Chapter 9
Lucy
Ilook at my phone for third time in the past ten minutes. After the look we shared, and her subsequent disappearance, I needed to talk to Aria. But every time I have texted her, it has gone unread and unreplied.
Lucy: hey just wanted to say hi and it was good to see you last night
Lucy: do you maybe wanna hang out this weekend? we could do whatever
2:37pm
Lucy: hey just thinking about you! :) just wanted to make sure you made it home safe last night
7:12pm
Lucy: Aria, just let me know ur ok? a little worried
The last text message was sent less than an hour ago, but I can’t help the twisting feeling in my stomach. I don’t know why, but it feels like something is wrong. So here I am, pacing my apartment, trying to talk myself out of trying to find her.
That would be crazy, I scold myself, and more than a little stalkerish.
I make another lap, refusing to look at my phone again.
But what if she’s hurt? my mind attempts to rationalize. You know better than to ignore your gut feelings.
This, I feel, is a poor excuse to stalk a woman without proof. As my brain prepares its next argument, I feel the buzz of my phone against my hip. I snatch it up and rush to open the text. Thank the goddess, it’s from Aria.
8:08pm
Aria: Sory, its been a long dayy.m Ditn mean to worry youuu. I am all goofd here. Ttyl x
That…did not make me feel better at all.
I push the call button and tap my foot as it rings, my fingers drumming on the table by my front door.
I have gotten used to Aria’s texts being full of proper punctuation and capitalization; I have poked fun at her for it a time or two.
This text is not right. Finally, the call is answered.
Loud music assaults my eardrums and I try to listen for Aria’s voice.
“Hello?” I call out. “Hello? Aria, are you there?”
“I’m heeeere,” her slurred voice answers before she giggles. “What’s up?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, that’s my question. What’s up? Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m at a barrrrr!” she yells excitedly, and I hear the phone being fumbled before she’s back. “I feel so much better now,” she hums.
“I bet you are at a bar,” I say, and wince at the patronizing tone of my voice. “Which bar is it, Cherry?”
Cherry. I’d only ever called her that in my head, but it feels natural.
“I don’ remember,” she murmurs and my worry increases several notches. “It’s close to the hotel, though, which is nice.”
“What hotel is that?” The confusion and worry is only getting worse. Why are you staying in a hotel, Cherry?
“The Orchard Suites,” she says, distractedly. “It’s nice and not too expensive which is perrrrrrfect.” She giggles again and seems to forget I’m on the phone.
“Okay,” I mutter, already searching the internet. The closest bar to that hotel seems to fit the vibe I hear through the phone. “Okay,” I repeat. “I’m going to come and get you, Cherry. Just hang in there, okay?” She doesn’t answer and the call drops.
I swear, then grab my keys.
***
The Aurora Lounge is pulsing with a dark, erotic beat. Another time, I would love to stay and dance the night away. Tonight, however, I am on a mission.
My eyes scan the room, finally spotting the telltale cherry red hair.
I make my way over, thankful it’s a Sunday night and not too packed, and see Aria slumped over the bar.
I start to panic before I see her hand playing with the straw on her drink.
Her head is turned away from me, allowing me to take her in before she sees me.
Her jeans are riding low, showing off the tantalizing skin just above the curve of her ass.
The t-shirt she is wearing looks rumpled and out of place, like she has been pulling at it.
Her hair is in her signature bun, but it is loose and messy like she has tried one too many times to run her hand through her hair and failed.
This is the first time I have seen her look anything but put together and, despite my worry, I can’t help but greedily drink in this vulnerability that she usually keeps securely guarded.
I walk up and tap her shoulder, sitting in the low-backed stool next to her. Her response is slow and sluggish, but she turns and blinks glassy eyes up at me, recognition lighting them after a moment.
“Hey, Cherry,” I say softly, smiling down at her. Her answering smile makes my heart clench.
“Hi, Lucy,” she says, a bit too slowly. “You look just like a princess.” She says the last part softly, and I doubt it was supposed to come out of her mouth, but I preen at the praise anyway.
“Thank you, lovely girl. Let’s get you out of here, yeah?
” She nods her head then sets it back on her arms, gazing up at me.
I flag down the bartender and she walks over, sharp eyes taking in my hand on Aria’s shoulder.
I can’t help but nod approvingly to myself, glad that she is looking out for her patrons.
I casually remove my hand from Aria’s shoulder, but quickly replace it when she whines in protest.
“Excuse me,” I address the bartender. “I’m here to help my friend get home. Does she have an open tab?”
The bartender – Alice, her name tag says – glances from Aria to me and nods cautiously. “She does. I can ring her out, but I am going to need her to be sober enough to confirm she knows you before I let her leave with you.”
“No problem,” I say, turning back to my Cherry. “Hey, can you sit up for me?” I pat her shoulder and, though she makes noises of complaint, she sits up, holding her head.
“Hey, sweetie,” Alice addresses her, tone softening into something far friendlier. “Do you know this woman?”
“Mhm, that’s Lucy,” Aria nods, then continues, “She was dating my boyfriend, but it’s okay because she didn’t know and she’s not anymore. She’s really pretty too.” She finishes this thought, then starts giggling again.
I feel my face heating up and I sigh deeply, eyes scrunched closed, before attempting to make eye contact with Alice again, who is sharing Aria’s amusement.
“Can you confirm?” she asks, humor shining in her eyes.
“Yeah, that’s,” I exhale, my hands going to my burning cheeks, “that is correct.” Before Alice can continue, I interrupt and change the topic. “Can I cover her tab?”
Aria is, apparently, awake enough to argue.
“No,” she says, the word coming out as more of a whine. “It’s my problem, not yours.”
“Yes, but I did say I would get the tab next time, didn’t I?” I remind her, and she scowls at me.
“This doesn’t count,” she mutters petulantly.
“Great.” My breezy answer is punctuated by the smooth motion of me handing over my card to a waiting Alice and a sweet smile on my face. “That means I can get it next time too. Perfect.”
“That’s not what I meant!” she says weakly, her pitiful growl interrupted by her head dropping back to the bar top.
I ignore her for the moment, finish paying her tab, and start gathering her things. A quick glance in her purse tells me she has a phone charger and a hotel key card. Anything else can probably wait. My brain turns over possibilities, but all I want is to get her to my apartment.
“You ready, Cherry?” I say, standing and holding out my hand.
She gives a weak glare, obviously not ready to let go of the issue, but takes my hand anyway.
I nearly gasp as tiny jolts of electricity seem to spark at our touch.
I hear a soft inhale from her and know I’m not the only one who feels it.
I wave goodbye to the bartender and bundle Aria into my car to drive us back to my apartment. She’s asleep before we even hit the highway.