Page 107 of Get Me to the Starting Line
Perfect temperate water shocks my system, but Julien doesn’t keep me down long. Thank god, because I barely got half a breath in before we went under. He pushes me up to the surface and I inhale, gasping for breath, still stunned.
He’s up beside me half a second later, shaking his curls out, splashing me with water.
“You’re a goner,” I laugh, splashing him back, launching myself at him.
He catches me easily, wrapping his arms around me, bringing me in close.
“Yes, I am.”
Strobelightsflashandbounce to the thrumming beat of the music in the dark club. Indistinguishable songs blare out, and not for the first time, I wish I’d brought earplugs—like the responsible adult I’m supposed to be.
We reserved a booth at the back of the club overlooking the dance floor so we could have a private spot for our stuff, somewhere to rest when we needed. Most of us are not drinking tonight since we have the race in the morning.
I’ve been sipping my lime ginger ale all night, nerves about the morning clawing at my stomach. Maybe I could use a shot. The erratic music and lights are doing nothing to soothe my restless thoughts. The energy and anxiety buzzing through my body have no outlet.
Paige and Adam dance together as most of us watch from above. They’ve been in the middle of the floor for the last hour, wrapped in each other as though they’re the only ones in the room.
I wonder what it would feel like to be so consumed by another person that you literally cannot feel the deep bass vibrating through the floor.
It’s electric and exciting here. Even though I’m fried from the sun and so anxious about tomorrow I want to throw up, I let the music wash over me.
My head starts bobbing to the beat and Isabel takes that as an invitation to grab my hand, yanking me out of my seat so fast my drink almost spills.
There’s no point in trying to object. She pulls at me and mouths, “Let’s go!,” not bothering to try to yell. The music is way too loud to hear her yelling anyway. If there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s a sister pleading for me to do something, and Isabel is my sister. I can’t deny her anything.
I put my drink down and purposefully avoid the men of our party who linger at the bar, waiting to take all our refills back to the table. I feel a set of eyes on me as Isabel leads me to the dance floor.
She’s an expert at weaving through the crowd, people parting for her when they take in her long blond hair and slinky silver dress showcasing tanned, toned skin.
I’d brought a dress for the club, something with a little more coverage, but Isabel wouldn’t hear of it. She made me try on a million of her things—that woman couldn’t pack lightly if her life depended on it.
Even though we aren’t the same size, some of her pieces fit my midsized body. What’s an oversized dress on her hugs my hips and breasts almost perfectly.
I thought I felt good in my bathing suit this morning, but here, wearing this silky navy-blue dress that should really be a slip under another, sturdier piece of clothing, I’ve never felt sexier. I can’t even wear a bra in it. It’s kind of liberating.
The dress hits me mid-thigh with a slit climbing up the front, a tiny triangle of upper leg on display. With the high halter neckline, the amount of leg I’m showing is balanced. But in the back, two thin straps crisscross over my shoulder blades, the open cut dipping down to the base of my spine.
It’s fucking risqué as hell, and I feel it. Daring and bold. I let myself feel sexy as the rhythm of the music eases its way into my blood. We make it to the centre where Adam and Paige are still dancing.
Paige’s eyes light up when she sees me. She leaves Adam high and dry to come over and hug me before throwing her hands in the air in time with the music, beckoning me to join her. So I do.
I free all my inhibitions, putting my hands up and swaying to the beat, moving my body in a way I haven’t since undergrad and maybe once or twice in grad school. I don’t know how long we stay out there—me, Paige, and Isabel.
Adam leaves to get us drinks and we continue dancing. I haven’t felt so free, so at ease in so long, and it feels damn good.
I sense him before I feel the heat of a body coming close. Too close. Not close enough.
Tingles run down my spine and, though I’m hot and a little sweaty from the moving bodies all around us, I shiver. His masculine scent washes over me, dominating my senses.
At first, I don’t feel him, but I know he’s there.
And then he’s everywhere, pressed up behind me, my body flush with his as he mimics the sway of my movements. Two hot hands slide down my sides, landing on my hips, pulling me impossibly close.
His breath is on my neck, and I swear he drags his nose up the side, the scratch of his beard a delicious sensation. My body floods with heat and desire pools low in my core.
Holy shit. I had no idea he could move like this. His hips roll with mine, hands splayed on my body, guiding my movements. I should’ve guessed he could dance. He’s flexible as hell, has so much control over his body.
Control over mine.
