Frayed (Torn #2)(18)

We dined on a taverna that had tiny chairs and tables on the shore. I’ve traveled to a lot of countries, but I don’t think there is another place on earth like Greece. It truly was a jewel. The beauty, the cuisine, the people and the history of the country, it was all imbedded everywhere you go. You just don’t feel it, you experience it. It seeps into you, like a mating of souls. You knew you’d never be the same after that kind of experience.

After the simple, and yet very commendable dinner, we went to an outdoor club that was packed with tourists, just like us. “Woot woot! European McHotties in the house!” Lindsey danced her way in, checking out men here and there. Her signature tight-hugging dress contoured her fabulous figure. Lindsey was stunning, beauty and brains, kick-ass, stunning.

Taylor, like a true gentleman, guided both of us girls to a table. Once we were all seated, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

“What you do want to drink? We’ll order it for you.” Taylor threw me a question before I left the table.

I waved my hand like the question was irrelevant. “I’ll drink whatever you guys are having. It’s no biggie.” Call me a coward, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him squarely when he talked directly to me. He simply made me feel… odd.

Tonight, he wore white chinos, a white dress shirt with sleeves that were folded and pushed up on his elbows, and light brown Armani loafers. He looked like the model that he was, sexy and oozing some astronomic sex, appeal. It did not help that he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt to reveal his muscular perfection underneath it. Yes, I was now seeing everything he did, and not in the angry way that I had the night before. I took note how he liked to bite his thumb when he found something amusing, but was trying to withhold his laughter, or the way he didn’t really care how his wavy hair goes about. Messy, swept back, partially tamed or hung loosely around his eyes, he still looked gorgeous.

The bathroom excuse was a way for me to regroup my thoughts and tame my betraying body’s reaction to the man. I comforted myself that it was simply a Hero Syndrome. I mean, what else could it be? I sure wasn’t into him the first time I met him.

My heart hadn’t changed much, though. It still bore Harry’s name, like a curse or fate, across it. I gave up trying to nitpick why I felt the way I did when it came to him. It was what it was, I was not going to deny it, or even try to understand it. Matters of the heart were a mercurial subject to sort and ponder through—especially at a club, in Greece of all places. It was one thing the brains and the whizzes did not have an answer to—stupid hearts, stupid love. There were simply no explanations out there that could provide answers precisely why that was. That’s why it’s all feeling and not thinking.

Once I was finished using the bathroom, I came out and weaved through the throng of swaying people, dancing to the beats of Ti?sto’s Traffic, one of my all-time faves. I halted when a hot looking woman pulled me with a small pressure on my arm. “Let’s dance! Dance with me.” Her accented tone was heavy. Spanish, perhaps?

In return, I gave her an approving smile. Sure, I could do this. I could dance for a bit.

She guided me towards a few steps that screamed VIP only. We joined a table that had a barely-aged-teen, looking all smug and pimpin’ it. The young man looked like he was probably about seventeen or so. He surrounded himself with six women, plus me and the accented woman who had grabbed me.

It didn’t take long for us to start dancing to the beat. Before I knew it, we were dancing right in front of the young kid. He was clapping like an idiot, his eyes greedy, checking me out. It was stupid, but this kid made me crack-up. He just looked too confident and too smug for his age. The effect was hilarious.

When the music ended, I said goodbye to the woman who hadn’t given her name, but we both smiled at each other in an understanding that it was great fun to dance with each other for a bit. “Wait! Dance more, for me.” The boy-kid asked, his accent obviously Greek.

“You’re a naughty kid. I already danced and you watched. You got the full viewing.” I spun around and went towards his table that had a variety of alcoholic drinks. I picked up the Rosé bottle and saluted it at him. “See you around.” I gave him another smile before leaving.

Boy-kid bunched up his fingers and kissed them with his lips. “Goodbye, beautiful.” He was obviously drunk already.

I waved him another goodbye, walking with purpose, seeking Lindsey and Taylor. I was surprised when I found the two talking, drinks in hand. Lindsey looked up when she found me walking towards them. “Hey! Where have you been? You look flushed.” Her eyes took in my state. “Where did you get the Rosé?”

I pointed towards the opposite side of the room, and smiled at them. “I took the champagne after I gave that Small Big Pimpin’ Kid a mini-lap dance.”

Taylor’s reaction was a Kodak moment. “Cheers!” I nodded at him before I took a long gulp of the mighty fine bubbles, straight up from the bottle.

“What!? I would’ve loved to have seen that! What a bummer!” Lindsey looked like I just told her that she couldn’t have margaritas any more. I gave her a big, goofy grin.

“Mi scusi, I’m Eliza and this is Mia. We’re from Roma. We were wondering if you were that Armani ad underwear model? Taylor, sí?” Two awed, giddy teenage girls eyed Taylor like he was edible. Lindsey and I both looked at each other, then at Taylor.