“At least it didn’t get on your dress,” Korine says with a quick wink. “So no real harm done.”
“I’m, um… gonna grab another root beer,” I announce.
I leave the old ladies’ table and go check the coolers, but they’ve been picked clean of everything except Sprite and Diet Coke.
“Looking for something, sweetie?” Mick, the bartender, asks. He’s been on the drinks while some of the other guys handle the grill.
“Just root beer.”
“There’s more in the stock room if you want to grab some.”
Thank God. An excuse to escape.
I take the out immediately. The saloon’s dark and cool after the bright patio. My footsteps echo in the otherwise empty barroom.
Everyone’s enjoying the festivities outside. I head toward the stock room, the party noise fading to a dull murmur.
Finally some peace and quiet. Some space to breathe.
Being alone can be lonely at times, but at least I can be myself. I don’t have to perform for anyoneorfeel invisible when I don’t.
It’s so confusing, how I feel lately. For weeks I’ve been desperate for company, hating the empty house, the loneliness that sat on my chest like a weight. But now I’m surrounded by people and all I want is to disappear…
The stock room is crowded with cases of beer and liquor stacked against the walls. I spot the root beer, but before I can grab one for myself, the door opens behind me.
Silver steps inside, closing the door behind him. All of a sudden, the stock room feels even more cramped. More enclosed and intimate.
I’m instantly aware of how little air is in my lungs. I draw a breath, ignoring the flutter of nerves inside me.
“Hey,” he drawls in his thick, naturally hoarse tone. “I wanted to check on you. It’s been a few days. How’re you holding up?”
I fold my arms behind my back and struggle to maintain eye contact. Peering into Silver’s eyes is quickly becoming like staring at the sun.
Except it’s as if he can see right through me. He can spend a moment observing me then simply understand I’m not okay.
He hasn’t so much as said this… but I can read him too. I can pick up on his concern.
His brows are furrowed and his shoulders are tense. He edges closer like he wants to offer comfort but isn’t sure how.
…or what is or isn’t appropriate.
I’m not sure myself. Truthfully, things between us have become so special. I never expected to confide in my uncle’s coworker.
I didn’t ever think he’d become the person I reached out to in my hour of need. But even now as we stand a few feet apart in this room, stealing a private moment alone from the rest of the party, I don’t regret a thing.
He’s still the person I would call. Because he’s the one person who notices me.
That I do know.
A bittersweet smile teases the corner of my lips, and I glance down at our shoes. “I’m fine, Silver. But… but I appreciate you asking. Or even caring.”
I chance another glance at him and can’t help feeling drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Maybe that’s why I find it so difficult to look straight at him. He eyes me with such concern and care it’s almost overwhelming.
“Listen, I know it’s not what you wanted—you don’t want to cause any trouble. But for some situations it’s necessary. Have you thought about what I said?” he asks, stepping closer. Notesof his woodsy cologne travel toward me, quickly becoming a comfort smell. “Solana, you still have options.”
“I just want to put it behind me.”
Disappointment flickers across his face, though he nods. “Alright. So long as you’re prioritizing what feels right for you.”
