Page 47 of Quietly Falling
The Hoot & Holler is every bit as rowdy as the name might suggest. Loud music, uneven wood floors, and a crowd that you normally couldn’t pay me to get in the middle of. A huge mural of a black-and-white owl adorns one wall, and a mix of small owl-themed items are hung behind the large black painted bar.
It’s a great spot if you like this sort of thing, which, arguably, I do not.
You’re here for her,I remind myself, but even that feels futile the second we step inside.
Ella was stopped and hugged by no fewer than fifteen people from the door to the bar, her jean-clad ass sticking out as she leans across the bar and talks to the bartender—someone she also knows.
Roman grabbed us drinks, and he didn’t even ask what I wanted before shoving a shot of whiskey in my hand, clinking his own against mine before handing me a beer. The whiskey burned but I couldn’t object—not tonight, not when I need it as badly as I do.
“Sorry!” Ella says, her cheeks flushed as she wraps her arms around my waist and giggles, apparently having enjoyed her own shot ofsomething. “Thank you for coming. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” I swallow hard, missing her warmth immediately as she stands and smooths down her shirt. “You look happy seein’ everyone here.”
“I’ve been coming here my whole life, so it’s a lot of catching up, you know?” I give her an encouraging smile, knowing absolutely nothing about wanting tocatch upwith a whole room of people. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“Don’t worry about me. Go see who you want to see; I’ll be right here.”
She hesitates like she thinks I might bolt off this chair at any moment.
It’s a fair assumption but I won’t do that to her—at least not yet.
No, it takes another hour before my need to run from this place sets in. Ella’s dancing on the floor with a circle of girls, a group of guys around them trying to get their attention. I want to smash something with my bare hands every time one gets close to Ella, but I have no claim on her.
Just friends.
There’s no fucking way I can bejust friendswith her.
Not when I want all those smiles and touches for myself.
Not when I want to be inside her.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket to look at the screen.
TOM OAKDEN: I might have something for you soon
BODHI: That’s not cryptic at all
TOM OAKDEN: Confirming details—just wanted you to have a heads-up
BODHI: For what?
TOM OAKDEN: Just be ready
Fuck.
Whatever it is, I can almost guarantee it won’t be good, and whatever was left of my good mood evaporates in an instant.
I need to go.
And I’m also not gonna cause a scene because she’s happy and I love seeing that smile on her face. I just wish it was directed atme.
Looking around, I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be claimed in a room like this. For everyone to know she’s mine.
I can see Roman watching me out of the corner of his eye as I attempt to strangle my beer glass, the one I’ve been nursing all night, as Ella dances around the bar. She’s the life of the party, laughing and moving her body in a way that’s hypnotizing and definitely not for me.
I look away and meet Roman’s gaze, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Here you go,” the bartender says as he places the bag in front of me, and I’m thankful I’d already put my escape in motion.
