Enchanted and Desired (31 page)

Every now and then throughout the evening I get that same feeling I had in the parking lot, like someone is watching me. I scan the bar several times, but I don’t see anyone looking at me, or anyone that looks out of place. I tell myself it must be my crazy hormones and my overactive imagination playing tricks on me.

About an hour before closing, the party is still in full swing and I’m dead on my feet serving drink after drink, so I’m in no mood for the douchebag that pulls up a stool in front of where I’m serving. “Hey baby. Can I buy you a drink?” Seriously?

“No thanks. I’m working. What can I get for you?”

“A beer, and your phone number.” Everything about him makes my skin crawl.

I open a bottle of beer and place it down in front of him. “Here’s your beer.”

“You forgot your phone number.”

“No I didn’t. I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.”

He’s obviously had plenty to drink before sitting down to the beer I’ve just served him.

“What’s your problem baby? You frigid? Need a guy like me to show you how to have a good time?”

I turn to walk away but he rears up over the bar and grabs my arm.

“Let go of me.”

“Don’t be so uptight. No one likes a frigid girl.” I am frozen to the spot, déjà vu of so many similar moments with Gavin flashing in my head. I would normally rip a guy like this to shreds, but that was the old me. I’m a complete wreck, emotionally and physically drained, and I panic. I start frantically searching the bar, as if by magic my knight in shining armor will appear…my Simon. Before I know what’s happening Hank is ripping the guys arm off me, most likely breaking it in the process.

“Are you okay sweetheart? Are you hurt?” I throw myself at him, clinging to him for dear life, my whole body shaking from the shock of what just happened.

“Thank you so much.” I begin sobbing; standing behind the bar with everyone staring at me.

Hank scoops me up into his arms and lifts me out into the hall and away from prying eyes. My hands are wrapped around his neck, my cheek burrowed into his chest, the tears flowing freely down my face. “Simon…I just want Simon.”

Hank kisses the top of my head. “I know sweetheart. I know.” He places me on the couch in his office. “Stay here. I need to go and deal with that schmuck.”

I let my muscles relax, slumping down further into the sofa cushions, emotionally exhausted by the events that have just transpired. I try to shut it all out; to flip the switch and let myself become numb, but it doesn’t work. Not anymore.
He’s
always in my thoughts; the permanent ache in my chest a constant reminder of what I’ve lost.

I can hear the commotion from all the way back here, and when Hank returns, he tells me some guy that no one knows started pounding on the douchebag that grabbed me, shouting and swearing at him. Apparently he won’t be talking or drinking, or trying to intimidate women anytime soon. They had to send for an ambulance because his face was so messed up. My unknown protector left before anyone could get his name, or thank him for standing up for me. I figure he didn’t want to be asked any questions about what happened. An assault charge would be a hell of a price to pay for someone you don’t even know. I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it from Sarah. She says the guy was like Hercules – a demi God, gorgeous, muscled and chivalrous. She makes me laugh when she says her panties literally disintegrated at the sight of him, and then a heavy weight settles on my chest; visions of a perfect God-like body, the most stunningly handsome face I’ve ever seen, and a soul even more beautiful, crowds my thoughts, as I fall apart. I’m so devastated by my own self-inflicted loss that I begin to wail, long, pained, soul-wrenching sobs. Sarah and Hank chalk it up to hormones and a traumatic night, and I don’t tell them any different. To say it out loud right now, would be more than I could bear.

My life is a mess, my heart is broken beyond repair, and the only person in the world that can fix it, the only person that I want to be with more than anything right now – is the one person that hates me. I miss everything about him; his face, his smile, the way he held me close and made everything around us disappear. He made me feel so safe and so loved, but that’s gone now, and I’m completely lost without him.

SIMON

As soon as Brandon told me where she is, I headed back to my apartment, packed a bag and booked the next flight out to Dallas. I have an address and the name of the bar where she works – Joe’s. How fucking original. The flight feels endless, and I’m a bit on edge by the end of it. I’m just so desperate to get to my girl.

I don’t even bother going to my hotel when I arrive, instead opting to drive straight over to her apartment in the rental I picked up at the airport. When I pull into the small town, I just can’t imagine this being somewhere that Jess would choose to live. She’s so sophisticated and refined, and she definitely likes the finer things in life. I would say this place isn’t big enough to hold her attention, but what the fuck do I know? This entire scenario just seems like a work of fiction to me. If someone explained the last six weeks of my life to me, I would swear blind that they made that shit up.

I have no idea what I’m going to find when I come face to face with Jess, or what I’m going to say to her. I was so focused on getting here, on being in the same State as her, I didn’t take the time to work out what I want to say. I can’t exactly just say
Hey Jess. I know you really love me, I’ve come to take you home.

I try her apartment first, but there’s no answer, so I quickly drive all of two blocks to the bar, but as I pull up, I’m frozen to the spot when I see her getting out of a car in the parking lot. My heart lurches up into my throat, constricting my air supply. She looks fucking breath-taking. She’s too far away to see me, but I know for certain that it’s her; I could spot her in a crowd of thousands. I can’t make my hands move to open the door handle, so I just take a moment to watch her.

She turns around, scanning the lot as if she can
feel
my eyes on her. It sends a shiver down my spine, knowing that I still have some effect on her, even if
she
doesn’t know it. When she finally makes her way inside, I feel bereft. Just the sight of her was enough to fill at least some of the void that I’ve been living with for the past month.

