let him stamp my hand before going in the door.
The place hasn’t changed a bit. It’s exactly how I remember it.
I order a drink at the bar and take a sip when the bartender finally slides it over to me.
Weaving my way to the side room with all the cages, I find an empty high top table in the back, finish my drink instead of just setting it down where anybody can mess with it, and I move to the music pounding the room, one song transitioning to the next, a mix night with a blend of old music and new, dark and happy, the DJ perfectly blending so many different types of music that I fall in love with the utter chaos of it.
I’m sweating by the time I return to the bar, order a water and another drink, slamming both before I return to my spot and dance within the crowd around me.
A few men approach me, but I politely decline and dance away from them, this night is for me and nobody else.
One more drink and another hour of dancing and I’m feeling amazing, sweat dripping down my skin, my hair a wild mess, my body moving through every song as I sway my hips seductively and spin.
The Killer’s Mr. Brightside starts playing, and I smile and begin to move, the upbeat music and lyrics reminding me of when I was young.
But then it happens, the hair standing up on the back of my neck, the feeling I get every now and then that someone is watching. I used to ignore it in the past, but now it’s enough to stop me in place, to make my feet move as I spin in a slow circle to study every person in the room.
The song is just hitting the chorus when I spot a tall man in the back of the room. He leans against a wall, a black jacket covering his broad shoulders, his face concealed by shadow, his dark hair a mess around his head.
Do you have any idea how many times I’ve watched you dance and wished I could fuck you right there in front of everybody? Just splay you open and force my body between your legs.
No.
It can’t be.
I hate to admit how my heart bursts at the thought of seeing Ari again, how the first thought in my head is elation that he is still watching, instead of hatred for what he did.
As soon as I stare at his face, he moves to leave, weaving his way through the crowd as he turns his shoulders and slips past a tight group of people.
Chasing after him, I collide with a few people before finally finding a straight shot through the crowd, my feet moving quickly as I yell stop! at his back.
Practically running, I catch up to him just as he’s approaching the front door, my hand slamming on his shoulder to turn him around.
A smile lights up my face as he spins to face me, the expression melting into a frown when a set of blue eyes look back at me.
“Sorry,” I mumble, the joy bleeding out of me. “I thought you were someone else.”
The guy shrugs before turning to leave.
I’m left standing in a sea of moving people, my heart choking on the realization that despite everything, Ari is the only person I still need.
Six Months Post Ari
“These are beautiful, Adeline. Absolutely stunning. I can tell you poured your heart into these shots.”
Standing near a far wall in the gallery, I turn at Rebecca’s voice, her long strawberry blond hair falling in waves down her back, her black sequined gown shimmering.
The night is winding down, only a few stragglers left wandering the gallery to view my art.
Glancing down at her figure, I’m astonished to see she’s lost all the weight from her pregnancy, the dress hugging all her curves in such a way that she’s a knockout.
“Thank you,” I answer, unable to hide my shock.
She grins at me and bumps my shoulder with hers. “It’s easy to lose the weight when you’re working out constantly.”
“I can’t imagine you in a gym,” I remark.
“That’s because I consider it more a playroom.” There’s a twinkle in her eye as she says it, something secret and dirty behind that crooked grin.
“How’s motherhood treating you?”
Another grin. “Our daughter is amazing. I’m absolutely in love with her, but her father is having a hard time with it.”
“He’s not used to the late nights and all the crying