Looking to Lose (completed)

*21*

The taste of sugary lime lingers in my mouth, sending me in search of my fourth mojito. A slight breeze drifts over the waves and up the beach, tugging playfully at the hem of the rose-hued silk mini dress I'm wearing – one of the numerous gifts from Mila that was awaiting my arrival.

I stumble a few times on my way to the makeshift bar Elian's friends set up, but I'm not sure if it's because I've had too much to drink or because the sand is so uneven and difficult to walk in. Let's go with the second suggestion, I think as I reach the bar.

"Let me guess, another mojito," says the young guy behind the bar, smirking at me in a way that makes my heart hammer and my boy sense ring off the charts.

"You remember," I reply in a flirty tone, placing my cup down.

"A pretty American girl at a local's party? You're hard to forget." Oh, he's bold. I like that. Unlike Aaron, who speaks in code and acts like nothing affects him; for all I know, nothing does.

I smile and divert my eyes as a blush rises on my cheeks. I'm not used to being hit on so blatantly.

"Are you sure you need another drink?" mystery man asks.

"Well what else would I do here besides drink?" I ask, my eyes roaming around the beach, pack with people I've never met and will likely never see again. I'm an outsider. Even Mila and Elian have disappeared off somewhere, leaving me even more alone. I'm not resentful though – seeing them even just for a few short hours together today has solidified my approval of my best friend's boyfriend.

"You could dance," the bartender suggests.

"Alone? No thanks," I scoff, taking a large gulp of the mojito he just placed on the bar for me.

"Who said anything about dancing alone?" he asks playfully and before I know it, he's come out from behind the bar and is pulling me towards the center of the dancing mass of people.

Reggaeton music pulses from the speakers spread in a loose semi-circle around the dancing crowd. The girls are dressed sexily, some just in bikinis, their dark skin reflecting the colorful lights. The boys actually dance, unlike at American frat parties, and I gawk at their impressive dance moves. I quickly realize that my dancing partner is the most talented of the bunch, grinding his hips against me one moment and twirling me in a salsa the next. Maybe it's the mojitos or the music or the salty air or the spinning but this suddenly feels like a dream. I tilt my head back and let out an airy laugh.

As my mystery man spins my back into him, I am intercepted by two thin, girlish arms.

"Oh no you don't Raph," Mila scolds. "This one is off limits!"

My mystery man – Raph – raises both eyebrows at us.

"But I thought you and Elian were together?" he asks, then a smirk grows on his lips. "Oh, a threesome... can we make it a foursome?" He winks at me.

"You're so gross!" Mila slaps his arm. "This," she says squeezing my arm, "is my best friend. We go to university together. And she is not going to be another one of your conquests," she finishes threateningly.

"I'm Isabel," I say, extending a hand to him, though it seems overly formal seeing as though we just spent the last four songs glued to each other.

"Raphael." He takes my hand and kisses it. I blush at the gesture. "Though my friends call me Raph... but a pretty girl like you can call me tonight."

Mila groans and rolls her eyes, before taking both our hands and pulling us back towards the bar, where Elian has taken over Raph's job as bartender.