If I Had A Heart

Chapter 10

The steam rising from her black coffee filled her nostrils as Regine snuggled into the couch early the next morning, a thick fleece blanket draped over her legs and one of her old horror novels resting on her lap as she gripped her favorite mug, trying to focus on the words. She had been reading the same sentence over and over again, struggling to keep her mind on anything other than the night before, a feat she was quickly realizing to be entirely impossible. Every time her eyes roamed over the printed words on the page, she was instantaneously taken back to the feeling of David's lips on her own, her back pressed flush against the wall, losing all concentration in a matter of seconds. She was almost positive her cheeks were permanently stained pink for the rest of eternity, lips now dry and cracked after tracing her fingertips along the skin countless times without even thinking, trying to relive those fleeting moments in the Pink Room while it was still fresh in her mind.

The apartment had been quiet for hours, leaving Regine alone with her anxious butterflies until she felt her entire body jump forward at the sound of the shower coming to life, signifying Jane's awakening.

Chewing on her nail, Regine stifled a yawn as it dawned on her that she had been up all night, ruminating and blushing over David for hours. After he had left her so suddenly at the club, alone and confused and craving his touch that felt like scorching fire on her skin, she had completely forgotten to breathe as she stood there staring at the door he had closed so softly behind him. Leaning against the same wall they had been passionately making out against, Regine placed a hand over her heart in hopes of steadying her frantic heartbeat. She couldn't bring herself to leave the room right away, the thought of facing an eager customer that wasn't her frost blond bad boy almost making her want to vomit. After what had just transpired between her and David in the dark, Regine knew she would be unable to plaster a fake smile on her face that night, greeting one of her lonely, middle-aged regulars with the same false interest she would try to invoke within herself on any other normal shift. It was in that moment she was hit with a surreal realization, her breathing even more ragged as she groaned in frustration and defeat, her head banging against the stiff wall behind her with unsympathetic severity.

David had not only just taken possession of her body with his commanding last words merely seconds before, but of her heart as well.

She was his.

As much as Regine wished she could deny it, she could feel his hold on her all the way down to the depths of her entire being. The way she walked, danced – hell, even the way she breathed – everything revolved around him. Everyone at the club seemed to know it already, yet she was either just too dumb or blind to see it earlier. How did he do that? Weave himself seamlessly into her life so tightly that she didn't even notice his hold on her until it was too late. He didn't have to force her to stop dancing for other men because now, after everything he'd done and said to get her wrapped around his finger, she didn't want to dance for anyone else. Only him. Always for him.

Regine could not believe she was feeling so fanatical over a guy after a single kiss but she could not seem to shake the thoughts of him from her mind, just like she couldn't wash his musky scent out of her hair, although she barely seemed to mind that part very much.

With a heavy heart and preoccupied mind, she did make her way to the main floor eventually, however her tips were abysmal due to her lack of effort and uncontrollable flinching whenever another man would brush a hand over her shoulder or grab her hip without permission. She was not theirs to touch. She knew that now. Luckily, the club was so packed that Jenna didn't have time to notice Regine's dazed behavior, saving her from yet another scolding for the second time that night.

It would have been a flat out lie to say that she wasn't disheartened when he was not there waiting for her in the dark, his tall form leaning against his impressive bike under the dim streetlight after her shift, his light smirk growing into a sharply curved grin as he examined her with devilish intent. She could get used to riding on his Triumph every night, and she chalked up her disappointment to the missed chance of feeling the thundering bike beneath her for the second time, not the thrill of seeing a certain pair of iced blue eyes aimed only at her. So Regine walked home alone, convincing herself that she was perfectly fine to be without either of those things for the remainder of the night, her sorrow slowly ebbing away with every passing step as she replayed their passionate kiss over and over in her mind.