Falling In Love With You

Chapter 12

Sera

My heart wasn't just beating; it was thundering, a frantic rhythm that made the bass from the speakers feel like a dull thud in comparison. I could feel the heat of her—not just the ambient temperature of the crowded bar, but the actual, physical warmth of her skin. She was so close that if I leaned forward an inch, our chests would touch.

Careful, Cupcake.

The way she said it—the gravel in her voice, the way her eyes darkened as they dipped to my mouth—it made my knees feel like they were made of water. I hated it. I hated the power she had to make me feel unanchored with just a few words and a look.

"Believe me?" I challenged, my voice breathier than I wanted it to be. I forced myself to stand my ground, refusing to be the first one to blink. "You think you’re so observant, don't you? You think you’ve got me figured out because of what I wear or where I work."

Kayla didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She just kept that maddening, lopsided smirk on her face, her thumb hooked into the pocket of her jeans. "I don't need to figure you out, Sera. You’re the easiest read in the room. You’re the girl who does everything right and wonders why she feels so empty. So you come down here, hoping some of the 'grit' will rub off on you."

The truth of it hit me like a physical blow. It was too sharp, too accurate for someone who didn't even know my last name.

"You don't know anything about me," I hissed, leaning in closer. I could see a small, faint scar near her temple. I could see the way her pulse was jumping in the hollow of her throat. For all her bravado, she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted me to think. "You’re just a bully with a needle and an ego. You hide behind that 'tough' act because it's easier than actually being a person."

The smirk flickered. For a split second, the mask of cool indifference slipped, and I saw something raw and dark flash in her amber eyes. It was a glimpse of the "Kayla" behind the "K"—the one who lived in the shadows not by choice, but because she didn't know how to exist in the light.

"Is that right?" she asked, her voice dropping to a dangerous, silky whisper. She straightened up, closing the remaining distance until her shoulder brushed mine. "You want to see 'the person,' Sera? Or are you just looking for a story to tell your high-society friends about the scary tattoo girl you met at a dive bar?"

"I don't care about stories," I said, my voice trembling. "And I'm not scared of you."

"Liar," she breathed.

She lingered there for a second too long, her gaze burning into mine, before she suddenly stepped back. The loss of her heat was like a cold drenching.

"Enjoy your drink, Princess," she said, her voice regaining its mocking edge. "Try not to get any 'grit' on your expensive top. It’d be a shame to ruin the costume."

She turned and walked back toward the tall man she was with, leaving me standing at the bar with my head spinning and my blood on fire.

"Holy... Sera," Joanna whispered, leaning into my side. "I think the air just evaporated in here. What the hell was that?"

I couldn't answer. I reached for my glass and took a swallow of the ginger-and-bourbon mix, but I couldn't even taste it. All I could feel was the ghost of her shoulder against mine and the way she’d said my name.

I looked over my shoulder. Kayla was laughing at something her friend said, a genuine, easy smile on her face that I hadn't seen before. She looked happy. She looked free.

And for the first time in my life, I realized that the "Classy Girl" everyone admired was the most miserable person in the room.