Nicole

I only wanted to sleep, but the nightmares that would take place once my head hit the pillow had me thinking twice.

It would be wise if I avoided my impending torture for as long as I could, not to mention that I was still trying to get to know Travis. He was um... interesting.

But I felt interesting was too shallow a word to describe him. Those blue eyes... they held mysterious truths about him. Very enticing. And I was eager to explore.

But I shouldn't be. In reality, I'm actually wary.

Doesn't stop the curiosity from ebbing and flowing though, Nicole Day.

"Let's go somewhere else," he said when I couldn't come up with anything he could do for my forgiveness. "I don't want to ruin your night. Let me make it up to you."

I pulled back to look at him. "My friends," my voice was slightly shaky. I cleared my throat to sound better. "They'll wonder where I am."

"You're holding your phone for a reason, Rebecca," he chuckled. "You can text them."

I looked at him for a long time, contemplating if this was a good idea. Was I being stupid? Was this acceptable? Normal? Legal?

But when was the last time someone had prioritized my comfort? He was trying to better my bad evening, and I felt touched, even if I didn't show it.

Heaving a sigh, "all right." I finally said, and a grin broke out on his gorgeous face. "All right."

"Okay. So where do you wanna go?"

***

"This is so amazing!" I screamed as the band switched to a different song.

Coloured lights flashed, strong beat pulsed, people screamed and let lose. The atmosphere was exhilarating.

When he asked me where I wanna go, I said I wanted to go to any place where there was fun, and he took my hand, walked me to his sleek, black Lexus, and drove off with me straight to Brooklyn. Once we were there, he maneuvered his way through the city until we arrived in front of a huge building.

I should be scared, terrified even, that a stranger had taken me to another city. But I was not. My body was relaxed around him, my mind at ease, if you counted out the earlier terror that happened at the cinema.

Travis knew the bouncer, said he was a friend, so we were allowed to enter freely.

Inside this building was a live band performance. I didn't know the band, but they were so good I planned to look them up later.

"I know!" He shouted back, jumping and shaking his body, his mind telling him he was dancing. I laughed at him, making sure he didn't notice my doing so, and focused on dancing away my own nightmares.

The beat throbbed in my veins, pumping me to move to its rhythm. I couldn't stand still even if I wanted to. This was what I was made for, I thought as I moved my body to the song. This was my place, I thought as I ran my fingers in my hair, freeing the bun so my hair flowed around me now, and swayed my hips.

Dancing.

I opened my eyes to catch Travis staring at me, mouth hanging open.

"Damn, she's a natural," someone said. I turned. Only then did I realise I'd created a small crowd around me.

Shit.

"She's a dancing goddess," someone else cooed. "Teach me some moves, babe!"

"Wrap those limbs around me and do some moves, sweetie!"

"Those long legs can surely wrap around my waist."

My face burned, and I flinched and ducked out of his reach when someone made a move to grab me. Looking once more at Travis, I saw his mouth wasn't hanging open anymore.

But he looked like he wanted to kill somebody.

"Let's get out of here." He offered me his hand.

"No!" I shook my head. "I mean, we were having fun!"

"Rebecca." The gleam in those eyes were dangerous, and proclaimed he wouldn't entertain any nonsense. He looked hotter even when mad.

And did I say he looked ethereal under the flashing lights?

I crossed my arms in front of me defiantly, shaking my head. He wasn't the boss of me.

"Seriously?" Exasperated, he sighed. "Don't be stubborn. Your face has turned as red as your hair. It's clear that you're uncomfortable. Why don't we just leave."

When I didn't budge, it happened all so quickly.

My world turned upside down, literally, as he grabbed me, tossed me over his shoulder, and headed outside. Curious heads turned our way, making me burn with more embarrassment.

"Travis!" I squeaked, hitting his back. I might as well be hitting a wall. "This is embarrassing! Put me down! Now!"

He ignored me.

Once outside, he set me on my feet and glowered at me.

"Now, I'd like to know what exactly you were you trying to prove by being stubborn." Despite the annoyance in those eyes, his voice was low and even. It made me feel like an unreasonable child.

So, though he had a point, embarrassment drove me to be defensive.  "Was I being stubborn? I was only trying to have some fun." I tossed back, a snappy twang accompanying my voice.

"Yeah, have some fun while perves drool over you." His voice was cool, too cool.

"Travis," my voice trembled with the annoyance that gradually took over my shame, "I didn't ask for it. I was just lost in my own world."

