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I shrug. “Maybe go chat with him?”
“No way. He needs to come to me. I’m done giving in to guys so easily.” Kayla chugs the remainder of her drink as someone begins to sing, “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” by Def Leppard.
“I don’t blame you. You know what, Kayla? Screw these guys! Let’s get our asses on the bar and have some fun.”
I turn to my untouched vodka soda. Taking a deep breath, I grab it and use the tiny straw to drink as much as I can.
A stunned Kayla blinks several times at me. “What?” She yells. “It’s so loud, but I could’ve sworn you said let’s get on the bar?”
I finish off the drink before sliding the empty glass to the other side of the bar. I climb on the top of the stool and wave my hand up for Kayla.
She takes my hand and we both hop on the bar. I’m swaying my hips awkwardly as people hoot and holler from below us. Kayla’s hands make her way up and down her body, and I’d swear she’s a coyote from the movieCoyote Uglywith how well she’s dancing.
She makes her way closer to me, starting to grind on me as the guy sings, “I’m hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet, yeah.”
We grab hands in the air and both start lowering ourselves to the bar. I allow my hips and butt to be the first to come back up. I watch as Kayla releases my hands and turns around to keep dancing and walking along the bar. I follow her lead and do the same.
Images start to blur around me, and I feel hands grabbing at my bare ankles right above my wedges. I don’t let them stop me.I feel good. Eyes closed, I allow my hips to shake from side to side. My arms flail above me, and I let my hands slowly make their way through my hair, trying to act sexy like Kayla.
“Over here, baby!” A man hollers above the music. My eyes open to find a much older man. His hand takes hold of my ankle as he tries to pull me down to his level.
“Back off,” I yell down to him, trying to escape his grasp. Taking a step further, my ankle is set free, and I lose my balance on the skinny bar. My entire backside meets the sticky bar floor.
“Owwww,” I yell out, prying open my eyes to a bunch of blurry faces.
“Autumn . . .” I hear Kayla ask me if I’m okay, but I can’t make out which face is hers above me. My whole body hurts and my head throbs. My right foot swells with pain.
“Everyone, please step aside,” says a familiar voice that snaps me back to reality. The same deep voice continues to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll get her to the hospital.”
A woman screams, “There’s blood on the floor!”
Blood? From where? Who’s bleeding? Me?I touch my head and feel moisture. Slowly bringing my hand down to see it, my hand refuses to steady. My vision remans blurry.
A moment later, my whole body seems to be moving too, almost as though I’m flying.Am I dying?I’m not ready to die when I’ve just been slightly elevating from the rock bottom of my life. Wait—nope, now I feel something different. Feels like I’m flying in a good way, not a dying way. Butterflies fill my stomach. Goosebumps form on my arms. That can only mean one thing . . . Zayn must be carrying me. I mean seriously, could this get any more embarrassing?
As I continue to gain awareness, I manage to scream, “Put me down!” right as we reach the door to the parking lot. “Zayn, this is absolutely ridiculous!” I try to squirm out of his hold. I continue to try a few more times but to no avail. He gets annoyed with my unsuccessful attempts and lowers me from his shoulder to his chest. He holds me like his new bride, as if we’re about to enter a honeymoon suite. I guess it really can get more embarrassing.
My head feels as though someone is pounding on it with a hammer. I open my eyes to check if my vision is any better, but I try not to look directly at Zayn, so I look around at the parking lot instead. I can see that there are cars, but they’re more like colorful lumps in a row. They aren’t all just lumps though. I swear I recognize his old, beat-up Ford truck.
He fumbles to get his key out of his back pocket while still managing to carry me. Finally getting the key, he opens the passenger door and sets me down on the seat. He pauses for a moment. My vision improves enough to let me stare into those delicious, dark chocolate eyes of his. Everything around us remains a blur, but now I’m not sure if it’s just from my fall. My heart beats so loudly it sounds as though someone is playing the drums in the backseat. It could be my head pounding though, too. Yeah, let’s go with that.
“Uh, sorry, excuse me . . .” he says reaching underneath me to lower the seat. My body jolts back. His hand grazes my leg, and I feel like I’m on fire. I’m now lying down in the seat and feeling a sense of deja vu to losing my virginity in this very truck. I know most people typically regret their first time, but mine was unregrettable—wait,is that even a word? I don’t think so. The pounding in my head brings me back to the present.
My eyes make his way to his lips like a magnet, and I can’t help but wonder what he tastes like now. He notices my stare. I panic and interrupt our moment by saying, “You know, I just got divorced.”What the hell, Autumn? Really?
“Autumn, your head is bleeding from a terrible fall back there at the bar. All I’m gonna do is make sure you’re okay. I’m taking you to the hospital now. Nothing else.”
I almost laugh, but my head throbs in agreement with him.
“Okay,” I say, “well, thank you for making sure I’m fine. You really don’t have to worry about me though, Zayn.”
His eyebrows raise, and he lets out a sigh. I swear I hear him whisper, “I never stopped.”
“Oh, honey! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” my mom asks. “Your dad was just here a bit ago, but since you were sleeping, he went over to the house to let Max out.
“I’m okay,” I answer quickly before adding, “My brain doesn’t feel so foggy anymore, but I’m still tired.”
“What happened? The nurses told me you were dancing on a bar. That doesn’t sound like you,” Mom says.
