Page 137 of Between the Blue
I allow Ben to fade into the crowd and out of my line of sight as I begin lip syncing along to the song, dancing like the bartop is my own personal stage.
I shake my hips and spin around, making a big show out of flipping my hair back and forth when the chorus begins. I pretend like the other people in the bar don’t even exist and like I’m dancing and singing in my kitchen like I always do.
Clearly my strategy works, because I have the whole bar going wild. I can hear the other players chanting my name, Rhett clearly at the forefront, and don’t even try to stop the smile it brings to my face.
By the time the song comes to a close, and I’ve probably headbanged in sync to the wordcherryverging on fifty times, my head is pounding and I can feel a sheen of sweat present across my whole body. But it’s worth it. Because the place absolutely erupts into applause.
I give a dramatic bow, staying down for a moment to catch my breath, and when I raise my head again, I find Caroline standing a few feet in front of me with wide eyes.
“What the hell did I miss?” she questions me as I’m hopping down from the bar.
“Nothing worth repeating,” I tell her, grabbing her drink from Jeff and passing it to her. “And I’m sorry, but I think I’m gonna head home for the night.”
“That’s one hell of a way to make an exit,” she says. “I can’t even blame you.”
I give her a tight smile and pat her shoulder before I head for the door without looking back.
I get lucky, finding a taxi available to take me home just outside of Randall’s.
And then, an hour later, I’m home, showered, in my pajamas, and ready to turn my brain off for the rest of the night.
I grab my blanket from my bed and my go-to book for when I just want to escape and feel something from my shelf and head into my living room.
I plop down on the couch and just get situated with my book when I freeze.
My head snaps up and I blink several times before unlocking my phone to check the time. Seeing it’s well past midnight, I’m sure I must have just been hearing things and open my book once more.
I let out a sigh, beginning to reread the first sentence when I hear the same noise again, but louder this time.
I look up at my door and wait several seconds.
And then it comes again.
The knocking.
thirty-seven
HER
“What in the hell?” I mutter aloud.
I drop my book onto my lap and start to pull my blanket up, as if that will somehow protect me from whoever is on the other side of my door. But then more knocking comes.
I hop up off the couch, making a beeline for my kitchen. Without even thinking, I grab the largest knife from the block on my counter and creep back towards the front door. I hold my breath as I move to peer through the peephole, and then feel my whole body go slack.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I set the knife down on my entryway table and unlock the door, letting it swing open.
Ben stands with one arm braced against the wall outside my door, his head down.
“So I get interrogated if I show up at a public bar, but you can show up at my apartment?”
Ben raises his head, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I mean, seriously,” I say, “you’ve got some nerve.”
He stands up straight, looking me up and down.
