every few seconds while he pours. He’s so handsome. Tall, great build. Brown hair, brown eyes. When he smiles, his whole face lights up.
I gulp down my drink and leave my glass at the bar. I catch Eric’s gaze and motion that I’m going for a smoke. He nods and helps another customer as I try to find my way to an exit door. The smoking section is on the starboard side of Deck 9. Which side is starboard again?
Once outside, I fill my lungs with fresh air and then proceed to fill my lungs with nicotine. I love smoking. I know it’s bad for me, and I don’t want to be a smoker all my life, but I do enjoy it. We’re on the move again, and the lights of Puerto Rico slowly fade into the distance.
“Mind if I join you?”
His voice startles me and I chuckle. “Not at all. Taking a break?” I hold out my pack and Eric takes one. I light his and take another drag of mine.
“Thanks. Yeah, I’ve been here since five-thirty so it’s about time. I confess, I was waiting to see if you’d show up. I had a great time today.”
“Me too.” I keep my eyes on the ocean as we both lean against the railing. “Thanks for showing me around. I wish we had a little more time in Puerto Rico. I would’ve liked to spend a few days there.”
“You’re welcome. I know, it’s hard trying to get to know a place in only a few hours. Most people are left wanting more.”
I look up at Eric. “I definitely was.”
“Yeah. Me too.” His gaze turns serious and I automatically lick my lips, just in case. Keeping his eyes on mine, he brings his cigarette up to his lips for a drag. In the brief second his lips wrap around the filter, I can’t help but imagine his lips wrapping around my nipple. He raises an eyebrow at me and I realize my lips are slightly parted. We’re only about two feet apart, standing side-by-side against the railing, facing the ocean. He leans toward me and my breath hitches, anticipating the taste of him, but right before our lips touch, a voice calls out from behind us.
“Hey, Eric, sorry to interrupt, but we need you back here.”
I turn to see the guy walk back through the door in the same black T-shirt uniform Eric has on, and I clear my throat.
“Sorry. I have to get back to work. Hang out for a while?”
“Maybe. Buy me another drink?”
“Absolutely.” He stubs his cigarette out in the receptacle, smiles, and jogs inside.
That was a close one. I shouldn’t have, but I wanted him to kiss me. I take my time outside, gazing at the stars while I light up a second cigarette. Out here, away from the city lights, the stars illuminate the sky. It’s like that in the desert too. When you drive out of the city, away from the strip, stars as far as the eye can see. That’s one thing I love about Vegas. That might be the only thing. The only thing left.
After a few more drags, I stub my cigarette out and head back into the club. Instead of heading back to Eric’s bar, I return downstairs to check on Kim and her friends.
They’re dancing in a circle, laughing, taking turns moving in the center, as they all cheer each other on. I scoot in next to Kim and move my hips to the beat.
She notices and bumps my shoulder. “Hey. Where have you been?”
“I was upstairs, having a drink. It’s less crowded up there and they’re playing reggaeton.”
“Sweet. Hey guys, let’s go upstairs for a bit.”
Kim’s friends all trail behind her as she leads the way. Following the group, I make eye contact with Eric as soon as the bar comes into view and head out to the dance floor. This is the first time Kim and I have actually spent any time together on the cruise, except for sleeping.
Of the five women with Kim, I’m probably the most conservative in my dance moves. They’re all going for pole dancer, “drop it like it’s hot” status, whereas I’m conservatively swaying to the b
eat. But it’s all fun, and I laugh, watching as each woman tries to outdo the last. Getting caught up in the music, I let go and close my eyes. Dipping my hips to the sultry rhythm, I imagine dancing with Eric in a small Puerto Rican bar, as the crowd pushes us closer together, sweat dripping, breath mingling, gripping his taut shoulders as his strong arms encircle my waist...
My eyes open and immediately find Eric behind the bar. He watches me intently on the dance floor, lips parted, and my body flushes with arousal. Body language is easy to read. Bartenders are freaking experts at it. Nothing short of screaming “come take me” would be any more obvious to him at this point as I keep my gaze locked on his while rocking my hips side to side. He knows it. I know it. He could crook his finger and I’d be over there in a second, or he could come out here and join me for a grind.
