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“Aye. Watch it now.” Braden swats her thigh, and we laugh a little harder this time. “But seriously, you seem happy with him. That’s a good thing,” he adds.
I smile, forcing myself to accept the truth of his statement. Even though what we’re doing isn’t real, Jackson has made this trip more enjoyable.
“All right, enough talk. Come, ladies, let’s BAILAR,” Melissa says, grabbing me and coaxing the other women out into the swarm of people to dance.
We take to the floor, letting loose to the dancehall track. From where we stand, I spot my date, watching me from the bar, a look of lust and admiration pasted to his face. I bite down on my lip and enticingly sashay to the reggae rhythm. I absolutely love Caribbean music and the way it complements my movements. I always feel so sexy when it plays, and tonight is no different. It’s actually much more satisfying when someone you crave is your audience.
I keep my concentration as he speaks to a waiter, who then takes a tray over to our friends. Alone again, he returns his attention to me, gazing intently in between gulps of his beverage. With his back against the bar, his sights stay fixed on me, and by that sexy snarl on his mug, I can tell he’s enjoying the show.
Manicured fingers grip my shoulders before Melissa comes into view. “Uh-un. None of that. This is girl time!”
I laugh but I’m a little disappointed that she interrupted my flow. I don’t argue with her and allow her to guide my attention back to the girls. Melissa doesn’t let us free for another three songs, and I would probably still be out there with them if it wasn’t for the sudden need to quench my thirst. I search for Jackson, spotting his silhouette near the corner of one of the bars. From here, it looks like he’s talking to someone, but there’s a pillar blocking my view.
I fish through the sea of sweaty bodies, making my way to him for that drink he promised. I climb the stairs leading towards the bar. From here, he appears to be in deep conversation. The closer I get, the louder it gets. Now just a few feet away, D'Andre comes into view, and Jackson yanks him by the collar.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Jackson spews, his bark almost venomous.
I approach just as he lifts his tightly bound fist, preparing to knock the shit out of D'Andre. But Braden steps in, catching Jackson’s hand and preventing the scene from escalating any further than it already has.
“Whoa, killer!” Braden jokes, while using himself as a fence between the two. “Let’s calm down. All right?”
“Hey.” I pull Jackson’s attention to me, doing the best I can to distract him. “Don’t do that. Let’s just go, okay? This isn’t the time or place.”
He’s reluctant and stands his ground. If looks could kill, D'Andre would be one dead ass. Braden focuses on calming D'Andre down when Aliza joins our group, concern written all over her face. Still Jackson refuses to budge, and I’m forced to have to push him towards the exit.
That should have been the end of tonight’s madness, but D'Andre continues to provoke him, following us out the door with Aliza and Braden in tow. Braden races in front of D'Andre, pleading for him to relax, but he’s persistent and not shy with his thoughts of me. My name leaves his lips followed by, “That bitch.”
The words barely leave his mouth before Jackson rushes past me, reaching over Braden and socking D'Andre square across his jaw. Braden spreads his arms between the two, using all his strength to kept them part. Aliza and Braden manage to contain D'Andre while I thrust Jackson in the opposite direction. I’m thankful this didn’t go down while in the club. I’m not prepared to explain why this fight happened in the first place. Once we are out of hearing range, Jackson lets out a grunt of frustration.
“What was all that back there?” I ask, both concerned and upset.
“I’m just tired of that dude’s behavior. It’s uncalled for, and I don’t like it.”
“So you just went up to him and what…confronted him?”
“No! I was watching you when he approached me on some disrespectful shit.”
“What did he say?” I quiz.
He shakes his head and answers. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not important.” He reaches for my waist.
I back away. “It must have been if it’s got you this riled up.”
“You don’t need to know what he said. Just understand that I didn’t appreciate the things he was insinuating so I dealt with it.”
I let out an aggravated breath. “Okay, so don’t tell me. But you don’t have to defend me.”
“What?”
“Thank you for standing up for me, but please don’t let him get you worked up. D'Andre is a lot of talk and a world-class jerk sometimes. I’ve ignored his comments on this trip and I ask that you do the same. Feeding into his pettiness will only look bad on you and me, and I would rather not have drama associated with my reputation while here. So while I would love nothing more than for you to put him in his place, please don’t. Just let him fight with himself. He’ll get tired of it eventually.”
“How can you be so calm? The way he’s been acting and the snide little comments that he makes. Why aren’t you pissed?”
“Because it’s not worth it, and I don’t care to give him the reaction that he is looking for. Neither should you. Can you do that? For me? Let this go and just stay clear of his antics.”
I stand in front of him with pleading eyes, hoping he’ll oblige. He gazes down at me, licking his lips, and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close.
“I can be convinced,” he teases.
