chapter 5

One Dance Two Mistakes

My heart is practically in my throat as I wait for Thomas to speak. The eye contact he's making has small beads of sweat rolling down my back, and I'm trying like crazy to keep it together but I'm failing. 

My fight or flight instincts have me mentally searching for all of the exits in this bar, and yet I don't think I could move if I tried. 

Finally, his eyes soften, and his mouth slowly parts as he's about to respond. "Yes, well normally I'd love to throw myself into my work, but since it hasn‘t quite begun yet whiskey will have to do." I feel a smile pulling at my lips and my chest relaxes. 

Maybe I just overreacted. 

"I assume you've got the curriculum all planned for next semester then? I‘m looking forward to it, Professor." The word professor rolls off of my tongue and tastes foreign to me. He's Thomas to me. My Thomas, but he doesn't know that. 

"So you're taking one of my classes again this semester? I‘m very..." Thomas pauses mid-sentence at about the moment his eyes leave mine, traveling downwards. I can see it was involuntary, and he is rendered just as shocked as I am. 

"Pleased to hear that." He finally iinishes and I'm one more provocative gesture away from needing a new pair of panties. 

He's eyeing my body up and down. Suddenly this dress feels even tighter. 

I see something oddly animalistic spring to life in his eyes and shivers erupt throughout my body. He's never looked at me this way before, but in his defense, he's never seen me quite so exposed. 

I try to recover, aiding the conversation along as best as I can. "I would never miss an opportunity to learn from you Professor, you just make everything so much easier to understand than say, Professor Galahad or Marsh." At my words, a big genuine smile appears on Thomas's face. He's so beautiful it hurts. 

"Your words mean a lot to me but please, Sophia. At least until Monday, call me Thomas." He looks up at me once more with glossy eyes, and I can't help but think for a moment that one drink doesn't do that to a person. No, he was drinking before he got here. 

What's gotten into you, Thomas? 

My face involuntarily scrunches up a little as I look on at my dear professor with pained curiosity. "Sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds, but whats got you drinking whiskey alone in a bar on a Friday night... Thomas?" 

Just saying his actual name sounds so intimate, but I try not to let my mind wander too far down that path. 

Thomas seems to take a moment to think over his response, but eventually, he just shrugs, obviously hack peddling what he was originally going to say. "I suppose I've just got no one to drink with." He offers up as an excuse. 

I know he doesn't want to actually tell me, why would he? I'm just a student. Maybe later he will be willing to consider in LiteraryLane21, but I can‘t wait till then to know he's going to be okay. 

I desperately try to think of something to lighten the mood. I have no experience here, but Fiona does. I quickly racked my brain for what Fiona would do, and then it hits me. 

"This is my favorite song." I blurt out, drawing Toms gaze back to me instead of his glass. 

"What was that?" He asks, confused by my outburst. 

"This is my favorite song, and you seem to be free so," I pause to lock my eyes with his "dance with me. Please?" 

The amount of courage that sentence took will probably render me bedridden for the next two days, but it was worth it. I offer my hand out to Thomas and after a brief hesitation, I feel a ravenous heat ignite from my palm and spread to every inch of my body. 

He grabbed my hand and now he's on his feet, towering over me. I can see the struggle on his face. He knows he shouldn't, hell I know know that he shouldn't. This has bad idea written all over it, but that doesn‘t seem to be enough to stop either of us. 

"I suppose one dance couldn't hurt," Thomas says in an attempt to convince himself that it's true. 

I start pulling him away from the bar and towards the open area where many other couples have already taken to contorting each other to the music. On my way to the dance floor, I pass by Fiona who looks like she just saw a ghost. She looks between Thomas and I clasped hands and my face in a quick double take. She mouths oh my god! And I have to bite my lips shut to keep from screeching like a deranged person. 

I know right?! 

I may internally scream, but on the outside, I'm as calm as can be. 

I should get a freaking Oscar for this. 

I weave us around couples that seem to be taking up more room than they really need and stop once I find an open area. I turn and face my dance partner who's already looking down on me with a look of nervous anticipation. 

My right hand slowly rises and comes to rest on his chest, and I can swear I feel both of our breathng hitch at the same time. Thomas places his right hand on my hip and squeezes firmly, his touch a welcome burn against my body. The feeling of his strong fingers encasing my side makes me want to fall to pieces right here. 

I can't believe this is happening. Is this a dream? Did I black out from being drunk, and this is just a lovely but cruel fantasy? Am I actually dancing with a mop right now? 

I'm quickly pulled out of my paranoia by Thomas who has used his grip on my side to pull us so close a sheet of paper couldn't slip in between. His left hand has me by the back of my neck snugly and his head is resting on my shoulder.