Hattie found herself consumed with giggles as she attempted to keep up with his lightning footwork. “Are you kidding? I don’t know how to do a mambo.”
“Follow my lead,” he repeated, and he drew her closer as he effortlessly swung his hips and shoulders to the music as they glided across the freshly sanded floor. After a moment, Hattie found herself relaxing, even singing the Jennifer Warnes verses.
“You’re the one thing I can’t get enough of,” Trae declared. He backed away and pulled her to him again. “Okay, now in just a couple more verses, you’re gonna run toward me and launch yourself into the air.”
“No way,” Hattie said, still breathless.
“Way. Come on. You’ve gotta trust me.”
“I saw where Emma Stone said they used a stunt double when she did this dance with Ryan Gosling.”
“We don’t need no stinkin’ stunt double,” he insisted. “C’mon. Just run, leap, and I’ll catch you and lift you up and spin you around. You won’t fall.” He sang the next verse. “I swear, it’s the truth…”
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” Hattie chanted.
“I’m counting you down,” Trae said, still swaying to the music. “Three … two … one…”
“Go!” Hattie launched herself toward him and closed her eyes. His hands grasped her waist and she felt herself miraculously being hoisted into the air and spun around …
And suddenly, crashing toward the floor.
“Aiiyyyyyyy!” Trae’s high-pitched scream drowned out her own and frightened her as much as finding herself flattened on top of him.
She was motionless for a moment, with the wind knocked out of her.
“Owwwww.” She was conscious of Trae, moaning loudly. She slowly rolled to one side.
Trae raised himself up to a half-seated position. “That … didn’t go as planned.”
“Are you okay?”
He gingerly touched first one hip and then the other. He lifted his pelvis and groped his own butt. “My tailbone hurts like a mother.”
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“Maybe? I mean, I’m able to move, so that’s probably a good sign, right?”
“Roll over and pull down your pants,” Hattie said.
It was Trae’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Seriously, girl? If that’s your idea of a proposition, we need to talk.”
“I just want to look at your tailbone, to see if it’s red, or bruised … or whatever.”
He groaned, partially unzipped his fly, and rolled the waistband of his jeans down to his hips before turning onto his belly. “This is not how I envisioned the evening ending.”
“Get over yourself,” Hattie said, rolling his jeans and briefs down lower, until his tailbone was exposed.
She prodded his lower spine with her fingertips. “Does this hurt?”
His skin was smooth and tanned, and from what she could see of his butt it was just as fit and fine as the rest of Trae Bartholomew.
“It all hurts.”
“Don’t be such a man-baby.” She walked her fingers down to his tailbone, which was slightly pink, but otherwise apparently intact. She gently prodded it with her thumbs.
“How about this? Shooting pains? Seeing stars? Ready to black out?”
“Uh, no.”
She giggled and slapped his butt with the flat of her hand. “Good news. I think you’re going to live.”
He groaned again as he rolled over and zipped up his pants. “You’re sure? Nothing’s broken?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but no. I think if anything was broken, you’d be screaming in agony.”
He sat back up again, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “You know, I’ve actually never had a broken bone.”
Hattie stared. “Seriously? Never? Like, not even a sports injury?”
“Nope. Not even a sprain. I’m not really very sporty.”
She considered this for a moment. “Hmm. A straight man who admits to not being athletic. That’s a first for me.”
“Now you’re going to ask me if I’m sure I’m straight, right?”
“Pretty sure that’s not an issue.”
“Okay, good.” He stretched out a hand to her. “Help me up, okay? It’s the least you could do after jumping on top of me.”
Hattie stood, grasped his elbows, and in one swift movement jerked him to his feet.
“Owww.”
She rolled her eyes, but didn’t release her hold on his hand. She was loopy and she knew it, but didn’t care.