Page 10 of Cedarwood Cabin

I try to avoid eye contact with him as I feel his intense gaze study me.

Nancy places a few beers on the bar and he picks them up effortlessly between his fingers. His forearms flex, making the veins prominent. Something about his arms makes me feel weak.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. As he turns to walk away, his eyes linger on me. He heads back to the pool table where his friends are waiting.

Letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I try to shake off the encounter. My father and Marty carry on talking, not noticing.

I glance back over at the group—the females are all over the Faulkner brothers. One woman with long, brown hair and a tight-fitting dress stands between the legs of the light-haired Faulkner brother as he sits on a stool. She leans in close to him, screaming for his attention, but he doesn't seem interested in her. His eyes glance over her shoulder and lock onto me as he smiles mockingly.

Feeling exposed, I quickly look down at my food. My heart pounds in my chest. I can’t help but wonder why he is focusing on me.

“Everything okay?” my father asks. I snap back into reality.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He reassures me with a pat and returns to his conversation with Marty. I take a deep breath.

Suddenly, the jukebox starts playing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! by Shania Twain.

The females in the group jump up and down, clapping their hands. They rush around the bar, grabbing the hands of every lady and pulling them into their dance party. The one who was flirting with the Faulkner brother runs over to me and grabs my hand.

“Come on! Join us!” she excitedly exclaims.

“Oh, no, thank you.” A wave of shyness washes over me.

My father turns to me with a grin and says, “Go have fun, Flora.”

Reluctantly, I let the woman pull me towards the pool tables where the other women are dancing. They form a circle around me and I join them as embarrassment flushes through my cheeks. As I move to the music, I glance at the Faulkner brothers. They are standing nearby with beers in hand, their eyes fixated on me. The lighter-haired brother smirks at me again—his gaze unwavering and intense. The darker-haired brother watches me with a more neutral expression, but his eyes don’t leave me, either.

“Man! I feel like a woman!” the women shout in unison, their voices mingling with the music. They spin around, clapping and cheering.

I glance over at my father to see him sitting at the bar, smiling at me. His conversation with Marty has paused as he watches me. Pure pride and happiness light up his face and it gives me a boost of confidence. I feel like all eyes are on me, but I don’t care.

As we continue to dance, more women join in. I feel like a free-spirited woman as we all dance and sing.

Everyone applauds and cheers when the song comes to an end. I find myself feeling breathless as

I return to the bar and my father. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks.

I gulp loudly, trying to catch my breath.

“Your daughter can dance, Jerry!” Marty says, patting my father on the back.

Marty looks at me and I blush, looking down and sipping my soda.

“Do you two wanna play some pool?” Marty asks, tilting his head toward the pool tables.

My father jumps down from his stool and says, “Sure.”

I follow close behind as they walk over to the pool table, the Faulkner brothers and their friends playing at the next table.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see that my Auntie Vicky is calling. “Dad, Auntie Vicky is calling. It’s loud in here…I’m gonna take it outside!” I shout over the noise.

I step outside and the cool air hits my cheek. I look down at my phone and see I just missed her call. I try calling her back, holding the phone up to my ear. Looking around the parking lot, I see a group of men on motorcycles pull up. They jump off their bikes, remove their helmets, and start walking over to the bar. They stop outside the door, leaning against the walls. I try calling my auntie back, but it goes straight to voicemail.

I put my phone in my back pocket and walk over to the bar door.

One of the men with dark blond hair steps in front of me, blocking me from entering the bar. “Well, well, well. Hello,” he says with a smirk.

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