Save Me (6 page)

“
Where’s Nick?” Chrissy asks.

“
Nick who?” I kid and she looks at me questioningly. Everyone in our circle knows about Nick and our arrangement.

“
He had to leave,” Allie says. “He got a case of the blue balls. A
permanent
case.”

“
There’s a lot of that going around,” the young stud at the tip of Chrissy’s fingers shouts.

I laugh, my voice cracking and dry.

“
I need some water!” I yell to Allie. She nods and waves me toward the bar.

I squeeze between people, trying to be polite to a bunch of drunks. I finally make it to the bar, but not without stepping on a few toes and bumping a few elbows.

“
Lemme have it, Billy,” I yell over the head of two older women who aren't as lucky as Allie and me when it comes to bar service. Billy watches our drinks for us when we dance to make sure no one adds a little something extra to them. He hands me a bottle of water and I take a deep drink, relishing the cold.

I scan the club, see some people I know and wave. Nick seems to have disappeared. Maybe I'll regret breaking off our fucked up arrangement, probably in a few weeks when my libido takes issue with it. At least I have my new vibrator and a new guy to fantasize about. I wonder idly where Jack is right now.

“
You call this fun?” A voice booms in my ear.

I shrink away and spin around clumsily. Jack stands beside me wearing his gray pea coat and a pained expression.

“
I thought you weren’t into this scene anymore,” I say. I’m so surprised to see him standing there that my muscles clench where they shouldn’t.

“
I’m not.” He strains to be heard over the sound of the music. "I used to be, but that was a long time ago."

“
Then why are you here?” I take another drink of water.

“
I wasn't finished talking to you,” he says simply.

“
You came here just to talk to
me
?” I ask.

“
Yes. Can we leave here?”

“
Well, I’m here with my friend,” I point to the dance floor. "Why don't you stay?"

"I thought I made it clear that I don't like clubs," he shouts, his face so incredibly attractive. His white button down is glowing almost purple in the black light of the club.

"Oh, come on. You’re too young to be sitting at home at 11:30 on a Saturday night. Let yourself live a little!" I turn the water up and take another drink.

"Fine, but you have to come sit with me. Deal?"

"Only if you agree to dance with me," I counter.

"No," Jack raises both hands in the air in defiance. "I don't dance."

"Well, I don't sit," I challenge. "Either you come dance with me or you'll have to resign yourself to the fact that you drove all the way here from wherever you went when you left the bar for nothing."

"Do you always have to have your way?" Jack asks, giving me the first true smile since he got here.

"Yes, when I can get it," I answer, finishing my water.

"Fine. One song,
one
. Then you're parking your sweet ass in a chair and talking to me. Now do we have a deal?"

The last few songs have been real get down on it songs and I know it's time for a slow one. Jack's big hands on my waist, holding me close. I'll be able to breathe him in as deep and as much as I want. And he thinks I have a sweet ass.

I hold out my hand. "Deal." His fingers brush mine and I swear there are sparks, audible and visual sparks as we touch.

I squeal as Jack takes my whole hand, his eyes slanted in determination, and leads me toward the dance floor. He spots an empty table, pulls off his coat, and slings it over the chair without stopping.

Allie is dancing with some guy I don't know and I wave to her as Jack leads me onto the checkerboard floor. She shoots me a surprised expression followed by an excited thumbs up. The last beat of the song dies out and another slower one starts up.

We manage as close to the middle of the dance floor as the crowd will allow and Jack slides his arm around my waist in one smooth move. I put one hand on his broad shoulder, inexplicably happy just to be touching him.

A whiney saxophone starts up accompanied by Edwin McCain's scratchy voice. The song hushes everyone on the dance floor and Jack pulls me against his body even tighter.

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful stop me and steal my breath.

Jack pulls my arm up and puts it closer to his neck, squeezing me so close to him that I feel his belt buckle above my belly button. I'm almost pleasantly suffocating on the smell of his skin. He moves slowly to the music, every movement of his body sending out tiny tendrils of his scent to invade my head.

"You know, I have to say, this ain't half bad." Jack smiles at me, tiny dimples forming at the edge of his beard.

"Oh my god, he knows how to have fun!" I cry.

"Cut it out or I'll dip you when this is over."

"You wouldn't dare," I challenge.

Jack's eyes are alight at being tempted.

"Oh, I. Would. Dare." Each word comes out with a deliberate intensity. If he’s trying to do something to me, he’s doing it. He nuzzles into my hair and I can feel him breathe me in.

I'll be captivated. I'll hang from your lips instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above.

He reaches up and takes my hand, holding it out like they do in old movies as we move together. His thick forearm is curled around my waist, claiming me if only for the few minutes of the song. This is what sexy feels like; this is how a man is supposed to hold a woman.

