Eversea A Love Story

back.
    “Hey, no touchy,” said Vern taking a step back, all business. “Now, I have the perfect table for y’all upstairs. If you’ll follow me.”
    I looked around and took in the lavish refurbishment of the historic mansion. Dark wood floors gleamed and ceilings towered above us at about fourteen feet. The molding was brushed with metallic silver and on the walls hung large eye-catching pieces of exotic art.
    We followed Vern through the restaurant set with linen tablecloths and gleaming silver. Drawn by a deep thrumming beat to a staircase carpeted in leopard print, we ascended into an exotic harem. Lush and opulent jewel-toned silk curtains framed windows and small intimate areas. The music was hypnotic and sensual as was every surface ones eyes could rest upon. The music, a cover of Alabama Shakes, was coming from a quartet set up in the corner, barely visible through some closely pressed and undulating couples.
    A long mahogany bar lined one end backed by antique mirror panels reflecting the glittering and beautifully dressed people littering the space.
    Vern led us to a corner room set into a turret with deep burgundy silk curtains swagged across the entrance. The room itself was lined with low, plush, curved benches, pillows and seats, a small low cocktail table with a Moroccan looking lantern holding a candle in the middle. The entire place was a feast for the senses.
    Joey and Colt, who had driven separately in Colt’s BMW, had headed straight for the bar. They soon joined us with a bottle of Champagne in an ice bucket and seven shots of something vile, and we all got comfortable. After toasting to friendship, the future, world peace, and anything else we could think of, we were feeling suitably liquidated and Jazz dragged me out to the dance floor. I didn’t want to get more buzzed than this as I knew the melancholy would set in and my internal protections to keep Jack out of my mind would melt down.
    Heads turned to watch Jazz and me as we made our way across the room and it wasn’t long before we had accepted offers to dance and declined offers for drinks from several earnest looking business types. A few songs later, Jazz caught my eye with a twinkle, and I dropped my head back in a carefree laugh, capturing for a moment, how fun this actually was.
    I was just turning nonchalantly out of the lecherous grasp of our latest admirer when Colt caught me around the middle and pulled me in close. For a moment, my belly fluttered in remembrance of how it felt to be dancing with him at his senior prom. I looked up into his handsome square face. He leaned down to my ear, swaying to the music. The house band had taken a break and Muse, with their deep rhythmic and grinding guitar, had come over the system.
    “Hey, beautiful,” he murmured. “You doing okay?”
    His large hand, splayed on my lower back, was a bit too intimate but not unwelcome. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the yearning void inside me but perhaps I could just try and forget Jack with Colton. Jazz always said it was the best way to get over someone.
    I nodded against his cheek and let myself sway with him. Why couldn’t I have picked a nice normal boy to date? What had I been so afraid of? Staying in Butler Cove with a nice, safe boyfriend who worked somewhere like a bank sounded absolutely ideal. There was no fizzing in my veins and warmth pooling inside me at his touch, but that was a good thing.
    The music worked itself into a sensual frenzy, and Colton’s hands roamed my back, bringing me closer. I looked briefly over to see Jazz and Joey dancing together, although not quite as close as Colt and I.
    Jazz winked at me and I gave her a small smile back as Colt’s hand came up and sifted my hair, tilting my face up to his. Jazz towed Joey off the dance floor at Colt’s move. There was no way he’d stand around and watch his best friend kiss his sister, and I guessed Jazz knew that.
    It didn’t seem like that thought had even occurred to Colt as he lowered his lips to mine. I took in his sandy brown hair and his kind blue eyes. And then I closed mine so I didn’t have to finish the thought ... It’s not Jack.
    His lips were warm and firm and not unpleasant. They moved over mine gently. It was a curious feeling to be so detached from the sensation, to really be able to analyze it.
    I felt his tongue coaxing me to open to him as he tilted my head further. I pulled away gently, not wanting it to seem like a rejection,