Our gazes remain locked a few more beats, but when a customer approaches him and breaks the connection, I come to my senses, duck out and run back to my room before he has a chance to accept my body’s invitation. I may want him, but I also want what’s best for me. Better to be safe than sorry, I tell myself as I lie in bed, frustrated and alone.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, I wake up and put all my effort into figuring out the daily itinerary. I’m not planning on getting off the ship again until we get to Jamaica. I need to start taking advantage of everything the ship has to offer, so I don’t spend the entire trip by the pool or stalking Eric.
After coffee and a smoke, I devise a plan on how to tackle the huge list. I snag a highlighter at Guest Services, and then start to mark up everything that sounds interesting.
Over the last three days I’ve conquered the Rock Wall, played some mean table tennis, explored the art galleries and library, and enjoyed a massage in the spa. There’s been poolside music to enjoy in the evenings, along with 80s music trivia, and a movie showing under the stars. I’ve been to dinner with Kim two of the last three nights, but last night I opted for a slice of pizza while I played blackjack in the casino. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t lost my touch. I went to bed with $200 extra in my wallet.
I haven’t seen Eric since that night at Allure. With almost eight thousand people on this ship, and no idea where to find him, it’s unlikely I’ll see him again. I haven’t exactly been seeking him out, either. Staying away from the bars is easier. Tonight, however, they’re having a senior swing dance at The Vine Bar, which despite my sales pitch, Kim and her friends are opting out of in favor of Margarita Madness at the Samba Lounge.
I’ve always loved old movies and the big-band music that played when actors like Gene Kelly took the stage. There was a local band that played in Vegas at Hard Rock which almost brought the house down. The dancers were out in full force, and I was fascinated by their clothes and makeup. I’ve been admiring the rockabilly culture from afar, sticking my toe in here and there. The music and the dancing is what draws me the most.
So tonight, I’ll put on my polka dot dress, my red lipstick, create a pretty pinup hairstyle, and hit the scene all by myself. Hopefully, I can find a nice older gentleman to twirl me around the dance floor like it’s 1945.
Chapter Eight
My dress sways as I walk along the deck. I had an early dinner in the dining room and then took my time getting ready. The dance started at seven, which is early. But this is for seniors, so I leave my room at seven-fifteen, because it’s liable to end early as well. A live swing band is playing, and I can’t wait to sit down with a cocktail and enjoy the music.
The sounds of a high hat and trumpet reach me as I pull open the polished wood door. Inside, the lights are low. There’s a long bar to the left, booths to the right, and a dance floor in the middle of the room across from me, where an eight-piece band plays. I immediately start tapping my toe to the rhythm and head for an open stool at the bar.
A Manhattan seems fitting, and I place my order with the bartender. My fingers tap along to the tempo as I wait for my drink. There are lots of older couples dancing, some tucked away in booths. And there are a few younger couples here as well, enjoying the music. I’m so happy I did this. When George and Ella, the couple I played ping-pong with earlier today, mentioned it, I knew I couldn’t miss this event.
My red heels tap on the footrest as I take a sip of my cocktail. Mmm, this is good.
“Hey, kiddo. Glad you made it.” George bumps my shoulder and I turn and greet both him and Ella with a kiss to each cheek.
“Well, are you guys going to show me how it’s done tonight?”
“I’ll try my best. Of the two of us, Ella is the dancer. She makes me look good.”
Ella playfully pushes his shoulder, but blushes at the compliment. They’re a darling couple. I can’t wait to see them out there. We clink our glasses together as we all watch the band across the room play in the dim light of the bar.
I’ve been transported to the 1940s tonight. The band is hopping, and the cocktail waitresses all look like pinup models. I can’t believe Kim and her friends weren’t interested. George asks me to dance, at Ella’s encouragement. With a smile, I join him on the dance floor and quickly find a rhythm as he twirls me around. Giggles escape me as we dance together, Ella clapping from the bar.
