Page 85 of Between Now & Heartbreak

Well,she’sgrinning. Carter looks like he’s in pain. I know how much he hates taking pictures of himself.

I need a little liquid courage before I make myself known.

I slip into crowd and make my way to the bar. I order a whiskey soda and settle in to wait for it.

I’m staring at the mirrored wall behind the bar and do a double take because for a split second, I don’t recognize myself.

With my hair dark again and not a hint of pink anywhere on my person, I look like the woman I thought I’d be when I was a girl. When he slides my drink over to me, I raise it to my reflection. I feel like celebrating.

A year ago, I was so alone.

And now, I’ve got Carter and my friendship with Dina, and Cameron. And my brother talking to me through a weird psychic. I’m about to grab my life by the reins and figure things out for myself.

Settling for what is in front of me because I’m hungry, may fill my belly, but it won’t leave me satisfied. I know that something better is out there for me than this. And for Cameron, too.

With my drink in hand I saunter onto the dance floor to celebrate my future.

26

LIKE FLYING

CARTER

“I’m going to the bathroom,”I down the rest of my Arnold Palmer and slide out of the booth. Nadia’s friend has done nothing but take selfies all night and I’m about three minutes away from making up an excuse to leave.

I want to go and find Beth and talk.

What if Dina is wrong?

What if she’s right?

I’m halfway to the bar when a dark head, swaying in the middle of the dance floor catches my eye.

She’s transformed, but more like herself than she’s been since I’ve been here. That blond wig is gone. It’s clearly well made, but it doesn’t sit on her head like a crown the way her natural hair does. It’s dark with loose waves that just barely skim her jaw and fall over her right eye. Normally, she’s covered up in long sleeve blouses, skirts that never show her knees or pants that hide all her curves.

Tonight, she’s on display. Her tiny black top shows more skin than it covers. Her sweet ass is hugged by her tight dark jeans and her sky high black sandals make her legs look a mile long.

She’s lost in the music. So much like the night I met her. The port wine stain on her face is visible and I realize with a jolt that this is the first time I’ve seen it since I’ve been back. At home she keeps her wig and make up on all the time.

She’s beautiful either way. But, like this…she’s the beauty who cast her paradise blue lure and reeled me in hook, line and sinker more than a year ago.

My quest for the bar, my dinner companion, everything is completely forgotten as I watch her.

The opening strains of Adele’s One and Only start to play, and I decide that’s my cue and head toward her.

Five paces away, I stop in my tracks when a man’s hand slides around from behind her and comes to rest on her stomach. His fingers skim the skin that’s exposed by the short hem of the napkin she’s wearing as a shirt and my hands curl into fists at my side.

My eyes move from that trespassing touch back to her face.

She’s watching me, her eyes are clear and twinkling.

Her smile widens and she unwraps his arms from her body and slides them up and back so that her hands wrap around the back of his neck. Her eyes taunt me before she turns around to face him.

Oh. I have been entirely too passive when it comes to her. She thinks because I dangled on her hook, she’s safe.

She turns her head. The expression on her face as she searches the crowd for me is… confused.

Whatever she expects to see, me lounging on the bar, watching, isn’t it.

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