Page 13 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
It doesn’t take any convincing for me to stand up and find her. Following Anika’s request, I make my way through the crowd, searching for Magdalen. Bathing-suit-clad bodies playing tennis, making out, dancing on top of tables. I squint, trying to see through the mist and disco lights, but she’s not at the bar. I veer towards the DJ booth, thinking maybe she went out for a smoke. Does she smoke? I know fuck-all about this girl. I see her in the grass again, that shirt dangerously ridden up her stomach, and correct myself. Woman. Definitely woman.
I’m about to turn around and check the parking lot when I spot her. Her eyes are wide, and she wraps her arms around her body as if protecting herself, creating distance between the man she’s speaking with and her. Something close to annoyance flickers inside me as he bends to whisper something in her ear. Magdalen cringes and rolls her eyes while he laughs obnoxiously into her shoulder. And as she tries to take a step away, he abruptly leans his hand on the wall, blocking her in. The flicker turns into something a little darker. Shoving drunk dancers out of the way, I pace until I’m right behind him. Cool it, Theo. But I look at her eyes, uncomfortable and unsure of herself.
She and I need to have a talk about how to tell someone to fuck off.
Once I’m close enough, Magdalen looks at me, her voice falsely bright. ‘You promised me a dance, Theo.’
The man turns his head towards me, and Magdalen’s eyes close in relief, warmth spreading in her cheeks. When her eyes open, it’s as if she’s put on a mask.
‘I was just on my way to find you. I remembered how much you love this song. We’ll talk soon, okay?’ She winks at him. ‘It was nice seeing you again, Antonio. Have a great rest of your night.’ No wonder the man won’t give up. A bloody wink!
The man, Antonio, looks between us and turns back to Magdalen, bending down to her cheek to give a slow kiss, but she jerks her head, laughing his attempt away, and pats him on the shoulder. When she steps forward, her hand grips my wrist, hard. She stares up at me, her eyes screaming THANK YOU! I nod, giving her a weak smile. Feeling angry that she was so uncomfortable. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there?
But, then again, who the fuck sex-winks at someone they don’t want to be around?
I lead her away from the dark exit and enter the flashing lights of the dance floor. In the middle of the crowd, the music surrounds us, the sticky heat of bodies pulsing happily. Stopping, I turn to come face to face with Magdalen, but her eyes drop to the ground.
‘You don’t really have to dance with me.’ Her hand is still wrapped tightly around my wrist, her fingers slender but firm, tipped with a dark red nail polish. Anger stops me from saying anything. When she parts her lips and stares at me with those green doe eyes, I understand why Antonio gave it a shot. Those eyes are dangerous. Slowly, my hands trace over her fingers; her skin is soft and cold despite the summer heat. Settling my palm over hers, I hold her hand in mine for a moment, enjoying the softness of her against me, and gently, I bring it to rest on my shoulder.
Anika’s words tug at my subconscious. Enough innocence to save us all. ‘Dance with me,’ I shrug. ‘Make the fucker jealous.’ I dip my head to the side, trying to find her eye line, but she refuses to look at me.
Instead she glances in the direction of Antonio, who continues to watch us from the corner. He licks his lips and rubs the non-existent beard he has on his chin as if deciding whether to come over and interrupt. My jaw clenches. Can he not take a fucking hint?
I drop my hands to her waist, her eyes find mine, and we both stare at each other. Despite the darkness, those fucking eyes are glowing, and she chews her bottom lip in deliberation. Unsure. Afraid. Interested. Shades of each emotion so quick you would miss it in a moment. Without meaning to, my gaze slips to her mouth, coloured lights from the disco ball casting strobes of violet and rose across her face, turning the pink of her lips a deep red. Dangerously shiny, her lips are candied in gloss and I can’t help but wonder how sweet her tongue would taste in my mouth. Would she moan if I licked the fullness of her bottom lip? Whimper if I took a bite?
Fuck me. I close my eyes for a moment, hopelessly trying to erase the image. Was Anika right?
I come back to reality and there she is, looking at me with a slight furrow between her brows.
‘Okay.’ She glides her other hand down my chest and I swallow a groan; a strong need in the shape of her palm burns through me. I want those cool fingertips against my chest.
Music floods through the club, practically forcing everyone to dance. Even in dripping bathing suits and bikinis, no one’s fucking missing a chance to hump each other. I laugh to myself, fine with blaming Tirumapifort for enjoying the slightest touch of my best friend’s sister. Magdalen seems to be slipping into comfort with the music’s rhythm, glancing at the girls grinding on their partners around us, eyes closed and succumbing to the bass.
‘This music is terrible,’ she shouts, tilting her head back in laughter. The featherweight of her forearms press into my shoulders, as if she’s given up trying to give me personal space and instead is enjoying the happiness that this twenty metres of dance floor can give you.
When she leans her head forward towards my chest, I murmur, lips brushing against the outline of her ear, ‘I’m a dangerous dancer, even to terrible music.’
She angles herself so that my mouth grazes the tender, damp skin of her neck. ‘I can be dangerous, too.’
Christ. Our bodies find a slow rhythm as we begin to dance. My hands snake around her hips, slightly dipping into the waistband of her skirt for better control of her body on mine. Because Dante is still in the pool, and there’s a significant crowd between us and him, I press her tightly against me.
‘Happy to be home?’ I say, my face buried in her long hair. I breathe in despite myself; she smells delicious. Magdalen doesn’t answer immediately and my grip tightens on her. ‘Is that a no?’
‘It’s an, I’m not sure yet.’
‘Ah, I see. What part aren’t you sure about?’
When she doesn’t answer again, I look at her, squinting. ‘Are you not going to tell me anything?’
‘I don’t know you. It feels weird airing my dirty secrets in a nightclub.’
‘Tennis club.’
‘Irrelevant.’
I spin her around and she yelps, grinning widely, her auburn hair splaying. Pulling her back in, I say, ‘What are you talking about? We grew up next to each other.’
She lets out a sigh, and as her arms come around me again, her fingertips graze the nape of my neck, and I have to fight a shiver.
