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After leaving Dallas, I consoled myself with the fact that she was still intact somewhere, like a dragonfly in amber—the earnest girl with a disarming smile who’d bleed because that’s what we’re meant todo.
But she’s not, and before I can process the churning in my gut at that realization, the woman on stage starts tosing.
Annie always had the kind of voice you wanted to listen to all day. This is lower, sultrier. It’s an invitation and a promise, and it wraps around my spine, dragsdown.
Annie Jamieson just grabbed my cock in the middle of thisbar.
My confusion’s gone, squashed by something moredeliberate.
The fact that she’s here, that she’s changed, that she can still turn me on without even touching me, pisses meoff.
Beck hollers, and I ignore him, cutting through the half-drunk crowd tobackstage.
“Wasn’t sure you were coming.” The woman who runs open mic night looks at her list. “You want in afterher?”
I glance at Annie. “Nextone.”
I stalk to the edge of the stage. At this new angle, I can see Annie swaying with her own music, the spell she's weaving on the faces of thecrowd.
Tightness works through my gut. We’re going to talk about this right the fucknow.
How she’s here. Why she’shere.
Why the fact that she’s here is affecting me so goddamnmuch.
My gaze lands on the small silver handbag sitting on an unused speaker. It’s familiar, and I reach forit.
When Annie comes off stage, beaming and sweating from the spotlight, her attention goes to the speaker. “Where’smy—”
I hold up the bag, and her eyes flash. When she swipes for the bag, it falls between us, the contents spillingout.
“What are you doing here?” she demands as we both drop to the ground. She reaches for her phone, her face a breath away frommine.
“Leo’s is my place. I should be asking you the same thing.” I retrieve one of the cards and hold it up in the half light. “It almost looks like you. This you. Whoever sheis.”
I grab her bag and straighten. She rises too, her gaze lingering on the purse in my hands as if I might run away withit.
“What would your dad say if he could see you like this?” Ipress.
Annie’s close enough I see her breasts heaving under her low-cut top. “I don’tcare.”
I’m not even mad at her. I’m mad at me, at the way she affects me still, at the fact that I left her for my dreams but also so the sweet, smart girl I craved like a drug could grow up without myinfluence.
But she’s not here. That girl isgone.
“Besides,” she goes on, “he doesn’t know everything that happens in theworld.”
A single piece in a twisted puzzle clicks into place. “He doesn’t know you’rehere.”
There’s a hint of panic in those eyes, a vulnerability I catalogue,memorize.
I feel the power shift between us, like I’m suddenly gaining the upperhand.
“Where does he think you are?” Iask.
She looks like she wants to deny me, but there’s no point lying. I can findout.
“Columbia.”
