Hold My Breath

Maddy slides her arm through Amber’s, smiling at the young ball of nerves wearing gold glitter, blonde curls and a shirt that falls down one shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. You look great,” Maddy says, looking over her shoulder at me as she walks back out to the parking lot. Her expression is sad, and I know she wanted me to see it. She’s wishing she wasn’t going to a place with so many memories, and she’s mad at herself for being drawn there. She could have taken this girl out to any of a dozen different bars, but instead she chose this one—the one place that’s significant. I draw in a full breath and feel the burn of it in my chest. Whatever that face she made meant, it’s exactly what I feel, too. I think probably there just aren’t words for it.

I start heading to my car when Maddy stops in the middle of the lot.

“My friend Holly’s coming. I see her lights at the end of the street. We can take her car,” she says.

I put my keys away just as a lifted Jeep Wrangler barrels into the lot, sliding to a stop in the rocks a few feet away from us. I raise my brow and look at Maddy.

“I’ll be sure she knows you’re our designated driver,” she says, smiling on one side of her mouth.

“Or maybe, I just drive no matter what, because…” I stop, pointing to the dust still settling behind her giant tires.

Maddy chuckles, opening the passenger door for Amber to climb inside. I wasn’t kidding about driving. I have a feeling my control issues are not going to remain in check if I’m going to be in the back seat while this Holly chick drives. I round the Jeep and hold up a hand at the driver. She has short, red hair and freckles along her nose and cheeks; she begins laughing lightly to herself while she rolls down her window.

“No thanks, I don’t need valet,” the chick says before I even get a word out. She’s mouthy, and kinda funny. The old me would really get along with her, but the new me doesn’t like being called a car parker.

I purse my lips and step closer to the window, holding on to both sides.

“I’m Will,” I start.

“I figured,” she shrugs, nodding over her shoulder for me to get in the back.

“Uh, yeah…” I chuckle then hold out my palm. “I’m your designated driver tonight.”

She puckers her lips and narrows her gaze on me then looks down to my hand and back up again.

“I ain’t drunk yet, Will,” she says.

“You sure about that?” I ask, my brow raised. I’m teasing, but not really because fuckin’ wheelies, man!

Holly holds my stare for a second, then breaks into laughter, slapping my palm.

“Get your ass in the back, Will,” she says. “Dude, Maddy. You didn’t tell me Will was so funny!”

I exhale and yank the back door open, meeting Maddy’s eyes on the other side as I climb in. I thought hanging out in a bar around endless alcohol was going to be the tough part about tonight, but it turns out the drive there is what’s going to do me in.

“You were right about him being cute, though,” Holly says, peeling out of the lot before my belt is secure. The moment my buckle snaps into place I look across the seat; Maddy is staring out her window, her hand squeezing her neck on my side, hiding her face. Right now, Holly could drive me off a fucking cliff and I wouldn’t notice.

We get to the Mill in one piece, and I take my eyes away from Maddy for the first time in several minutes. My heart switches gears the instant I do—the rapid beating from hope and flattery turning into a free fall inside my cavernous, empty chest as my eyes take in the tall, white towers of the club.

The silos used to be a working flour mill, but when we were all in high school, an investor bought the property that had sat vacant for years and turned the warehouse into a country bar night club. They play a little bit of everything, but the big draw is the bands that slide through town and stop here without warning. Knox is off the beaten path, but this club is packed every Friday and Saturday night with kids from colleges hours away and high schoolers pretending they’re old enough to get in. They come for two reasons—super stars take the stage and are close enough to touch, and parents tell their kids to stay away because the Mills is about nothing but sex.

That last reason is what always got me here. Acres of land surround the dance floor that bleeds outside, lights strung above. The groves are thick, and the pathways wind around for more than two miles. The mood is romantic—stars, crickets, and the nearby hum of sweet music. Plenty of places to get lost with some girl and bury yourself inside of her for the night. I only did it twice. Maddy did it once. With Evan. That was the night after I found out they were dating. I haven’t come back here since.

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