Page 46 of Like You Want It

Dina and Susie are laughing but following along and keeping up. Carly, though. God. She’s a fucking gorgeous mess. Turning when she should step, stepping when she should shuffle.

She catches my eyes then, and her whole facial expression lights up and she starts waving me over.

“Fin!” she shouts, waving like a loon and pointing to the spot next to her. “Finocchio!!”

And then it happens.

I actually laugh.

A laugh that tightens my stomach muscles and has me bending over slightly, a boom coming from my chest that I haven’t heard or felt or enjoyed in quite some time. As the laugh tapers off, my smile fades slightly. But I’m sure I still have remnants of it splashed all over my skin.

It blows my mind that I can barely know this woman, this totally crazy stranger, but the shit life has shoveled at me that I thought was going to eat me alive seems to ebb away when she’s around.

I keep watching them. Well, I keep watching Carly as she continues to dance and then look back at me. Dance some more, then look to me again. It takes an effort to resist my body’s desire to go to where she is now, swaying her hips and hoping I’ll join them.

I’m not an idiot. I can tell she’s into me. Even if I am as confusing to her as she is to me, I still catch the looks she gives me when she thinks I’m not watching.

Which is stupid on her part.

Because I’m always watching her.

I can’t really help it.

If she’s near, my eyes find her.

Looking at her is like looking at the sun. It’s blinding. It blocks out everything else around me, then leaves that leftover haze once she’s gone.

Sunshine.

That’s what Dina called her.

And it fits.

But it’s also something I’m not sure I want to deal with.

I don’t have time to give my attention to anything new. To fracture my focus. I have Nell and Susie to worry about. I’m trying to keep up with changing from military to fully self-employed. A new life I’m trying to make work.

Staying away from this little firecracker is, really, for her own good.

Her eyes, though. Fuck. She’s still dancing around like a damn fool, her eyes flicking back to me. They’re like warm honey, gorgeous and sweet and dripping with desire.

I watch her body move, her hips twisting to and fro, back and forth, as she shakes her ass barely covered by a pair of cut-off jeans.

Her hair, normally a mess of waves, is pulled back into a tight braid and puffed up at the top to resemble a Mohawk. Loose pieces around the base of her neck fly around, some sticking to her sweat slicked skin and side of her face. She brushes some out of her mouth and laughs.

That laugh.

Every man has a moment when they’ve decided to pursue a woman for whatever reason. To sleep with her, to get a blow job, to date her, take her to the altar… it doesn’t matter. There is a clear moment when he decides that whatever risks come along with that pursuit, they’re worth it.

Her laugh alone could sway a man in her direction. Her smile is like a beacon, radiating out from her soul and sparking in others a desire for happiness and joy.

I could see this moment being a moment like that. A catalyst.

But on the flip side, there’s also an active decision on many occasions tonotpursue someone. An understanding that the complications accompanying that choice would be far greater than the incentives.

And that decision – for me – is now.

Carly’s beautiful, without question. She’s also kind, compassionate, fun, positive, and I’m sure a dozen other words that would prop her up as an intriguing woman to many. Maybe even to me.