“This is legit!” I shouted at Nat over the thumping bass of music.
She nodded, swinging her hips back and forth to the beat while we both waited at the side of the bar. Our drinks came served in coconut glasses with pretty little umbrellas sticking out of the top, and just for good measure Nat ordered them as doubles with a round of tequila shots to chase. The alcohol blanketed my body in a warm buzz the second it hit my stomach.
There was just something about being blissfully drunk. That first shed layer of inhibition when all that I cared about was the company and the music. I loved the way my eyes got soft and my smile got lazy, my words flowing more seamlessly. I was more myself when I wasn't perpetually stressed.
Nat leaned over and spoke close to my ear. “Don’t make it obvious, but there’s a guy right behind you checking out your ass.”
My eyes darted to the mirror behind the bar to try to catch a glimpse of him without turning around. Strobe lights flashed off the reflection and kept me from seeing more than a cluster of bodies in red and green. “Is he hot or is he creepy? Do we need to move?”
“No, no, he’s cute. I think. He’s wearing a hat.”
I scratched the side of my neck and slowly rotated so my torso was flush to the curved bar top. “Is he still looking?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
“Oh yeah.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I cleared my throat, then tilted my head to the side flirtatiously as I turned toward the stranger and caught his eye for the first time.
“Love the outfit,” he greeted me, tipping his lowball rocks glass toward my coconut in cheers.
Okay, he was cute.
Long blond hair fanned out from beneath a Santa hat. He had on dark red jeans that were tucked into all black high-tops, and was totally shirtless minus two suspenders lying across his lean chest. Pointed jawline, hazel eyes. His lips were a bit thin, but his teeth were straight and white when he smiled at me as I clinked the faux coconut against his glass.
“You look way heavier in photos,” I joked, shouting at him over the music. His blank expression searched me for the explanation I didn’t think I’d have to give. “Because you’re dressed like Santa.” I pointed to his hat. “Like sexy, shirtless Santa.”
It took another second before his shoulders relaxed and his head tipped back as he laughed. “Ah! I get it. Funny.”
“Yeah, it’s probably hard to hear me over the Christmas EDM. Imagine Santa listened to this while delivering presents? Just head-banging through the Northern Lights.”
The dead-eyed, empty gaze returned like he was trying to decide if I was joking or not. As if a grown woman wearing a lingerie corset in public, on purpose, may actually still believe in Santa Claus. Behind me, Nat kicked the side of my calf.
“I don’t believe in Santa,” I said to revive the moment but quickly realized I was nursing a one-sided conversation with a cadaver.
He squinted. “Not even sexy Santa?”
Oh, thank fuck, a pulse.
I shrugged playfully. “I could possibly be swayed.”
Nat physically relaxed at my back, probably relieved she wouldn’t have to fake her period and whisk me away from my social autopsy.
“I’m Lucas,” he shouted to me.
“We probably should have started with this,” I shouted back. “Ophelia.”
“What fruity mix of juice am I ordering for you, Ophelia?”
“I’d actually like to enjoy what I’m drinking, thank you very much. I know you don’t walk around with a tumbler of Tullamore Dew because it tastes good.”
“Tullamore Dew? That’s insulting. This is Macallan.”
“Every whiskey is just a different flavor of finger paint.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward, amused. “I think I need to refine your palate.”
With a satisfied grin I gestured to the bartender for another drink. Nat was still stuck to my side, swaying back and forth. I swung my arm around my girlfriend’s shoulder and pulled her toward me.
“I fucking love you, and Florida, and palm trees.” I stared up at the flickering neon lights behind the bar. “Why do I live in Colorado where it’s perpetually raining and my neighbor steals my Times right out of the mailbox every Sunday?”
“Who the actual fuck still gets a print copy of the newspaper? Christ, maybe you do belong in Fort Lauderdale.”
I hummed, leaning on Nat’s shoulder while the hazy rhythm of booze and bass vibrated my body to a steady level of intoxication.
Who cared about Frankie from Hook（Up）？ This was going to be the most incredible three weeks with my best friend. Sipping and sunning on the beach, cooking our own Christmas ham with the little cherries and toothpick-stabbed pineapples. We would listen to Michael Bublé, and make thumbprint cookies, light a different holiday-scented Yankee Candle in every room of Natalia’s apartment.
Coconut Creek could be a new Christmas tradition for me. Something that was entirely mine, untouched by familial expectation or faint reminders of the cheery childhood holiday that I lost somewhere along the way.
Nat shuffled my jelly-limbed body with hers as a familiar song started mixing into the previous. “Where’s your drink?”
“Lucas is buying me drinks, right, Lucas?”
The blond to my right chuckled and handed over a refilled hollow coconut of alcohol. “Does sexy Santa get to disrobe Mrs. Claus later?”
“Let’s see if you can keep up first.”
I took a clumsy sip of my drink and spun around with Lucas’s hands on my hips as Nat squealed excitedly beside me. She was staring at her phone screen, blue hues dancing across her glittery eyeshadow, and jumping up and down like she’d just won the lottery. “Ah! Come on, come on!”
“Where are we going!” I shouted as she pulled me by the elbow to the complete opposite side of the bar. “Natalia!”
“He’s here!”
“Who?” We pressed through the crowd of partiers with Lucas trailing slowly behind.
Nat looked down at her phone again and then pushed up onto her tiptoes to case the rows of people standing against the bar. “Just…someone I want you to meet.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me and then grinned as she finally found who she was looking for leaning against the counter.
She tapped on his shoulder twice before the handsome, sun-kissed man turned around to face the both of us with a disarming smile. His dark eyes roamed Nat’s velvet-covered body hungrily, then he grabbed her face with two big hands and crushed their lips together.
What the fuck?
She melted as his tongue swiped against hers, seemingly in their own little world while I stood there stunned. Natalia had to clear her throat and shoot a glance in my direction before he even noticed they had company.
Biting her lip, Nat gestured to the mystery man she’d just Frenched as I looked back and forth between the two of them. “Phee, this is my boyfriend. Mateo Duran.”
“Hi,” I managed, pushing a hand out towards him. Mateo took it and placed a friendly kiss on my knuckles in lieu of the handshake as he slid his arm around Nat’s waist.
I felt like I’d entered a different dimension. Nowhere in the last year had Natalia even mentioned a boyfriend. Sure, we both lived busy lives—I was often working or grading, planning new lessons for the classroom. But even then, I’d made time to fill my best friend in on the woes of my serial dating over several months.