Page 116 of Only After We Met

“Rhys, you’re an idiot.”

I rolled my eyes before shutting the door and undressing. When we were done shopping, we walked around for the rest of the afternoon, passing through steep stone streets surrounded by low white houses, until we reached the foot of the fortress. There were markets, craft tents, and tons of places to eat. We wound up having dinner here in the yellow light of the streetlamps over the patio where we sat. With him in front of me, I thought.Everything’s perfect. Even if there was a barrier that seemed to be slowly rising between us. Even if our differences were pushing us apart.

I didn’t bring up the drugs again. Over the next couple of days, I just tried to enjoy his company, actually telling him the first thing that came into my head instead of looking for my laptop to write him an email. The hours flew by like this; we spent the evenings watching the sunset and the mornings enjoying an unrushed breakfast before planning to travel the island or explore some of the more remote beaches.

When Sunday came, I started to get nervous.

I fixed myself up a bit, put on my red dress, and said less than normal on our way to his work. When we got there, Rhys walked toward the back door to avoid the line. Inside, he pulled me close. “Wait. I’ll go up with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I have to spin in the booth. While I do, you can hang out in the VIP with Alec and everyone from the other day. They’re not bad people; it’s just…”

“No, I’m staying here,” I said.

“Here, where?”

“With the people. Dancing. Having fun.”

“Are you sure? Ginger…”

He looked down into the top of my dress for a second, and I saw him take a deep breath. I nodded. He smiled. I didn’t want him to be nervous while he was working, or to think about me and whether I was okay. I would be okay. I definitely would. Tonight I was going to live in the moment like the rest of the people here; screw sitting in a VIP booth. I wanted to get out there and dance, laugh, and not think about anything. Even if I had to do it alone.

“Look for me afterward. I’ll be near the booth.”

I stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and turned around, heading for the bar, trying to make my way through the crowd to order a piña colada. I closed my eyes when I took my first sip. It was delicious.

One song transitioned into the next, and I knew Rhys was now in the booth. I could tell when it was his music; it always started slow, gradual, as if he needed a few seconds to get ready. I looked up at him, like everyone else who was dancing, and I smiled with pride. He was so handsome…so serious… His blond bangs bounced against his forehead while he grimaced, timid. He didn’t look often at the audience. It seemed to embarrass him.

He was elusive, as always. Hermetic. And very much himself.

At some point, I stopped looking at him so much and let the music suck me in—the music, the feeling here, the second drink I ordered, and the very nice girls who tried their best to speak to me in English as we danced and laughed together. At two in the morning, the real party started, and the whole place was filled with soap bubbles. I think it was one of the most fun nights of my life. There. Alone. Surrounded by a bunch of strangers jumping and shouting.

I didn’t even realize Rhys’s session was over until I looked up at the booth and saw another guy standing there with headphones around his neck.

“There you are, Ginger Snap,” I heard whispered in my ear.

I turned, slipped, and held on to Rhys’s shoulders. He was covered from head to toe in foam, and I couldn’t stop laughing. He smiled at me.

“Did you have fun?” he asked.

“Tons. It was amazing. Come on, let’s get a drink.”

We ordered two mojitos at the bar. Rhys was wearing a baseball cap. No one seemed to notice us as we walked around, squeezed together tight, caught up in the atmosphere of lights and colors that brightened his face in the shadows. Then I did it. I stopped thinking, closed my eyes, and just danced. With him. With myself. Not caring if I looked like an idiot or if everyone was watching me. Just…following the music. Just feeling Rhys next to me. So dangerously close. With the ground shaking beneath our feet. His pupils were fixed on my lips, which I licked when I opened my eyes.

“Ginger, fucking hell…” he grunted. His hand was on my waist, moving downward.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You already know.”

I could see him wavering. Tense. Anxious. Then I stepped back, putting distance between us. I wasn’t going to be the one to take the risk. I wasn’t going to force it if it wasn’t supposed to happen. I turned, ready to head back to the bar, and felt his arms around my waist, his chest pressed into my back, his lips on my neck, kissing me softly.

I took a deep breath and trembled. Rhys came back around in front of me, his fingers toying with the edge of my red dress.

“See how we should have made rules?” he said.

“I told you I’d keep my hands to myself.”