“Who’s that?” I leaned in toward Maurice so I could whisper in his ear, gesturing toward the blonde.
“Victoria?” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about her. She’s weird, been watching Stuart all night, until you walked in.” He winked.
Victoria had gone back to picking at her meal, but she was still shooting us glances every now and then, as though she somehow knew we were talking about her. I leaned away from Maurice to talk with the rest of the table.
“Well, I’m going on the dive, and I’m really excited. If you haven’t decayed too much, it would be fun to have a couple friendly faces out there with me,” I said, grinning.
I noticed Keith and his friends about three tables down from us. It was difficult not to notice them—it sounded like they were already drunk and having a blast. His laughter ringing above the rest caused emotions I didn’t want to feel. It was a sound I hadn’t expected to hear ever again, making me wonder at the coincidence of meeting him here. Seeing him always made me wonder what would have happened if things had been different. It didn’t escape my notice that he hadn’t made good on the offer to have dinner with me, but I tried not to think about it.
“You clubbing tonight?” Maurice gestured widely with the mimosa in his hand, excitement brimming in his glassy eyes.
“Maybe.” I hesitated. “It’s kind of been a long day.”
“You have to come! It’s tradition,” he responded with a dejected look in his eyes.
I smiled. “Which one are you going to?”
“The only one worth going to: disco fever baby!” Maurice jumped out of his chair, twirling around to grab Stuart, and together they sauntered out of the dining hall.
After dinner I seriously contemplated going to bed. My day had just been so busy that I was exhausted; although I’d been having so much fun that I wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. I decided that you only live once, so took a quick shower and began getting dolled up. I picked a hot pink, sheer short skirt over black short shorts, a black halter-top and my black ballet shoes. I left my long auburn hair to fall down my back, added some make-up to enhance my dark brown eyes, and was good to go. Thankfully I didn’t need ID or money; the bartenders were able to charge your room. I didn’t need to ruin my look with a purse.
I went down to the disco and saw that Stuart and Maurice had already started dancing. I sat at the bar, ordered a couple of drinks, and enjoyed the show. I’d started on my third when they spotted me. Maurice flagged me down, miming the act of fishing, so I chugged the rest of my drink and went out to ruin their dancing art. I had to admit that where I lacked in dancing, they excelled. Before I knew it, I was completely sweat-soaked and drunk.
Stuart and Maurice were taking a break to make-out in the darkened corner, leaving me to dance alone. It was a good thing I was trashed or I’d have been humiliated. I’d forgotten how much fun it was to just let go. I didn’t even jump when I felt hands start to wrap around my waist. Keith pulled me close and I could smell his aftershave. We moved to the music for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms and I knew that we were going to do things we shouldn’t.
His lips met mine in the kiss of a man that was starved for affection, and my brain shut off. We were two desperate people craving one another’s touch like it was the key to survival. He was the only person who could quench this burning desire I suddenly felt. Without giving my addled brain time to argue about the stupidity of what I was about to do, I grabbed his hand and dragged him quite willingly out of the club and into my bedroom where we picked up where we’d left off. His hands groped and roamed up and down my back. He squeezed my body tight against his quivering member and I moaned into his mouth.
“Tasha, I have to tell you it has been a while.”
“Shut up.” I slammed him against the wall as my fingers tangled in his thick brown hair. His hand cupped my breasts and I moaned again. His clever fingers teased and searched, and I whimpered. That was all the encouragement that he needed. We pulled apart long enough to throw our clothes off and barely made it to the bed three feet away. Our coupling was hard and fast, a release that we were both craving. When it was over, we collapsed, wrapped up in each other’s arms and breathing heavily.
I KNEW it was a mistake the minute I woke up. He was in the shower singing some god-awful tune, and I was trying to figure out how to escape. Sure, my hormones did a happy little jig for Keith, but I was definitely not even remotely interested in starting anything with him again. We had a history, and I was well aware of the fact that he didn’t deal with rejection well. He came out of the bathroom in a towel looking yummy, and I had to tell my hormones that we were not starting something with him again. He grinned and they ignored me.
“Hey, babe. Good morning. How are you feeling?” He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. He kept up on his workouts, I know because I watched as the water slid down each crevice of his sculpted abs. Stupid, stupid hormones.
“Um, Keith,
