The roar of butterfly wings in her stomach made Dani forget her lingering headache. She and Jon had been together on and off three months, but she'd never been in his trailer. Now, she stood at the door, looking in.
Jon had already flopped onto the foldout couch and was busy clearing old cans and piles of wadded notebook paper—songs that didn't make the cut, Dani guessed. The place reeked of sweat and stale beer. Two and a half slices of yesterday's pizza sat in an open box on the end table.
Dani swept away the crumbs of heaven-knows-what and slumped onto the other side of the couch.
Jon tried to make light, but Dani wasn't in the mood for jokes and said as much. He moved closer to her. She scooted away.
Seeing his face fall, she said, "You know I love you."
"Yeah, I know. Just don't want to be touched right now."
For once, he almost seemed to understand. No challenge. No attempt to keep pushing it. He just sat there, looking into her eyes until she felt like she could ignore the mess surrounding her and just melt into him.
He gets it. He knows I'm not just a kid.
After what seemed like forever, