Surprise

The music thumps through my chest as I move, my hips finding the rhythm again. I'm hot, slick with sweat, the swimsuit clinging to me like a second skin. I hear the guys hoot and holler, their voices getting looser with every drink. I'm mid-spin when I feel a hand on my shoulder, and a cold bottle presses against my lips.

I don't think. I just tilt my head back and drink. The liquor burns going down, smooth and warm, spreading through my chest like liquid fire. I take a long pull, letting it settle, and then I turn my head to see who's holding the bottle.

It's not you.

It's one of your friends. The one with the dark hair and the easy grin. He's standing close, too close, his eyes half-lidded and drunk, watching me with a look that's all appetite. And I don't pull away. I don't push him back. I just look at him, then over at you, and I feel the alcohol settle warm and heavy in my stomach, loosening something inside me.

"Thanks," I say, my voice a little rough from the burn. I let my tongue dart across my bottom lip, catching the last drop. "That hit the spot."

I don't move away from him. I let the space between us stay small, the heat of his body bleeding into mine. The music keeps going, and the pole is still there, waiting. But for a second, I just stand there, caught between the two of you, and I don't feel like choosing.