When the Heart Falls

She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "I'm trying to mix things up."

He pours us both our juices and hands Cade a soda, but doesn’t take his eyes off Jenifer. "I've seen you on the dance floor."

"And?"

"I like what I see."

She pulls some cash out of her purse and leaves it on the bar. "Thanks."

He leans in, smiling. "You know, I was thinking, I get off at eleven. How about we get together then?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'm taking a break from things that want to do me."

"Come on. I've seen you with a bunch of guys." The bartender has bedroom eyes and is probably considered sexy by most females. I doubt he’s used to rejection.

"Seen. As in past tense. As in shut the fuck up and let me enjoy my drink."

He scowls at her and walks away to help another customer.

I pat her on the back. "I'm so proud of you. You're all grown up and responsible and shit. But I hope you're not doing this for me, because of our pinky swear. I officially negate the pinky swear. You are free to do or be done by whomever you choose, as long as you're safe."

She grins and sips her juice. "I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for me. I need to take time to figure out who I am when I'm not with a man. And who I want to be. How else will I ever know who I want to be with?" She takes a seat at the bar and pushes me away. "Now, go dance, girl."

"You won't get lonely?"

She holds up her glass. "I have my orange juice."

Cade offers me his hand. "Shall we?"

I’m reluctant to leave her alone, but she can take care of herself, so I join Cade on the dance floor. As we make our way to the center I get a chill down my spine like someone's following me, just like a while back when I was walking to Vincent's. I look around but don’t recognize anyone, so I shrug it off.

Cade looks down at me, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

I wrap my arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his body against mine. "I'm with you, aren’t I? How can I not be?”

He kisses the top of my head and spreads his hands across my back. "Perfect."

A slow song starts, and we sway to the music, lost in each other’s eyes. "Remember that first time we danced here?” I think back to that fateful night. “I barely do. But I remember you told me about that song your parents used to sing and dance to every week. I hope that's us in a few years. I hope we'll be singing and dancing to that song."

"And will we have little Winters running around?" The question is in jest, but there’s a burning seriousness in his eyes that makes me giddy.

"And Cades. And Peters. And Stevies."

At the mention of his brothers, his eyes gloss over. "I love you so much."

I bite my lip and lean into him. "Prove it."

He cups my face in his hands and presses his mouth to mine, spreading my lips with his tongue as our breath joins together. The kiss is so intimate, so passionate. It’s the taking in of his essence, as he takes in mine. The exchange of breath, of life. I forget where we are for a moment and want to give myself to him, but the song ends and is followed by loud hip hop that spoils the mood.

The orange juice has worked its way through my body, and I holler over the music. “I need to use the restroom!”

“Okay! I’ll check on Jenifer.”

I love that he thinks about my best friend, that he cares about other people so much.

I don’t remember the bathroom at all from our last night here, but I don't expect it to be so run down. There's graffiti on the walls. Torn up posters of old rock bands. The light flickers off and on. All the stalls are empty, so I pick the least disgusting one and do my business. At least I’m not peeing in a hole in the ground, and there’s actually toilet paper, so it’s an improvement.

While I’m washing my hands, with my back to the door, the music from the club explodes into the bathroom. Someone’s coming in.

My spine tingles, but I ignore it and dry my hands.

"You miss me, babe?"

I whip around at the sound of the voice from my nightmares and face Rodney, who locks the door behind him. He’s got a bandage under one eye and over his nose. Cade did a number on him, and I’m glad. The fucker deserved it.

He walks toward me, his legs unsteady, eyes dilated from alcohol and who knows what else. His words are slurred. "Nothing? Not even an 'I'm glad to see you're okay?'” He pauses as if expecting me to answer.

My mind is spinning, nerves on edge as I weigh my options.

He leans in. “Alright. How about a kiss?"

My words are firm this time, no quivering victim. "No. You're drunk."

He sneers. "You think I don't fucking know that? It's the only thing that keeps the pain away." He’s inches from me. I can smell the alcohol and his putrid breath.

I keep my breathing level, looking for a way to diffuse the situation. "I'm sorry you're in pain."

"Sorry? Really?" He slams a hand against the mirror behind me. "You fucking told him."

I’m shaking, scared, but no longer paralyzed by him. "People need to know what you are."