There was fear.
I forced my eyes back toward the ceiling, and made myself concentrate on dancing. If I didn’t look at him, maybe he wouldn’t try to talk to me.
I closed my eyes, and the swing of my hips felt like I’d been set to sea. The shots had definitely kicked in. I was affected by them just enough that I felt warm and my head light. My skin tingled, and I wondered if he was looking at me. My muscles had loosened, and the more I twisted and rolled my body to the music, the better I felt. I imagined the look in his eyes, and it made my blood pump faster.
Trestle had a retro theme, so I didn’t have to dance to any brain-liquefying pop music. With my eyes closed like this, the smell of smoke wafting in from outside, and the undercurrent of desire thrumming beneath my skin, I could almost pretend that it was the 1960s, and I was working here in the go-go bar’s prime.
I opened my eyes and found Cade.
It felt natural, like the pull of gravity.
Normally, looking at someone from up here felt too awkward and intimate. Meeting his gaze was intimate, but it wasn’t awkward. It was exhilarating.
Despite how much he scared me, I felt comfortable with him. It was complicated. Looking at him, I knew this wasn’t the kind of fear that sent you running for the hills. It was the kind of fear that made people jump off cliffs and climb mountains—the kind of fear that told you something miraculous was waiting at the end of it, if you could only get there.
Getting there was the problem though. I wasn’t the climbing mountains kind of girl. As appealing as the summit seemed now, I knew myself well enough to know I’d give up halfway there, and then I’d be left with only the pain of the journey, and none of the reward.
I preferred my life to be as uncomplicated as possible. There was nothing to learn about guys like Mace, and no journey needed to land him. What you saw was what you got. I understood him. And more importantly, he was the kind of guy who couldn’t break my heart, because I would never let him have it and he would never care enough to want it.
But Cade . . .
For the life of me, I couldn’t understand what Cade could possibly want with me. I couldn’t understand why his eyes were burning through the layers of my skin while a pretty blonde sat pouting a few tables away.
I tore my eyes away and threw myself into the music.
Music wasn’t complicated. It was math. Patterns. Highs and lows.
Music made sense to me in a way that life and people didn’t. It was predictable. My hips knew instinctively when to move. The riffs and changes untangled my mind. Time folded in on itself, and I lost myself.
I imagined I was singing up on this platform, too, instead of just dancing. The tension in me ebbed, and I floated away on a melody. I ran my hands across my sweat-slicked stomach, since I didn’t have my guitar. My body was my only instrument. I let the music flow through me, and I danced for what could have been minutes or hours or lifetimes.
Eventually I started to feel the strain in my legs. The hair that lay against my neck was damp with sweat. My throat went dry.
The song changed, and in the few seconds of silence, the world came back to me. The bar intruded on my mind once again. I wasn’t singing, and I wasn’t alone.
Cade’s eyes appeared black in the dim bar, and I could see the rise and fall of his chest from here. I turned and twisted my hips while he watched me. A tickle ran up my spine, the kind that made my whole body shiver in a good way. I must have really lost track of time dancing because there were half-eaten plates of food in front of him and his friend.
I made eye contact with Shelly, one of the bartenders, and asked her what time it was.
“Eleven!” she yelled up at me.
Shit. I should have taken my break fifteen minutes ago. Now it was time for my bartender shift. Katie, who I was taking over for, waved me off and said, “Don’t worry about it. Go take your break!”
I blew her an exaggerated kiss, and waved at the new girl on the other side of the bar to let her know I was leaving. Then I hopped off my platform.
I pushed through the crowd of people trying to flag down the bartenders and escaped through the front door. My sweaty skin tightened under the caress of the cold air. I sighed in satisfaction.
Bouncer Benny asked if I wanted a smoke, and I just moaned in response. He understood. No words needed. I didn’t smoke often, not anymore. But I think today, I deserved a little break. Benny was lighting the end of my cigarette when the door swung open, and Cade stepped out.
My heart sped up in response.
I took a deep drag on the cigarette, and took my time exhaling. Maybe it was seeing him at a place like Trestle or seeing him in a situation that didn’t involve my parents or the connection I’d felt with him as I danced, but he didn’t look quite like the nice guy I’d met this morning.
And that realization was dangerous.
9
Cade
Max was . . . unearthly. Ethereal. Unattainable.
Her pale skin glowed under the low amber light. I didn’t know where to look as she danced. I wanted to memorize all of her. Her eyes were lined with dark kohl that made the blue of her eyes shine and pierce straight through me. I’d seen the branches of her tree tattoo and now the roots. Imagining the art that lay between was maddening. She bore other tattoos, too small for me to identify. From here they resembled runes or hieroglyphs, like she was a goddess. Exotic and forbidden.
Immortal.
That was what she looked like. She was the kind of sight that I would never, could never forget.
The few times her eyes met mine, my blood pumped furiously through my veins, I clenched my fists, and had the urge to do something crazy. I wanted to walk up to her platform and join her, or throw her over my shoulder and take her away where no one else could see her.