The entire idea is as outrageous as it sounds in my head. I’m the realist, the girl who holds everything together while the world burns around me. I’m the last person to wax poetic about kismet or fate. Still, I have no doubt there will be mebeforethis dance and there will be theafter. And what I wouldn’t give for time to pause so thenowcould last just a little bit longer.
14
don’t pop your dimples at me
Rowan - now
All mannersof the space-time continuum have been tampered with.
This place hasn’t changed—down to the stools we’re sitting on. Alan’s changed even less.
Hannah drops her purse on the bar. Her whole body sinks over a long breath, the weight of what happened in the parking lot bearing down hard. Under the bar, I see her knees dotted with the imprints of crawling over strewn pieces of asphalt. Her fists clench around the memory of keys staggered between her fingers. And the color of my rage, desperate for revenge, is the same as the rings around her wrist.Red.
Her tears have stopped, but the evidence remains as Alan so eloquently points out. “He responsible for your tears, dollface?”
She laughs a little. It’s pained and weak, but the sound eases something inside of me. “That bad, huh,” she says, swiping her fingers under her eyes.
The bartender doesn’t respond. Just stares at her like a protective grandpa ready to throw me out on my ass if she gives the word.
“No,” she sighs. “It wasn’t him.”
Alan offers a curt nod. “What’ll it be then? I only got beer, shots, liquor neat or on the rocks.”
Hannah side-eyes me with a quirked mouth before she orders two shots of tequila. Alan turns on me then. “You gonna take care of getting the lady home safe?”
“Yes, sir.” I know his next move. Before he can make it, I add, “Water for me.”
Alan gets to work behind the bar as Hannah climbs off her stool. “I’m gonna go to the restroom.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“I can go to the bathroom by myself.”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t. For my sake, I’d rather walk you.”
Hands on her hips, she huffs and pings her eyes between the ladies room and me. “This place is the size of a matchbox. You can see the bathroom door from here.”
“You know what?” I hop down from my seat. “I actually need to visit the men’s room too.” My gaze locks on hers over my shoulder as I move in that direction. “You coming?”
She squints. I curl one corner of my mouth.
“Don’t pop your dimples at me,” she grumbles.
Hannah stomps past. I slide my hands in my pockets and follow, smiling after her.
Do I need to use the restroom? She already knows I don’t. But I’ll be damned if another man so much as looks at her wrong and I’m not close enough to stop it.
When she emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, the mascara streaks have been washed away. She tosses back one tequila shot, then another before her ass hits the seat.
The burning alcohol tumbles down her throat against a wince. Eyes pinched, she shakes away the burn and promptly signals Alan for another.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” I ask, spinning to face her.
Her attention remains locked on the empty shot glass she’s twirling in her fingers. A sharp crease forms between her brows. “I mean, I think you saw what happened.”
“Who was he?”
She avoids my gaze, swallows once. “Blind date.”