Chapter 42
Wren
“Ineededthis,”Ishoutover the music blasting, sending vibrations through my chest.
Greer’s face lights up, cheeks flushed pink from the heat.
Sweat slides down my spine, seeping into the fabric of my dress. I need air.
Not water or another drink. I’ve had too many of those tonight, but it felt good to cut loose. For one night, the fear has subsided.
I scan the bar instinctively.
In the last hour we’ve been here, the place has only gotten more crowded. Locals are stepping inside to escape the humid night air, not yet ready to call it a night.
My eyebrows pinch when I come up empty. Jett’s nowhere to be found. He passed by a moment ago, his strong hands squeezing my hip as he went by.
Leaning forward, I brush Greer’s hair away from her ear. “I need to pee,” I shout.
“Want me to come?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be right back. Save our space.”
She eyes me skeptically and I can see the war raging behind them.
“Promise. I’ll be fine.” I squeeze her hand before bouncing off shoulders as I make my way toward the back.
I pass the high top where he was sitting. Levi nurses a beer while Heath rambles on animatedly. The bar is overflowing with patrons, and all the bartenders are working extra hard.
I tell myself he must be in the bathroom. Or outside smoking a cigarette.
The thought pulls a smile from me, a chance to sneak a few kisses without prying eyes. Turns out, I can’t get enough of him. This need I have for him is insatiable. We’ve always been this way, running hot for each other, but this time around, it’s different. More carnal.
I move into the long hallway, where the bathrooms are located and the back door. Something uneasy prickles at the back of my skull, but I chalk it up to paranoia.
A man steps out of the bathroom as I approach, nearly bumping into me. He’s familiar, someone I should remember, but can’t think of his name.
“Ope, 'scuse me,” I tell him, jumping back.
“No problem,” he says as he moves around me.
“Oh.” I turn on my heels, stopping the guy. “Jett Riggsby wouldn’t happen to be in there, would he?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, only me.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a tight-lipped smile. My shoulders fall slightly.
Chewing on my lower lip, I glance over my shoulder and scan the faces I can make out. Still no Jett.
I’m about to push on the door when it flies open. Laughter funnels in along with the humidity it carries in with it. I slip through the opening and into the night.
Darkness wraps around me, broken only by a few strands of lights hanging above the tiny patio. Streetlamps cast a golden glow stretching down the alley. The light doesn’t chase the shadows, only makes them more prominent.
“J?” I call out, turning my head from side to side. The smell of cigarette smoke lingers in the air. Fireworks crack in the night sky as blinding crimson rains down, followed by the crackle.
Jett confessed how much fireworks bother him. How can it be fine one minute and huddled in the fetal position the next?
Wariness hits me, but I push the emotion away. My only concern is finding Jett and making sure he’s okay.
