Every Rose by Lynetta Halat Page B

ask.
    “Nope, sounds perfect.”
    “K. Until then.” We hold hands for another moment. He picks up my hand again and brushes it with a soft kiss. He turns to go and I want to say something clever and memorable, but I can’t muster anything. When he looks back at me, I manage a little wave.
    With a sigh, I get in my car and fire up the engine. I watch him as he jumps into his Jeep, gives me a final wave, and heads out. I watch his Jeep pull out, thinking even his mode of transportation is sexy. I don’t know too much about cars, but I know it’s an older model Jeep with big tires, dark navy, and chromed out. It fits him even though it’s not what I would expect for him to drive, but Michael is nothing if not unexpected.
    I lay my head on my steering wheel. My eyes puddle up. They are tears of joy. He seems very open to me. I hope I’m reading him right, though; there wasn’t much time for talking.
    I look at the clock on my dash. It’s only nine. That’s too early to go home. I guess I could go to Ginny’s and hang out. Then, at least I wouldn’t be telling a complete lie to my mom. I put my car in gear and make it out on the highway.
    I replay the entire night again. I smile. I think it was a success despite having ended earlier than I’d hoped. I can’t believe how unsure of myself I am around him. The stakes are just so high, though; and I don’t want to loose him again. I don’t think I could bear it.
    I put my turn signal on and merge with the traffic flow. I’m glad I know these roads so well as I am completely consumed with thoughts of him. I guess I need to decide where it is I am actually going: home or Ginny’s?
    He has four jobs and school? He seems consumed much like me. Why is working so hard? Is the temptation of his former life that strong that he needs to work like a dog? Is he trying to bury himself in work like I’ve buried myself in school? What or who is he running from?
    I park my car and look up at the flashing lights before me. I laugh at myself. How did I know I would end up here? I never had any intention of going home or going to Ginny’s, did I? I bite my lip. Should I go in? I’ve never been in a casino before. Ugh! If I don’t go in, I’m afraid I will lose whatever momentum we’ve established this night. I think, too, that he would see this as a sign of my pursuit. Will he be flattered or repelled? Only one way to find out.
    Chapter Thirteen
    Rolling the Dice
    The noise and the smoke are the first things I notice about the casino. There are flashing lights everywhere. Some people look ecstatic. Others look downtrodden. It’s a stark dichotomy. I make my way to the marquee, looking for directions to the club that Michael’s playing in. I think I can find my way there after studying the map for a few minutes. I walk towards the escalator, flashing my ID as I pass the security guard. I hope I look acceptable to enter the club. I went to a couple of clubs while I was in high school with him , but that was so long ago.
    I find the club. It sounds like there are lots of people and the music is very loud. Quite different from Mona’s. 
    Michael’s band is playing a Southern Rock classic. It’s one of my favorites. Maybe, I think, all the songs he’s playing are becoming my favorites because I love to hear him play so much. I giggle at myself.
    I stand back for a few moments and take in the crowd. Not surprisingly, they are really enjoying the band. The dance floor is pretty packed, but I’m able to gain an unobstructed view of the stage where I can watch Michael for a few unbeknownst minutes. His stage presence is completely different from his unplugged performance at Mona’s. His dark hair is damp with sweat, which makes me realize he’s really been working the crowd. As if to provide me with evidence of my guess, I watch him stride to the edge of the stage and lean into the crowd punctuating each beat with a shake of his head. He pull s back up, stretching his powerful