dresses sparkle.
Under normal circumstances, the swaying motion of the ship when combined with the loud thumping of the music and the flashing lights would instigate a near-instantaneous migraine, but my body is too hyped up over seeing Andrew to have any sort of negative reaction––even to the intense sensory overload of the discotheque.
The good news about all of the lights and noise is that filming in here would be nearly impossible. I'm not quite ready to share my lifelong crush with the world, especially knowing the producers will find some way to make it look seedy.
Andrew holds up his pointer finger at me and goes to make a request of the deejay. After much gesturing and yelling, the disc jockey nods, seeming to understand the message Andrew is trying to relay in the loud club––or perhaps the deejay is simply trying to get him to go away.
Returning, Andrew leads me onto the dance floor where we jump and raise our arms in the air for the next couple of booming fast-tracks. Neither of us are terrific dancers, but we fit right in with most of the others––who seem to have thrown their inhibitions overboard into the international waters.
After the third song ends, the deejay makes an announcement, "Time to slow it down, by special request."
'In Your Eyes' begins playing. A few disappointed twenty-somethings head to the bar for refreshment, but the vast majority of our comrades on the dance floor pair off to slow dance. Several people who had been milling around the bar or sitting at tables waiting for this moment crowd into the dancing area.
There are so many people that Andrew and I are jostled several times. Not allowing the moment to be ruined, Andrew pulls me closer to him and I lean my head on his shoulder. Immediately, I am transported in my mind back to our glorious Prom night when we previously danced together to this song.
Tonight feels the same, only better. Andrew's shoulders are broader, and he's more filled out. It is just as marvelous being engulfed in his embrace as I remembered. Some small portion of my brain feared that I built it up so much in my memory that reality would never be able to live up to my expectations. It is an immense relief to find that he is just as magnetic, charming, and sexy as I remember.
On Prom night, we had each been with other dates, but now we are adults, with nothing to stand in our way should we decide to take things farther. Well, nothing except my makeshift husband. I won't let that sham of a marriage stop me from following my destiny, though. That has to be what this is, right? What else besides destiny would bring the man of my dreams onto the very cruise ship where I am filming a show called 'Cruising for Love?' Just because the producers intended for me to fall for someone else doesn't mean that I can't have found the real thing on my own.
Andrew rubs his palm up and down on my lower back, leaving a tingling trail in the wake of his touch. I feel safe, happy, and fully alive in his arms, and I don't want the song to ever end.
All too soon, the song does end and the deejay puts on a pulsing, loud fast song that makes everyone jump in time to the beat. Andrew releases his hold on me, and I reluctantly let my arms drop from around his neck. There are too many people to distance our bodies from each other, which is just fine by me.
When Andrew feigns fanning himself with one hand to indicate that it is rather warm and points a thumb at the exit door, I nod and accept his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead me out of the club. "Phew," he says when we emerge. "That's the most dancing I've done since..." he seems to be thinking back, "probably Senior Prom," he decides.
I nod. It's been a while since I've been out dancing too, but not quite that long. When he suggests we take a walk outside on the upper decks, I quickly agree. Enjoying the feeling of his hand at the small of my back, I lead the way to the stairs.
Once we have climbed our way to the top
Under normal circumstances, the swaying motion of the ship when combined with the loud thumping of the music and the flashing lights would instigate a near-instantaneous migraine, but my body is too hyped up over seeing Andrew to have any sort of negative reaction––even to the intense sensory overload of the discotheque.
The good news about all of the lights and noise is that filming in here would be nearly impossible. I'm not quite ready to share my lifelong crush with the world, especially knowing the producers will find some way to make it look seedy.
Andrew holds up his pointer finger at me and goes to make a request of the deejay. After much gesturing and yelling, the disc jockey nods, seeming to understand the message Andrew is trying to relay in the loud club––or perhaps the deejay is simply trying to get him to go away.
Returning, Andrew leads me onto the dance floor where we jump and raise our arms in the air for the next couple of booming fast-tracks. Neither of us are terrific dancers, but we fit right in with most of the others––who seem to have thrown their inhibitions overboard into the international waters.
After the third song ends, the deejay makes an announcement, "Time to slow it down, by special request."
'In Your Eyes' begins playing. A few disappointed twenty-somethings head to the bar for refreshment, but the vast majority of our comrades on the dance floor pair off to slow dance. Several people who had been milling around the bar or sitting at tables waiting for this moment crowd into the dancing area.
There are so many people that Andrew and I are jostled several times. Not allowing the moment to be ruined, Andrew pulls me closer to him and I lean my head on his shoulder. Immediately, I am transported in my mind back to our glorious Prom night when we previously danced together to this song.
Tonight feels the same, only better. Andrew's shoulders are broader, and he's more filled out. It is just as marvelous being engulfed in his embrace as I remembered. Some small portion of my brain feared that I built it up so much in my memory that reality would never be able to live up to my expectations. It is an immense relief to find that he is just as magnetic, charming, and sexy as I remember.
On Prom night, we had each been with other dates, but now we are adults, with nothing to stand in our way should we decide to take things farther. Well, nothing except my makeshift husband. I won't let that sham of a marriage stop me from following my destiny, though. That has to be what this is, right? What else besides destiny would bring the man of my dreams onto the very cruise ship where I am filming a show called 'Cruising for Love?' Just because the producers intended for me to fall for someone else doesn't mean that I can't have found the real thing on my own.
Andrew rubs his palm up and down on my lower back, leaving a tingling trail in the wake of his touch. I feel safe, happy, and fully alive in his arms, and I don't want the song to ever end.
All too soon, the song does end and the deejay puts on a pulsing, loud fast song that makes everyone jump in time to the beat. Andrew releases his hold on me, and I reluctantly let my arms drop from around his neck. There are too many people to distance our bodies from each other, which is just fine by me.
When Andrew feigns fanning himself with one hand to indicate that it is rather warm and points a thumb at the exit door, I nod and accept his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead me out of the club. "Phew," he says when we emerge. "That's the most dancing I've done since..." he seems to be thinking back, "probably Senior Prom," he decides.
I nod. It's been a while since I've been out dancing too, but not quite that long. When he suggests we take a walk outside on the upper decks, I quickly agree. Enjoying the feeling of his hand at the small of my back, I lead the way to the stairs.
Once we have climbed our way to the top
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