145
JOHNNY
Ishould be doing a million other things than what I’m doing right now, but here I am, avoiding all of them and doing this instead.
Franklin gave me an opportunity to redeem myself, so that’s what I’m going to do.
Only, a short while into my detective work, I spot her through a window, laughing and smiling and having fun.
I don’t know why I was able to zero in on her in a room full of people, and I sure as shit couldn’t help the magnetic pull she has on me, dragging me into that packed bar.
I claim a seat near the door, ordering a whiskey neat and keeping my distance from her in case I’m spotted. I just have to make sure she’s okay, that she truly is having a good time, that she’s safe.
She downs drink after drink, enough that I grow worried. Something feels off, like she’s masking some emotion with the endless shots.
I can’t leave, not yet, not until I know for sure.
The girl with bright blonde hair grabs her arm and tugs her onto the pool table.
I cringe when her light-lilac shirt slides up a little, exposing part of her side. Something primal kicks in and nearly has me jumping from my seat to toss my denim jacket around her and shield her from all of the prying eyes.
But the fabric goes down and I stay put, not making a scene in front of everyone.
If she wants to dance, she can dance.
I try not to be another one of the many looking her way, but each time she sways to the edge of the table, I find myself inching closer in her direction.
I pay my bill and down the rest of my drink, somehow sensing the finale coming soon. I shouldn’t intrude. I should let her carry on and do what she wants. But something inside of me won’t allow me to stand back and watch it unfold.
She does exactly what I think she’s going to do—she falls, and thankfully, I time everything just right to catch her in my arms.
I bring her to her feet and the blonde girl shoves me.
“Get the fuck off her,” she spits.
I calm myself, not wanting to react negatively to her friend. I’m sure this comes across like I’m some random weirdo trying to cop a feel, when in reality, I’m desperately working to make sure thatdoesn’thappen.
“I’m trying to help.” I extend my hands to show them that I’m not a threat. “Why’d you let her get this drunk?”
The blonde grabs her from my arms and moves her quickly—too quickly. “Do you know this guy?”
I move on instinct, catching her when she’s about to fall again. It takes everything I have to not scoop her up and take her away from here immediately.
“What’s her name then, if you know her so well?” Her friend tries to break her away from me again.
After all this time, all that we’ve been through, I still don’t know her fucking name. How is that even possible?
"Johnny." Her voice is just a whisper. Her hand cups my cheek, and I'm reminded of a few nights ago when she did the same thing moments prior to me passing out in a pain-induced stupor.
I stare into her ocean blue eyes, eager for her to know I’m here. “It’s me.”
The friend blurts something out, but I don’t hear her, not when I’m focused on the helpless creature in my arms.
“I think she’s had enough for tonight.” I hold onto her so she doesn’t fall. “Can you stand?”
“I’m not already?”
I help her stand, giving her my arm to stabilize her. I ignore the shock of electricity coursing through my fingers as they graze across her bare skin.