I let myself touch him, really feel the curve of thick muscle underneath his shirt, his hot and
slightly sweaty palm. It's almost as if I've been pulled from some other time in my life, a time when I would've let myself want someone like him. I inhale and exhale, each breath bringing his smell into me.

And rain falls angry on the tin roof. As we lie awake in my bed. You're my survival, you're my living proof. My love is alive and not dead.

"How did you really find me, Jack? And why?" I ask, looking up at him to see his face when he answers.

He takes a minute to gather his thoughts.

"Let's just say when I ran into you last night...it just struck something in me. And as far as the how, you really shouldn't tell horny porn store owners like Bub where you work." He gives me a wink and I smile.

The brief encounter with him struck something in me, too. But of course, I keep my mouth shut and just lean into him. He just gave me the best possible answer to my question, so why can't I say something nice back? I feel it, but why the fuck can't I say it? The heat he causes in my body and the way parts of me respond to his voice, his touch…am I not supposed to say these things to him? His eyes move from my eyes to my mouth, where they linger. I bite at my lip a little, just to get a reaction.

I'll be your crying shoulder. I'll be love’s suicide. And I'll be better when I'm older, I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.

I let Jack pull me closer to him, sliding his other arm around me. I wrap my arms around his neck and it feels like nothing I've ever felt before. We’re so close to each other that my body assumes this is a precursor to sex and starts to respond, first with a dampening of my panties and a tingling of my nipples. His jaw line tenses in the glow of the lights and I feel his hands start to venture down my hips a little before he stops himself. My breath hitches in my throat and I start to tell him how he makes me feel.

The song drifts away and immediately goes into a Rihanna song. The mood is broken and I missed my chance.

"That's it," he says, leaning away from me and breaking the tangle of us. "You got your dance, now come sit with me." Jack doesn't wait for an answer and pulls me by the hand away from the dance floor. Allie tries to motion us over, but I point to Jack and toward where our table is.

My body is so flushed with heat and sexual frustration that I have to fan my face to cool my cheeks.

"Another water?" Jack offers.

I nod at him, still fuming at myself for not speaking up on the dance floor. I'm such a chicken shit. I watch as he disappears into the throng of people around the bar. I spot Allie and her mystery guy headed toward our table.

"Shew, I'm burning up!" she says, fanning herself with her hand. "Would you mind running over and grabbing me a bottle of Corona?" She bats her eyelashes at her guy and he nods all too eagerly. He's younger than me, probably younger than Allie, with a thin body that probably became a man only a couple of years ago. He heads toward the bar and I shake my head. Her penchant for younger men always puzzles me.

"What's your ten doing here?" she asks.

"He came here looking for me." I try to play it off, to not show how happy I am, but Allie sees through it.

"Well, well, well," she says, her eyes focusing on me before widening. "Is he why you decided to finally break it off with Nick? Did you set this up?" Allie loves a good scandal and as much as I'd love to pretend I knew Jack would show up, I can't lie to her.

"No, I didn't set anything up. I asked him at the bar if he'd come, but he said he doesn't go to clubs anymore. He just appeared out of nowhere."

"He appeared out of your wet dream, Carly," she says. "I watched how he danced with you. And how
you
danced with
him
. You like him." She grins at me. Not a smile, but her sneaky, knowing grin.

"Shut up," I say, in attempt to keep her from grinning at me like that. "He's probably just after a piece of ass."

Do I really believe this? I've been hurt by thinking otherwise a time or two, before Nick and I came to the agreement we had about what we wanted. It was easier to put it out there, to not pretend and just have a good time together. Eventually, the situation got to where most of the fun was Nick's, but still, there was no confusion about what each of us could expect.

"You don't know that," Allie protests. "He could be interested in more." She looks so hopeful, so typically optimistic. “And it looks like you want him, either way.”

I can’t argue with her, not if I’m honest with myself.

Allie's boy and Jack finally make it to the table with our drinks. Jack has my water in one hand and three shots of something dark haphazardly balanced in the other.

"Here ya are," he says, sitting my bottle on the table. He puts the shots down on the table; one for me, one for Allie and one for her friend.

"Oh, I'm not drinking tonight. I drew the short straw, so it’s just the water for me."

"The short straw?" Jack asks.

"We draw straws to see which of us gets to drink when we come here. Whoever gets the short straw has to take care of the other one," I explain.

"I guess that means you got the long straw?" Jack asks Allie.

"You guessed correctly, sir," she grins. She grabs my shot, downs it with a wince and then chases it with half of the Corona. We both watch her and I shake my head.

"Oh, Jack, this is Allie the alcky. Allie, this is Jack." I gesture back and forth between them.