"Oh sure, just whip your hair everywhere and wiggle your hips, and no one will notice."

"Travis."

He disregarded the warning in my voice. His jaw clenched. "It wasn't safe for a moment back there, yet you wouldn't listen to me when I said we should go."

"Well, it isn't exactly my fault that they are perves, is it?"

"No, it's not." He agreed. "Is it our fault there are serial killers or rapists out there? No? But does that stop them from going after their next victim?"

I hated that he made sense. Tears of frustration burned behind my eyes from the implication of his words.

I can't be free to dance without being objectified, without being seen as "asking for it." Simply because the other gender had little to no self-control.

Women can't just live their lives without being constantly policed, without being told they're too much or not enough.

I refused to let the tears fall. I never cried in front of anyone, and those tears on the bus had been an extreme moment of weakness.

"Why can't women just exist and do the things they love without being judged for them?" The frustration seeped out from my voice anyway, despite how hard I'd tried to sound cool.

I'd stepped away from him without noticing, and with a sigh and softened eyes, he closed the distance between us.

Gently, he held my shoulders. I was forced to look up at him, and the patience in his eyes nearly undid me.

"I know it's not fair, but that's just how life is," he went on softly. "There are situations we can't help, but the ones that we can? We take charge and help ourselves. Like back there. Anything could have happened. Dangerous things happen at such spaces, so once you feel there's something wrong, you escape immediately, then worry about the unfairness of it all later."

"All I did was whip my hair and move my body." I whispered, "I didn't ask for it."

"You didn't deserve that kind of attention. I'm really sorry you felt objectified, and even more sorry for snapping at you."

"You didn't. You sounded super calm."

"I was trying to control it. Trust me when I tell you I like being in control, because I have no idea what I'll do once I lose it."

I closed my eyes at the first jolt of sexual awareness that shot through me. It was so unwelcome, so random, and I was so unprepared I nearly staggered.

Why the hell did his casual talk about his control suddenly make me aware of my libido?

"You were a sight to behold though," he took my silence for tension and tried to joke me out of it, automatically tucked a lock of my hair behind my ears like it was what he did everyday. It felt so foreign yet so familiar. "Your moves were very... nice to look at. Not speaking from a pervy angle, though."

I giggled, and the action pleased him.

"Maybe I might hire you to be my personal exotic dancer," he went on, his fingers combing through my hair absent-mindedly. "You know, you get to dance in my room, just for me, away from pervy eyes..."

His touches were light and not in any way intimate, but I was seduced nevertheless. I'm not even sure that was what he intended, but I couldn't help my body's reaction to him.

I only prayed he wouldn't notice.

"Are you jealous?" to distract him from any chance of seeing the goosebumps around my collarbone and trailing downwards, I asked suddenly.

"I'm not jealous." He coughed, taken aback. "Stop flattering yourself."

"You are jealous." Now, wasn't that interesting. I was merely trying to distract him, but the blush that crept up his neck at my question spoke volumes. A smile crept unto my face.

"No, I'm not."

"You are jealous that people found me attractive when I danced. Just admit it."

"You're attractive, dancing or not, silly. " he flicked my forehead, making me wince and uttering an ow. "So in that case, I'd be jealous all the damn time, which is impossible. So no, I wasn't jealous."

He'd said it so freely, like it was a natural thing to say. But I bet he didn't know how much it meant to me to hear him say that.

A shuddering breath escaped from me, and I cleared my throat, determined not to let him know the effect he and his words had on me.

"Mustn't we get going?"

"Oh, she needs her beauty sleep."

I gasped. "Well, yeah! How do you think I manage to look this good for you and the rest of the world?"

"Okay, chipmunk. Let's get going."

Wait, he didn't just call me chip-

As if reading my thoughts, he grinned. "Sorry, I'm not calling you that anymore." His apology was super unremorseful.

"Don't make me throw up on you by calling me that again. Ever."

"A friend of mine used to adore that nickname," he took my hand, and we began walking back to his car. "It slipped out in a moment of weakness."

I pored over his words until we reached his car. He held the passenger door open for me. Who was this friend? It seemed they were dear to him. Was the person dead? That'd be so terrible.

"Do I remind you of him? Or her?" I asked when I sat in the car.

He paused to look at me, still holding the door open. A lazy travel of his eyes from my sneakers up to my face took place. A smile tugged at his lips, a smile so small it was almost... sad.

"A lot," he finally said when I thought he wouldn't reply me. Then he shut the door.

I blinked.

***

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