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his past, but he’s a good guy. Even with all the playing he does.

“Hey, man. Your girl’s here.”

My head swings to where he’s looking outside.

Cassandra’s outside, arguing with the guy from the party. Something inside me urges me to move. To go out there and protect her, but I fight it. It’s not my battle.

“Not my girl, man,” is all I say to Jack as the waitress brings us our food.

I keep my eye on them as we eat, noticing the moment she walks away and gets in a car with a group of people.

My chest doesn’t feel lighter until I see her leave.

“That looked intense,” Jack says.

The guy’s still standing outside, his fists clenched, looking pissed.

I shrug, not making a comment.

We finish eating, paying the bill, and make our way to the bar. After a quick five-minute drive, we walk through the door, me with big black X’s on the back of my hand, Jack hands me his keys.

“I’ll let you know if I end up going home with someone else.”

I nod, taking in the surrounding scene.

I’ve been to posh clubs in New York and Chicago. The ones with VIP areas overflowing with champagne and liquor. Bass bumping to the latest rap songs as the girls dance like strippers with barely-there clothing.

Saddle Up Saloon couldn’t be further from that. Instead, it’s a rustic-looking bar with neon signs peppered throughout. There are bars on either side and a large dance floor in the middle, surrounded by a half wall just wide enough to set your drinks on. There are a couple of pool tables in the corner and a large mechanical bull in another with a chick wearing jean shorts and a plaid button-up tied at her stomach holding on like she’s riding for her life.

Instead of rap music, country blares from the speakers as both men and women are on the floor stepping in sync to a dance they all know.

There are a couple of girls wearing short dresses meant for the clubs I’m used to, but most of them are wearing different versions of the girl on the bull’s outfit, all with cowgirl boots adorning their feet. I haven’t seen one pair of heels yet.

“Come on, man, stop staring at the grits and let’s get a drink,” Jack says, jostling my shoulder.

“Grits? Like the food?” I reply, thinking of the food Jack forced me to try when I first got here.

It wasn’t bad per se, but it was not something I would willingly order on my own.

“Yeah. Girls raised in the south. It’s how we breed them down here. They’re sexy as fuck, but cross one and next thing you know, your car’s keyed. Mine can take it, but your pretty ride might not.”

I push his shoulder. “Shut up, man.”

Getting a soda for me and a whiskey for him, we make our way to the edge of the dance floor. A different song comes on and my eyes are drawn to the couples on the floor. They dance with each other around the edge of the dance floor, all once again making the same steps. All except one couple.

Cassandra.

I think I could recognize her gorgeous head of hair anywhere now.

She’s in the arms of a much older man; he twirls her around the dance floor. Doing complicated steps I couldn’t even begin to do.

As they fly by us, I hear her laughter, bringing a smile to my face.

She looks like she’s having the time of her life.

“You gonna let that man handle your girl like that?” Jack jokes.

I smile, deciding then and there. This is the third time I’ve seen her since last night. I’m taking it as a sign. I’m going to get her phone number tonight.

Cassandra

This isn’t how I wanted my day to go.

I woke up this morning thinking about Xavier.

Scratch that, I dreamt of Xavier and his large hands all over me amongst other parts of his body.

It left me feeling this high I haven’t felt in a really long fucking time when I woke up. I was on cloud nine, thinking about how I could run into him again.

Then I checked my phone and deflated.

Eleven messages, all from Jared.

I ignored them all and went about my day, excited to be going to my favorite country bar tonight, but then he found me at dinner.

The look on his face when I told him I needed space still haunts me.

“I need you, Cassi,” Jared pleads.

My heart hurt for him. He’s still so lost while I’m moving on. I don’t know how to help him.

First thing I did when I got to Saddle Up was find Virgil. He always brightens my day.

“You ready?” he asks as he leads me to the dance floor.

“Never been more ready. Are you? You’re not getting any younger,” I tease.

“I still got moves, young lady. Don’t you worry about that.”

Next thing I know, we’re moving. I love dancing with Virgil. I let go of everything and let him lead. He makes me feel as if I’m floating on air as he moves me around the dance floor, adding spins, twisting me to his will.

I can’t help but laugh as we dance.

I love when his face lights up. He enjoys dancing as much as I enjoy dancing with him.

At the end of the song, we’re both out of breath. He kisses my hand, going back to his spot, waiting for the next girl who wants to dance. And there’s never a shortage.

I know I’ll be back in that line before the end of the night.

Making my way back to Mara, I smile as she hands me water.

“Thanks,” I breathe out before taking a long drink.

I’m not old enough to drink, but even if I was, I don’t drink anymore.

Never since that night.

Shaking my demons away, I smile as Mara drones on about some guy she spotted already.

“You’re such a hussy.” I smile.

“Hey, I’m just playing the game. Who says the guys get to be the only players?”

“Touché.”

“Well, hello there, girlfriend,” he

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