Page 21 of The Bleeding Hearts Club

What are you doing, Mina? You’re going to look like an idiot. Jesus. Don’t step on his feet. For the love of god, don’t step on anyone’s fucking toes.

I grab her around the waist, and we start to sway during the small pause between songs.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Theo,” she whispers, not looking at me. I smile down at her, squeezing her slightly.

“Don’t worry, Mina. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

She looks up at me with surprise in her eyes. They soften as they lock on mine and “I Miss You” begins to play through the speakers.

A few people around us begin mumbling their distaste for the change in pace, but there’s a surprising amount of people who stay on the dance floor, grabbing partners to sway to the song from Blink-182.

Mina’s hair tickles my neck and jaw as she leans her head against my chest. Cherries. Sweet, sour cherries fill the air. I lean down, my mouth by her ear as I begin to softly sing the lyrics of her favorite song to her.

Her arms tighten around my neck, and I can hear her heartbeat speeding up. The rush of blood intensifies the sweet smell of her. I sharply inhale, and she shivers.

God, this was a terribly wonderful, bad idea.

Chapter 9

Mina

Last night was…well…I’m not really sure. I don’t remember very much of it.

I remember Theo being Mr. Room 9, being shocked that it was him, but not at the same time. I mean, of course he was Theo. Theo’s the only person on this goddamn island I have been able to stand speaking to for more than five words, but then again, Theo’s interaction limit pretty much spans five minutes before he annoys the shit out of me.

Last night, though, that was a bit different. When he had said he was meeting someone too, I was angry—annoyed. I don’t know. Maybe I was just upset that the only person I had allied with here was no longer going to be as miserable as me, but maybe not.

When he said he was meeting the girl from room six, I was relieved. Above all else, I was so relieved to know that I wasn’t alone; in hating this retreat experience, in feeling like that call was the most meaningful conversation I have had in a very long time, and that I was seen. He finds purpose in the small moments of life just like I do, which was kind of surprising.

Theo in all his conventionally attractive, humorous, unserious, dorky glory subverted all of my expectations.

I didn’t know golden retrievers had such large emotional ranges.

You know what they say about people who assume, though, so what does that really say about me?

That’s where all the problems come from. It’s me, it’s always me. Too brash, too outlandish, too judgmental, too dark, too blunt, too unrealistic, too big.

People in real life disappoint too much, hence, why I prefer the men in my books. Fictional men don’t demean you unless you ask for it.

Unlike my ex…es. Every single one of them. I made the first move and I guess they just saw me as easy bait. Manipulating, gaslighting me into some picturesque view of the woman they want. No one can just accept me as I am. Isn’t that good enough?

Theo, damn him, he’s just chipping away at the wall I had built around myself to repel the male gender. The red flags are waving high and proud above this guy’s head, and me and my dumbass self just keep ignoring them, giving him more of my time. More opportunity to burrow beneath my skin and pull all the fucking strings.

I know I can’t have what I read about. It’s fake. It’s unrealistic. Those scenarios don’t exist, at least not for people like me. There aren’t main characters like me. I’ve accepted that. I accepted that years ago, but fucking Theo and his sweet gestures and constant flirting and compliments. He’s getting too damn close to accurate male protagonist energy for my liking.

Take last nights for example. The Blink-182 song? Dancing?! He got me to fucking dance with him. While he sang to me, my favorite song by the way. I was comfortable in the most uncomfortable situation possible. Like that whole setting is a thing of nightmares, and he had me laughing. I barely paid attention to the crowd the entire time he held me in his arms.

Then he walked me back to my room while I was drunk as hell.

Actually—maybe he doesn’t have some weird superpower over me. Maybe it was just the alcohol, because nothing else can explain the way I was acting so carefree and dare I say, companionable. Gag. Eww.

Most of the night after the dance floor is just flashes of images. I knew the daiquiris were a bad idea, but it was hot with all those bodies in such a small space, plus the torches lighting the patio. One thing I know for sure was what happened when Theo walked me back to my room.

* * *

My laughter filtered through the quiet halls as I stumbled across the carpeted floor. The buzz in my head was enlightening. It has been a long time since I have gotten this drunk. I think the last time I was this out of it was Lou’s twenty-first birthday. Theo trailed beside me, his hand wrapped tightly around my waist.

God, his hands are huge, and perfect. Veiny.