When We Dance

That is a hard, cold fact. And when it comes to them? This is not about having me in bed with them. Although it is. I can’t wait to see how things will go when we repeat that experience.

This is not us in New York. This is not the Halloween party. Or Kai’s apartment. Or Alejandro’s hotel room.

This is us after interacting separately. Things have shifted.

I’m still very much walking in a state of drowsiness from having sex with Alejandro, yet more thoughts dipped in clarity form in my head.

This is about having me entirely. I don’t know if they had anticipated it to be that way. Maybe not. Maybe it just happened.

Maybe they’re as surprised as I am.

Maybe they don’t think about it.

And maybe… Kai is in for a big surprise.

Why am I thinking about him? Because he is the man behind the design. He had one hundred percent control. Other than putting down their money, Alejandro and Francisco had no say.

They didn’t come up with the rules. They only said yes to them after carefully evaluating them, I suppose.

So… This is what it is.

And it makes me shudder.

I’m suddenly cold, not only from the thoughts bouncing around in my head.

My body temperature dips to the baseline. Rubbing my arms and shoulders, I jerk out of my paralysis.

My gaze goes to the windows. The sky begins to brighten at the horizon, but the new day is yet to arrive.

I move to the middle of the room, and grab another danish and some fruit. Eat. Drink water. And head out.

The woman at the concierge desk greets me as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to leave the hotel so early in the morning, after spending a few hours with a man inside a room.

Propped against the car, the driver lifts his gaze from his phone. Flashing a smile, he slides his cell phone into his pocket.

“Good morning,” he says.

He sounds rested, unlike me.

“Good morning.”

“Where would you like to go?” he asks, holding the door for me.

I thought I could only go back to the hotel.

“Uh…”

I’m thinking, my eyes trailing down before staring blankly at the sidewalk.

“Are you hungry?” he asks when I move my eyes to him.

“Hungry… No.”

Smiling, he waits for me to make up my mind.

What can I say to him? That I need a spot to gather my thoughts? Some place where I could clear my head? A portal to a different space where I could let the storm inside calm down and morph into tranquil waters?

A sanctuary where I could do some emotional cleansing? Sort through my feelings? Invigorate myself? Chat with myself?