Page 43 of The Dance

Stacey walked into the women’s room, and I followed. She checked to make sure it was empty and then leaned against the door. “You know I can’t do this here.”

“I didn’t realize you were still a sugar baby. Didn’t you graduate and shit?”

She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Barely.”

“Barely?”

“I can’t do this with you here,” she huffed again.

I cupped her cheek. “Come to the bar after your date with gramps.”

She swatted at my hand. “I can’t. We’re going back to his hotel room after dinner.”

“Is that safe?”

“Please don’t.”

“Please don’t? Are you serious? After what—”

“That was months ago.”

“And that makes it better?” I snapped.

“Ugh!” she groaned and pushed me back so she could turn and open the door. “Just stop.”

I slammed the door shut. “I’m not going to fucking stop, Stacey. The last time I saw you—”

“I know,” she whispered, not turning around to face me. “But I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

“Move on?” I snorted. “Move on from what?”

“Me.”

I blinked. “Why?”

Stacey didn’t respond for a few beats, and then she cut deep. “Because you’ll only ever be a bartender, and I want more from my life.”

She opened the door and left me standing in the women’s room, seeing red.

* * *

I was pissed.

Never, and I mean never, would I haveeverthought Stacey, of all people, would speak to me the way she had in the bathroom at Fire & Brimstone. She knew my plan. Knew I didn’t want to be a fucking bartender for the rest of my life.

But maybe I would be. It had been a few years since we met, and I was still behind a bar mixing cocktails most nights.

Of course, after she’d left, I came up with what I should have said as she walked away.“That’s better than fucking old guys for money!”If I would have said that to her—cut her like she’d cut me—I would have regretted it. If she hadn’t been raped, I wouldn’t feel bad, but I couldn’t speak those words to her after knowing how torn up she was after it happened.

I was the one who saw her face that night.

I was the one who consoled her while she cried.

I was the one who held her while she slept in my arms because she was scared to sleep alone.

Iwas the one.

Something must have happened in the several months we’d not seen each other for her to not give me our standard banter. I thought that was why she met me in the bathroom until she told me to leave her alone and forget about us.