The Girl in the Painting

Maybe it’s the alcohol.

Maybe it’s the song.

I don’t know.

But I dance. By myself. In the middle of the club.

Camila sings about never being the same, and the lyrics glide over my skin and leave goose bumps in their wake.

I’m not the same. Haven’t been the same.

Not since Ansel Bray barreled into my life.

I raise my hands in the air and I look up at the ceiling, and I let my head fall back and my eyes close as my body moves to the music.

It feels good.

I feel good. Despite all the shit that’s going down inside my head and inside my heart, I just feel good for once. A smile crests my lips and I open my eyes, but in an instant, a mere second, the room stops.

Just…stops.

The music.

The people dancing around me.

My heart.

Ansel is here. In a roped-off VIP section, and he’s not alone.

A blond woman is sitting right beside him, and she’s laughing and lifting a glass to her lips and taking a drink. He leans his head back against the couch, and the blonde takes it upon herself to get more comfortable. In his lap.

I should look away, but I can’t.

Ansel is in the corner of the room, with another woman in his lap, and all I can do is stand here and watch like some sort of brokenhearted voyeur.

I am bumped from behind, and like someone pushed play, the room comes to life again. I hear the music and the crowd and I feel the throng of dancers around me, but I’m frozen. My eyes still locked on Ansel and the blonde.

“I almost couldn’t find you!” Lily’s voice fills my ears, and I look to my left to find her holding two glasses of champagne in her hands. “Don’t be mad, but Shawn happened to mention that New Rules is here. And Ansel is here too. I think you should go talk to him.”

“I know,” I say, but I can barely get the words out of my mouth.

“How do you know?”

Instead of answering, I move my gaze toward the VIP section.

But this time, instead of the woman just sitting in his lap, I have to witness her lean forward and press her mouth to his.

“What the fuck?” Lily questions, but I can barely hear her over the erratic, pounding rhythm of my heart.

I know I shouldn’t feel angry or jealous or sad.

He has a right to try to move on. And for the entire duration of the time we’d spent together, I had a boyfriend.

I know the nausea that fills my gut is unwarranted, and I know there shouldn’t be tears in my eyes.

But just because I know it doesn’t make it not real.

This moment is so real, so palpable, so in-my-fucking-face, that it’s choking me.

I need to leave.

I need to get out of this club.

Just as I turn on my heels, my eyes lock with brown.

He sees me, and I don’t miss the instant recognition that covers his face.

Shit.

“Excuse me,” I mutter as I push through the crowd. “Please, I need to leave!”

“Indy! Wait!” Lily yells toward me, but I don’t stop.

I can’t stop. And before she can reach me, I’m out of the club and I’m hailing a cab, and I’m gone.

Away from the club. Away from the pain. Away from the man who still holds my heart in his hands.

Ansel

The lips touching my mouth are foreign and unwelcome, and I open my eyes to find that stupid fucking woman in my lap and her plastic lips pressed to mine.

What the fuck?

I yank my face away, but when my eyes glance to the dance floor, to the sea of people in the center of the club, a potent, familiar, breathtaking pair of blue eyes locks with mine.

Indy. Her face is broken, and her eyes look so sad. So fucking sad that I feel my heart break all over again.

In an instant, she goes from standing in the center of the dance floor to pushing through the crowd.

“Indy!” I call out toward her and jump to standing.

The blonde tumbles off of my lap and onto the floor. She gasps and yells profanities at me, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m on my feet and running out of the VIP area and following Indy.

But the club is so packed, and there’re too many fucking people.

“Move! Fucking move!”

I push my way through the dancing fools and the drunken idiots, and it feels like it takes me years just to get to the front of the club. Once I reach the entrance doors, I shove them open and nearly knock the bouncers over, but I don’t even stop to apologize.

My feet pound on the pavement, and I’m frantic. Looking left and right and just anywhere and everywhere to try to find her.

“Indy!” I shout, and the line of people waiting to get inside the club looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind. “Indy!”