Find Me by A. L. Wood Page B

opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t back out. After the Liam fiasco- fuck, the Liam fiascos’- I wanted this. I needed this. A night to let go and free myself. Go numb to the pain, block out all of the issues that are at hand, and now also planning a wedding.
    It’s a break away from the beginning to the madness that will surely ensue , once my parents discover that not only I, but also Natalie will be in town. That we will be home.
    I’m so caught up inside of my head that at first I don’t feel someone grasping my hips and dancing along with me. It takes me by surprise for a moment but when I shake out of the shock I just go along with it. I don’t even look to see who it is. I lean my back in resting against the heavy muscular chest that’s behind me.
    Together , we sway into the beat, we meld, and we float for what feels like hours. One song becomes another, then another, until they all sound the same. It sets my mood for the night. Relaxed. Until I hear the whisper in my ear.
    “He can’t stop staring at you and it’s driving me fucking crazy.”
    Liam.
    I pull myself out of his grasp and fling myself around, almost unbalancing my feet at the same time. I end up falling head first into him. Once I right myself , I give him a glare.
    “What?” he asks surprised.
    “That’s the only reason you were dancing with me?”
    “Well , someone has to watch out for you, Layla.”
    “I’m doing fine by myself . I do not need a self-appointed protector.” I argue.
    “I can see just how fine you’re doing. The guy can’t keep his fucking eyes off of you and I know how he talks to you, it doesn’t feel right.” He says.
    “I don’t need a bodyguard, Liam. If you want to dance with me because you want to dance with me, then fine, but don’t join me out of obligation, or duty. I am not in need of your services.”
    I walk away , sliding my body through the throngs of other drunk patrons finding a spot I can dance by myself in, without Liam. And without Carl’s eerily stalkerish glances.
    When Stay With Me by Sam Smith comes on, the song that calls for a slow dance with a partner, I say fuck it and dance with myself. I’m not walking off this floor to go back to the table, where Liam is only to restart a conversation that I don’t want. I’m taking cues from him, I guess. Sometimes running away is better.
    I hug my arms around myself and close my eyes, letting the song take me. Allowing the words to soothe me, consume me. My body flows like liquid with every syllable, every line , and every verse.
    Suddenly , I’m pulled forward and arms are tightly wrapping around me.
    “I’m sorry,” Liam apologizes.
    “Mhmm.” I reply, partly because my mouth is locked against his chest and the other part is because, what can I say? I don’t want an argument to ensue. Sure, I’m a little peeved. I was hoping he had wanted to dance with me, just because.
    “Really, I am.”
    He lets go of me for a few seconds, tugging my arms out of their spot, then enclosing me again. He takes the lead, swaying our bodies and slowly I glide my hands around him.
    Loosely at first and then somewhere along the line , I find myself clutching him. Wanting him closer, even though his body is already melded against mine. We’re touching each other’s every crevice. And all of a sudden I’m hot. My body is sweating and I am thinking thoughts that I shouldn’t be thinking.
    Thoughts such as, I wonder how he tastes. Does he taste as delicious as he smells? Would he let me run my tongue along every single line the tattoo gun carved into his body? Slowly tasting every single inch of skin he has. Would he make love? Or would he use my body to such extent that I wouldn’t be able to walk for days?
    Questions that at this point , I desperately wanted the answers to.
    A sign that I should really let go of him and get myself another drink, maybe scope out the men in the bar. Someone that is free and only wants a few nights together. Just