I’ve been staring over at the door now for half an hour at least. I can’t seem to make myself get out the goddamn car. Fucking pussy. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I check the display I see that it’s a message from Brandon.

Brandon: Found her yet?

Me: Yes and no. Outside the bar.

Brandon: She at work?

Me: Yeah. Saw her go in. Been sitting outside for 30 mins. Being a pussy.

Brandon: Grow a pair and go get her.

Me: Fuck off

Brandon: I’m wounded

Me: Maybe I should write her love letters for days and see if that works?

Brandon: Fuck off

Me: Later Jackass. I’ll keep you posted.

He’s so fucking annoying sometimes, especially when he’s right. I get out of the car and make my way over to the entrance. When I pull back the door, I’m greeted with a cacophony of voices. The place is packed, with what seems to be football fans. Jess is behind the bar, working endlessly, with a swarm of customers around her end of the bar.

I decide to find a spot in the corner where I know she won’t see me, but where I can just watch her for a while, until she takes a break, or it calms down a bit. That doesn’t happen, and I find myself sitting for hours, but time means nothing to me. I could watch her 24/7 and never get tired of seeing the way her body moves, and her smile, God, her smile fucking kills me. She looks tired though, and she doesn’t have the same vibrancy that oozed from every pour. I can tell, from 100ft away, she’s not the same girl I fell in love with.

At regular intervals throughout the night, she scans the room. I’m not sure if she’s looking for someone, but I like to think she can feel my presence. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but we used to be able to sense each other in a room full of people. It didn’t matter where she was in my club, even at full capacity I still knew where she was. She’s like a magnet that I’m inexplicably drawn to, with a force that I just can’t fight against. And here’s the thing – I don’t want to fight it. I just want her to remember it. Remember how it feels between us; when I whisper in her ear, when I touch her; the way I make her body shake with an intensity and euphoria that only I can give her.

I’m quickly distracted from my reverie when I see one of the guys sitting at the bar obviously trying to flirt with her. My fists ball at my sides. I know I need to calm the fuck down, but I HATE the idea of anyone being close to her, when I can’t be. And then it happens…he almost throws himself over the counter to grab at her when she tries to walk away.

All I can hear is a buzzing in my ears as my blood begins to boil. A red mist of pure rage descending on me, clouding my vision. Everything and everyone around me becomes insignificant. They are mere obstacles in the way of me getting to Jess. Adrenaline courses through me, readying my muscles for a fight. I start shoving people out the way, pushing through the crowd…and then I stop. A big guy, probably about 15 years older than me storms out and appears beside Jess behind the bar. He throws the asshole to the ground, and she turns into him immediately, burying her face in his chest. He holds her with a ferocity and a tenderness that I recognize well. I watch, helpless and broken as he scoops her up, her arms wrapping around his neck, her face seeking comfort against his shoulder as he carries her out of the bar, and away from me.

She’s moved on. She’s
fucking
moved on.

She doesn’t need me to rescue her. She doesn’t need me at all.

She really did leave because she wasn’t in love with me.

I feel like I’ve been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. I had a glimmer of hope when I stepped in here tonight. A small sliver of a chance at the future I so badly wanted with her. And now it’s gone. I see the guy that practically assaulted Jess stumbling to his feet, and I set my sights on him - the target for all my rage, all my disappointment, all my heartbreak. I quickly make my way to where he’s hanging onto the bar, and as my fist connects with his face, I feel a marginal amount of relief wash over me. I
need
this, and he
needs
to pay for laying a finger on Jess.

“What the fuck man?”

“Don’t you ever fucking look in her direction again, understand?”

“Fuck you. It’s none of your goddamn business. Who the fuck is she to you? Some cock tease, piece of ass.”

“Say goodbye to eating solid food, you fucking piece of shit. You don’t deserve to breathe the same fucking air as her.” I start beating him so hard my knuckles are bleeding.

“What. Is. She. To. Me?” I spit out between blows.

“She’s my fucking world. My fucking everything.”

No one even attempts to pull me off of this guy. Obviously Jess is held in high regard already. The guys that surround me as I continually lay into this pathetic excuse for a man, are chanting and shouting for me to hit him harder, hit him again, to show him what happens when you mess with a lady in this town. I don’t stop until I hear his nose crack underneath my knuckles. I back off, leaving him cowering like the little pussy that he is. His face is unrecognizable, his eyes black and blue, covered in blood and already swollen shut. His nose is plastered across his face, and his lips are bleeding. I stare down at my hands, cut and bleeding from my own brutality. I can’t fucking breathe. I stagger through the cheering crowd and out into the parking lot, bending over with my hands on my thighs, struggling to pull in a lung full of air. What the fuck just happened?

I hold it together just long enough to get over to my car and slump into the driver’s seat. I don’t know how long I sit in silence, thinking about Jess, so close, and yet further away than ever. I start slamming my hands against the steering wheel, my frustration nowhere near exorcised by the beating I just gave Joe fucking Handsy back there.

I hang my head in defeat. “
Come ho potuto essere così fottutamente delirante? Fanculo! Perchè Jess, perché lui? Perché non ero abbastanza?
[How could I be so fucking delusional? Fuck! Why Jess, why him? Why wasn't I good enough?]
I love you more than he ever could.”