Страница 27 из 111
Chapter 9 (Lou-Lou)
The air around me buzzes and I tip my head back and laugh as I try my hardest to keep up with Atticus on the dance floor.
He really wasn't kidding, he can dance circles around everyone else here.
The Devil Went Down to Georgia starts up and I quickly run over to the bar. “Alabama slammer, please,” I say as everyone around the small bar cheers.
A pair of calloused hands find my hips and I throw my head back and begin slowly grinding against him.
I hear Atticus's sharp intake of breath as I continue swaying to the music. “Hot damn...if I didn't know any better, I'd think the devil went down to Alabama, tonight, darlin'.”
I giggle as the bartender slides my drink across the bar. “After this I'm cut off.”
Atticus gives me a wink and taps his glass against mine. “Sounds like a plan.”
Even though I'm starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and I'm having fun for the first time in a long time—I'm not looking to get drunk.
I'm just looking to escape for a little while.
I take a few more sips of my drink and hum along to the music.
“Looks like you wa
Before I can blink, he grabs my hand and leads me to it.
“Only for a few more songs,” I shout above the music as he twirls me around. “It's getting late and I have to go home and study.”
I'm fighting to catch my breath when a slow country song begins and I have to close my eyes because the lyrics from the Lady Antebellum song are too much for me to handle right now.
I say a silent prayer they don't play a certain song by The Pretenders after this as Atticus pulls my body flush against his. “I can help you, you know. It's kind of my area of expertise.”
“No thanks.” The room begins to spin around me. “I don't need any help, I need to do this on my own.”
He grins, until he looks down at me. “What's the matter?”
“Nothing.”
I don't realize that I've stopped dancing until that moment...I also can't help but notice that my heart feels like it's going to pound right out of my chest.
“I'm go
He tips his cowboy hat at me and gives me a smile. “Sure thing, sweetheart.“
I return his smile before I head to the restroom. As soon as I'm inside, I lock the door behind me and walk over to the sink. Then I splash water over my face and force myself to breathe until my lungs can't take in any more air.
I don't know why I'm feeling so off right now considering I've only had two drinks—technically one and a half— because my second one is still sitting on the bar half full.
That's when it hits me. “Another fucking panic attack,” I grumble into the mirror.
I forcefully snatch some paper towels from the dispenser and dry my hands and face.
Atticus is a nice guy, I remind myself. The kind of guy I should be pursuing something with.
Another swaying sensation hits me but I force myself to ignore it and stand up straight.
“Don't let him ruin this,” I say as I look at myself in the mirror. “Either of them.”
I fill my lungs with another deep breath and let it flow through me.
I want to forget about DeLuca...and I really want to forget about Ricardo. And the more time I spend with Atticus, it's clear he's just the person to make that happen.
Even if it's only for a little while...and even if it's only for one night...it's better than nothing.
I need to move on...I need to try and move on for good.
How do you move on from the only thing that makes you whole?—My stupid mind taunts.
“Fuck you, Ricardo.” I scream out loud so I can stop the sob that's gripping my throat. “Fuck you for letting me go.”
Fuck you for everything you've ever done. Including making me fall in love with you.
“How do you move on from the only thing that makes you whole?” I ask out loud to my own reflection.
I reach down and pick up the heavy, metal door stopper off the floor.
“Watch me.”
I throw the object at the mirror and watch the glass shatter and break...just like me.
Then I open the bathroom door and walk out to meet Atticus with the biggest smile on my face...because that's the biggest fuck you to Ricardo I can think of.
“You alright?” Atticus asks me when I walk up to him at the bar.
Another swaying sensation grips me, but I pay it no mind. My stupid panic attacks can kick rocks right now.
“Never better.”
And it's the truth...I'm feeling so much calmer compared to a few minutes ago.
He hands me a glass. “Well in that case, let's have one more drink before we leave.”
“This one's full,” I note while looking down at it. “My drink was half empty.”
He looks around the bar and tilts his head so his lips are directly over my ear. “You left your drink at the bar, darlin'. Who knows what some jerk could have done to it while we were gone.” He kisses my cheek. “I got you a new one.”
“Oh, yeah...you're right.” I fight the flush in my cheeks for not realizing that myself. “And thanks.”
He clinks his glass against mine. “Don't mention it.”
I pull in another deep breath because I feel like I can't seem to get enough air—and this time, I down the entire glass.
Atticus looks both shocked and impressed. “Damn, girl. Well, okay then. You about ready to go?”
I glance in the direction of dance floor again...studying can wait until tomorrow. “I want to stay a little longer.”
“Shit.” He glances at his watch. “You know, you were right before...it's getting late.” He slides off the bar stool and stands up. “I mean, if you really want to we can stay.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling envelops me as his hand brushes the small of my back and he stares down at me.
“I don't want to stay,” I whisper, the warm feeling spreading and intensifying.“I want to leave...with you.”
He grins and pulls his wallet out of his pocket. The hand on the small of my back moves even lower and settles there as he pays the bartender and proceeds to lead me out of the bar.
The lights in the parking lot look both brighter and duller and bigger and smaller as we continue making our way to his truck.
“My car,” I say, halting him. “I have a car.”
He opens the door to his truck. “It's still at the school, remember?”
I climb inside his truck, feeling like an idiot.
“Oh yeah. That's right.” Why didn't I remember that?
He closes the door and I feel my entire body twitch. “Atticus,” I whisper, my voice sounding much more slurred now than before.
My eyes dart around the truck nervously, I feel like I have no control over my own body suddenly and I need him to reassure me that everything is okay. Why am I so drunk?
“I only had two drinks tonight...right?”
My head spins, my stomach churns and I dig my nails into the seat and fight to hold on.
My brain feels like it can't put things together...not like it should. My sense of reality feels altered somehow.
It's like someone pressed the fast-forward button and I'm stuck in rewind mode trying to keep up and understand what's happening around me.
He rests his arm on my seat as he backs out of the parking lot. “That's right. But you slammed that last one down, which means it's time to get you home.” He shifts the truck into drive and winks at me. “After you tell me your address, of course.”