Chapter 7: Possessive Tensions at the Bar
The sticky vinyl booth groaned under Lee’s dramatic slump. He fanned himself with a laminated beer menu, the fluorescent lights catching the glitter dusted on his cheekbones. "Darling, the humidity in here could drown a lesser drag queen," he declared, eyeing CC’s untouched margarita sweating onto the scarred wooden table. "And you, sunshine," he nudged CC’s arm, "look like you’re contemplating fratricide. Or matricide? Who pissed in your tequila?"
CC blinked, dragging her gaze away from Ace leaning against the crowded bar ten feet away. Ace was effortlessly commanding space, her tall frame clad in a worn band tee and ripped jeans, her short dark hair damp at the temples from the bar’s stifling heat. She was laughing at something the bartender said, the sound a low rumble that vibrated right through CC’s chest. The memory of Ace’s hands guiding hers, Ace’s filthy whispers in her ear, Ace’s intense gaze watching her come apart just days ago… it flooded CC’s senses, making the noisy bar feel claustrophobic. "Just… loud," CC mumbled, swirling the icy slush in her glass. Her knuckles were white where she gripped it.
"Loud? Honey, this is a sports bar on game night. It’s supposed to sound like a dying mammoth convention." Lee sipped his cosmopolitan, his eyes sharp behind the pink rim. "You’re radiating ‘back off, she’s mine’ vibes strong enough to knock over that linebacker over there. Trouble in Sapphic paradise already?"
CC flushed. "She’s not mine," she protested weakly, the lie tasting sour. Since that night in Ace’s dorm, since feeling Ace’s control holding her back even as she pushed CC towards her own pleasure, CC hadn’t slept. Every nerve ending felt raw, hypersensitive. The world looked different. She looked different. And Ace… Ace was everywhere, a magnetic pull CC couldn’t escape, didn’t want to escape. The thought of anyone else touching her, flirting with her… it ignited something primal and terrifying deep in CC’s gut.
At the bar, Ace signaled for another beer. As she waited, a figure detached itself from the throng near the pool tables – a woman, maybe early twenties, athletic build, wearing a university soccer jersey. CC recognized her vaguely from matches; a vocal supporter, always near the front. The woman sidled up to Ace with a confident grin, leaning in close to be heard over the din. Ace turned, her expression politely neutral, but CC saw the subtle shift in her posture – open, receptive.
The woman laughed at something Ace said, tossing her dark ponytail. Then, with startling boldness, she slid onto the stool next to Ace, her thigh pressing deliberately against Ace’s jeans. She leaned closer, her hand landing possessively on Ace’s forearm, fingers tracing the defined muscle beneath the sleeve. She whispered something directly into Ace’s ear, her lips brushing the shell. Ace’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. She didn’t pull away.
CC stopped breathing. The roar of the bar faded into a dull, throbbing hum. All she saw was that woman’s hand on Ace’s arm, her body angled intimately into Ace’s space, her lips too close to Ace’s ear. The image burned: Ace’s smirk, the easy way she accepted the attention. That hand… that hand should be hers. Those lips whispering filth should be whispering to her. The possessive heat that had been simmering since the library, since Ace’s dorm room, exploded.
A sharp crack shattered the bubble of noise around their booth. Lee jumped. CC stared down, numb. Her margarita glass lay in jagged pieces on the table, icy lime-green liquid and salt spreading across the sticky vinyl. Her hand was still clenched, trembling, a thin trickle of blood welling from a small cut on her palm where a shard had nicked her. She hadn’t even felt it.
"Jesus, CC!" Lee gasped, grabbing napkins and pressing them to her bleeding palm. "What the hell?"
Ace’s head snapped around at the sound. Her smirk vanished instantly, replaced by sharp concern. She pushed the soccer fan’s hand off her arm without a glance, her focus entirely on CC. She was across the space in three long strides, ignoring the startled fan calling after her.
"CC?" Ace’s voice cut through CC’s daze, rough with worry. She knelt beside the booth, her large hands hovering over CC’s bleeding one, displacing Lee’s napkins. "What happened? Are you cut bad?" Her eyes scanned CC’s face, searching.
CC couldn’t speak. The jealousy was a physical thing, a hot, choking lump in her throat. She stared at Ace, her green eyes wide, dark with a storm of emotion Ace had never seen there before – raw, unfiltered possessiveness, hurt, and a desperate, burning need. Tears welled, blurring her vision, but she didn’t look away from Ace’s intense gaze.
Lee watched, his earlier dramatics replaced by stunned silence. He saw it too: the shattered glass, CC’s bleeding hand, the tremor running through her, and the way she looked at Ace – like Ace was the sun and she’d been plunged into sudden, terrifying darkness. He saw Ace’s complete absorption in CC, the fan forgotten entirely.
Ace gently pried CC’s clenched fingers open, inspecting the shallow cut. Her thumb brushed over the uninjured skin of CC’s wrist, a soothing gesture that felt electric. "Just a nick," Ace murmured, her voice low, meant only for CC. But her eyes held a question, a dawning understanding mixed with fierce protectiveness. She saw the tears threatening to spill. She saw the raw jealousy darkening CC’s normally bright, guileless eyes. She saw the shattered glass, a testament to the storm inside the girl she’d been trying so carefully to guide.
The noisy bar faded completely for Ace. All that existed was CC’s trembling hand in hers, the frantic pulse beneath her thumb, and the devastatingly beautiful, terrifying possessiveness blazing in CC’s tear-filled eyes. The playful flirtation at the bar meant nothing. This… this raw, visceral reaction… this meant everything. Ace’s own breath hitched. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a rough whisper that vibrated through CC’s bones.
"Look at me, baby," Ace commanded softly, her gaze locking onto CC’s, holding her captive. "Only me."