Page 30 of Blossoming Dahlia

Really, I just wanted a new phone, which I finally managed to get at the mall, Amanda negotiating on my behalf. The first thing she did when I got it was to add her number to my newphone, and already I felt a newfound independence. Amanda needed to get a country-themed outfit for the party tomorrow since nothing she owned was apparently plaid enough to qualify. I was still waffling on whether or not to go. I’d done so much this week already, I sort of just wanted to cozy up in my new place and watch movies for a bit.

“Comeon, Dee. You need to get out and let loose a little bit. You’ve been cooped up for months in a tiny room, there’s no need to do that for another night,” Amanda admonished, walking out of the change room in a tassel-covered tank top and short shorts. I grimaced at the outfit, while she shimmied around to see how the tassels moved.

“I don’t want to get hit on by wannabe cowboys,” I mumbled, which was a pretty lame excuse, even to my ears.

“Then text Doc and invite him too, I bet he’s dying to see you.” Amanda smirked. I rolled my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat up. It had been almost a whole week since I’d last seen him, and we never really discussed reaching out afterward. It felt awkward now, and it would probably be best to just leave it alone.

“I don’t even have his number,” I told her, and she twirled a couple of the tassels around in her fingers, grinning evilly. “...what did you do?” I asked, then quickly grabbed my new phone out of my purse. She cackled and ducked back into the change room before I could chase after her, and I checked through my messages, finding a text to a contact labeled ‘Dr. Blue Eyes’.

Hey, it’s Dahlia, are you free tomorrow night? A few of us are going to Outlaws for drinks XO

“You devious little bitch,” I gasped, my face flushing with heat. He hadn’t responded yet, and maybe he wouldn’t, maybe he would just ignore it and we could both forget this ever happened.

“See, this is why you need a new outfit,” she announced, coming out in a sequin crop top and a black leather skirt. I just glared at her.

“What iscountryabout that?” I demanded, feeling a little petty.

“Duh, leather,” she replied, pointing at the skirt, and I rolled my eyes. Amanda walked back into the change room just as my phone pinged, and she jerked around to look. “Who’s it from?” she asked coyly.

“Your mom, she says the sequins make you look like a slutty disco ball,” I shot back, and she flipped me off before slamming the door behind her. I waited until she was busy changing and checked the text, which was from Asher.

Yeehaw, I’ll try to stop by!

I smiled in spite of myself. It wasn’t a definite yes, but it wasn’t a no either, and that was something. I got up and looked around, grabbing a pair of shorts and a plaid shirt, giving them a quick once over. Amanda ducked her head out, her eyes bright and gloating. “Want to try those on?” she asked, and I grimaced at her, but gave in, flagging down the attendant to get another change room open.

“This was a bad idea,” I muttered, fiddling with the collar of my shirt. I’d left the buttons open but tied a cute little handkerchief around my neck to hide the burns which were still trying to heal.

“You look adorable.” Amanda replied, sipping her wine. She was currently stretched over my sofa, looking like a model for a country magazine. Meanwhile I looked like I was vying for runner up in a Miss Rodeo Pageant.

Why had I agreed to this again?At the moment, I couldn’t remember. My palms were starting to sweat as I smoothed down my shirt for the hundredth time, trying not to dwell on the panic building in my chest.I’m alive, I need to live like it.That was what the therapist told me, at least. It turned out, if you got kidnapped and tortured, escaped, and then got kidnapped again and, shortly after, killed your abductor, you moved to the top of every therapist’s list. I’d had daily calls with Dr. Richards, who immediately started me out with some coping exercises and techniques to ward off the flashes of panic I experienced throughout the day. One of the things she’d insisted upon was that I got myself back out into the world. The more I closed myself off, the harder it would be to find my way back. So I’d let Amanda convince me to go tonight, despite the whirling feeling of dread in my gut.

We were pre-gaming at my place tonight because the bar was only two blocks away, so we wouldn’t have to pay for a cab there.I gave up on my shirt with a huff and drank the rest of my glass in one shot, earning a raised eyebrow from Amanda. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” I sighed, and she laughed and finished her wine as well, going to grab her heels.

Jillian was already there when we arrived, standing around a table with a few people I didn’t recognize, but Amanda seemed to. The bar was surprisingly loud and full of people already—I hadn’t expected that there would be so many country fans in the city. Amanda left me at the table only after I assured her that I would be fine, returning shortly with a couple of shots. I accepted mine gratefully and downed it, hoping whatever it was would help ease the nerves building in my stomach.

After another round of shots, we all hit the dance floor, grooving to some country songs that had been remixed into club music. I tried to keep myself from looking at the door every few minutes, waiting to see if Asher would stop in. Honestly, he was probably trying to let me down easy—I was sure there were rules about agents fraternizing with people involved in the cases they worked on.

The dance floor seemed to fill up quickly, and I stuck close to Amanda, moving my hips as the bass grew loud enough to rattle through my ribcage. After a few songs, I begged off for a drink, weaving through the crowd until I reached the bar area. I waited for the bartender to come over and ordered a gin and tonic, leaning against the bar to take the pressure off my feet, already regretting my choice of footwear. The guy beside me shifted, and I could feel his eyes on me as I waited for my drink, making a point of ignoring him as he turned fully toward me.

“You look familiar, have I seen you here before?” he asked, and I gritted my teeth, begging the bartender to hurry up.

Breathe in, breathe out.He was just a guy, nothing to worry about. “Nope,” I replied shortly, barely glancing at him. Thisdidn’t seem to deter him in the slightest, and he leaned forward into my space, until I was forced to look at him.

“I’m sure of it, I never forget a pretty face,” he insisted, and the bartender thankfully handed me my drink just in time. I turned to hurry off and find Amanda, but stopped short, staring up at the man in front of me.

“I hope I’m not late.” Asher smiled, looking adorably out of place in his button down shirt and jeans. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, blocking out the guy who’d been hitting on me, and drew me away to a nearby table.

“You always seem to be saving me.” I smiled, leaning into his warmth. I just couldn’t believe that he’d actually come, and now, seeing him, the butterflies in my stomach only intensified.

He leaned against the table, watching me as I sipped on my drink, his eyes sparkling as he looked me over. “I like your hair,” he told me, leaning in so I could hear him. His hand reached up, toying with the short ends, and I felt myself blushing under his gaze.

“How are your legs?” I asked, setting my glass down on the table. He looked down and shrugged, smiling ruefully.

“They’re as good as can be expected,” he told me honestly, and I laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the dance floor. Somehow, it was even more packed than before, and Asher pressed against me to avoid bumping into someone else, his hands drifting to my hips to steady himself. I smiled and started to dance with the beat as I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Clearly, Asher wasn’t a dancer, and I grinned as he moved his hips awkwardly, trying to match mine. He was trying though, and that was what mattered. It felt good just to have him close, and, as the song changed, I started to grind against him, smiling when his grip tightened on my hips. Asher’s body fit againstmine perfectly, and it felt as natural as breathing when he leaned down and his lips found mine.

I inhaled sharply, and his tongue slipped between my parted lips, deepening the kiss and igniting a fire in my core. He groaned into my mouth as I continued to writhe against him, my back arching as I pressed my chest against his. I pulled back a bit, catching my breath, and stood up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Take me home?”

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