Page 64 of Resist

Taking her hands in his, he placed them on his chest and rocked his hips over her thighs, his head dropping back as if the friction was making him delirious. Bile rose to my throat and my heart ached— real pain, real discomfort. I’d seen him seduce women before and it had never bothered me this much. He was a stage performer, an actor, and I paid him to do exactly what he was doing. Iwantedhim to do it and do it well. This time, though, was different. This time his actions were a deliberate attempt to elicit a reaction from me.

He wanted me to hurt like I’d hurt him.

Well, guess what, dimpled fucker, I don’t hurt.

Every time you’re hurt by someone you love you learn to love a little less. And that isn’t a bad thing. It just means you save that love for yourself. I’d saved much love for myself over the years, and I’d continue to do so. Because it was self-love that got us through the darkest and saddest moments of our life. It was self-love that helped us survive.

Dismissing his ridiculous display, I blinked the verdant fuckery away. He was just a kid playing a kid’s game, and I was too old for that shit. In fact, I scoffed, stood up, and went to the bar for a nice glass of red.

* * *

At the conclusionof the show, I stood by the door and thanked each and every one of our patrons for coming, most leaving in a much more inebriated state than they’d arrived.

“Thank youuuuu,” a young woman slurred, propped up by her less intoxicated friend.

I smiled sympathetically. “You’re very welcome. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

She applied her brakes and glanced back toward the function room. “I want to take one of them home. Sammy,” she said to her friend. “We should take one home.”

Her friend encouraged her to keep walking. “We can’t take one home, Alice.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have a man at home already.”

“But he doesn’t dance and take his clothes off.” The drunk woman giggled and attempted to remove her clothes.

“Ooookay, honey. You need to keep that on. Johnno,” I called out. “A little help, please?”

My big burly security guard butted his cigarette and made his way over. “Bit too much to drink, ay?” He threaded his arm through the drunk woman’s and held her up.

She let go of her dress and patted Johnno on the head. “You’rrrrrre a big man. Are yous from New Zealand?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I can tells. You have the New Zealand tattoos.”

“I do.”

I bit back my laugh as Johnno grumbled.

“Did you drive or need a taxi?” he asked her friend.

“I drove.”

“Point me in the direction of your car.”

“Thank you so much.” She shot him a look of apology. “She didn’t eat any dinner.”

“We need to provide food,” I murmured just as Patsy stepped up beside me singing, “Let it go, let it go.” She waved goodbye at the two women.

“What on earth are you singing? You’ve been humming that tune all night.”

She appeared shocked. “It’s fromFrozen.”

“What?”

“I went to the movies today.”