Page 20 of The Bleeding Hearts Club

Luckily the bartender had moved, because if he hadn’t, I’d hate to have his dry cleaner bill for that white button up he has on. Mina sprays the wine from her mouth, coughing, spluttering.

“What?” She screeches, still coughing, her voice hoarse. “I was in room six. Are you Room 9?”

Keep it cool, Theo. Don’t start laughing. She’ll try to burn the hotel down, and come at your dick with an ax.

“Yes,” I mumble, cringing.

“Well…” She sighs. “Okay, then. I—I wasn’t expecting that.” Mina finishes her drink, giggling slightly. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as a sentimental kind of guy, Theodore.” She grins up at me.

That…went better than expected.

Good. I don’t have to hide a body tonight.

Amused, I asked her, “Why is that, Mina?”

“Well, cause, you’re you.” She deadpans.

“Elegantly put, sweetheart.” I chuckle.

Her nose scrunches up. “Don’t call me that. You know what I mean. you have your whole ‘frat guy’, ‘surfer-dude-bro’ thing going on. You just aren’t what you seem.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I mumble to myself. “You want to get another round and see if we can scrounge up some food?” I nod towards the bar before looking around for a couple of lounge chairs and hopefully a table we can sit at.

“God, yes. I’m starving.” I laugh. We get our drinks and I guide us to a few chairs a little ways off from the dance floor so we can eat without being bumped and jostled. Her skin is warm under the thin material of her dress.

I don’t know if she realized she relaxed under my touch, walking closer than I would have expected, but I’m not going to tell her. Not even going to make any move to raise attention to it. I want her to be comfortable. I need her to want to open up to me, and know it’s me this time, not through a phone, and not in a way she hopes will sway me from my pursuit, like at the beach yesterday morning.

Mina is getting close to accepting it. Accepting she might just like me and willing to take a risk on the romance she only believes exists in her books. I just hope she can accept me as easily.

* * *

“Come on!”

“You can kindly go fuck yourself, Theodore,” she snaps back with an amused grin.

The bass of Metro Station’s “Shake It” blares across the dance floor. I’m sandwiched between two burly guys that are surely werewolves, and they have their shirts unbuttoned, which is only slightly uncomfortable. Not because their chests are rubbing all over me, but because they’re so freaking sweaty. It’s kind of gross.

“Mina,” I whine, “Don’t be a sore loser. Come dance with me.” I pout, jutting my bottom lip out as far I can. Laughing at me usually cracks her. She looks at me skeptically and glances at the two guys beside me dancing with their respective dates, and sometimes switching them off to each other.

“I think I’m gonna pass on that one, dude,” she states, chuckling to herself. “I’m getting a daiquiri! Have fun!” Mina winks as she backs away from the crowd back toward the bar.

“Alright, fine. You’re missing out then!” I yell over the music as “TikTok” by Ke$ha starts playing.

I make my way through the crowd letting the music take me to another plane. I have to figure out how to get Mina to dance with me. With the way she’s going with her drinks she’ll be ready to go to bed, whether she wants to or not, pretty freaking soon. What can I do?

Maybe it’s the crowd she doesn’t like but, I don’t know. Maybe she gets nervous about dancing. It’s understandable especially when it’s like this. Arms flailing, hips grinding, bodies pushed together in the center of the floor. But…maybe a slower beat, and some swaying can get her in my arms.

Bingo!

* * *

“I Want It That Way” by Backstreet Boys is the current vibe taking over the dance floor when I’m able to finally spot her again. She’s standing just on the edge of the crowd alone, smiling brightly, watching me. I push my way to her, screaming the lyrics at the top of my lungs with the others around me. Mina just laughs and shakes her head. I slowly shimmy her way, nudging her with my elbow, swaying on my feet.

“Theo,” she laughs.

I smile back at her through the words as we come up to the end of the song. I grab her hand, coaxing her with me to the floor.

“Theo, no,” she argues but there isn’t any conviction in her voice. The usual fire she displays is all but gone. I just wink at her and tug her hand a little more, as the last line is being sung. She sets her drink down, grumbling to herself.