As the song ends and we walk back toward the bar, a man approaches me and asks me to dance. He’s probably in his thirties, and he’s attractive, so I agree as he leads me back out onto the dance floor.
“Ready?” He winks and flashes a panty-dropping smile.
I nod in the affirmative, and before I know what’s happening, he sweeps me across the dance floor. I don’t know if this guy is a professional dancer or what, but I have no control over my movements whatsoever. His wrist flicks and I spin to the left, fingers pull and I’m drawn toward him before he guides me back out again with ease. My eyes bug out and a little yelp escapes me as he lifts me off the floor and to the side. Holy hell. I didn’t even know I could do that. A circle has formed around us as the band plays Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” while we tear it up. How is this happening? My head goes back as he dips me, and the stand-up bass player comes into upside-down focus. Eric.
I pop up, shocked. My partner and I sweep the dance floor again, but now my eyes search for Eric as he plucks the bass strings, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. The how or why of his presence is irrelevant. The handsome man that can dance like a professional, whom probably every woman in the room is swooning over, is not who has my attention. We dance together, but every chance I get, my gaze finds Eric. The rhythm he plunks out as he plays is so sexy. He has on a black button-down, sleeves rolled up, first three buttons undone, and perspiration glistens on his chest where the tiniest bit of his ink is visible. He winks as I spin close to him. It breaks the tension between us and I smile, laughing out loud. He smirks and goes back to playing, nodding to the man on the drums.
The song soon ends, my partner dips me, and the crowd around us erupts in applause. He accompanies me to the bar and offers to buy me a drink. I order another Manhattan, but keep Eric in my periphery. He’s watching us, and I pull my shoulders back with confidence as I realize I still have his attention.
My dance partner is busy reveling in the praise of his admirers while I sip my drink. I keep my eyes on Eric as the intense look that claimed his features as he followed my moves on the dance floor is replaced by a playful swagger as he jams with his band mates. I’m not sure if this is for my benefit or not, but he seems larger than life back there. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him when I first arrived.
There’s an invisible string pulled taut between us. Every time he nods at a band member, I glance toward him. Every time I cross my legs he glances at me. It’s a push and pull. I don’t know how I spent a whole day with him without pouncing. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or maybe it’s the bourbon in my glass, but the chemistry between us has ratcheted up to a whole other level. My grip on the edge of the bar is the only thing keeping me in my seat.
When my dance partner
finally turns back toward me, I drag my gaze away from Eric.
“So... My name’s Gary. What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Jordan. You were great out there. Are you a professional dancer?”
“You would think so, but no.” There’s a slime quality to him that comes across as soon as he opens his mouth. I try my best not to roll my eyes while he looks down my dress.
“So where did you learn to dance like that, then?”
He takes an exaggerated sip of his Scotch, like he’s about to tell an epic story. I shouldn’t have asked. “Actually, I was engaged to be married once. And my fiancé, at that time, wanted to swing dance at our wedding. So we took lessons.”
“So you learned to dance for a wedding that never happened?”
“Yes, but now I know how to sweep women everywhere off their feet. Literally.” He drags his fingertip down my arm in what I assume he thinks is a sensual gesture, but it gives me the creeps. “Are you here with anyone?”
“Hey, babe.” Eric picks the perfect moment to intervene. He kisses me on the cheek, snakes his arm around my waist, and causes my stomach to do a massive flip and tingles to shoot down my spine. “Dance with me?”
I drink him in: button-down, black dress pants, silver wallet chain swinging, hair gelled up, eyes sparking. I nod mutely as Eric leads me to the dance floor. The band has taken a break and “Fever” by Peggy Lee starts to play over the speakers. He takes my hand in his, holding it close to his chest as my other hand goes up over his shoulder. He steps lightly to the quick subtle tempo, and keeps his eyes on mine.
The room and everyone around me disappears. Pressed close together, our bodies move as one, back and forth we sway. Our gazes stay locked until Eric spins me slowly into a half turn and then holds me close around the waist from behind.
He murmurs in my ear as his cheek brushes my neck. “You look beautiful tonight, Jordan.”
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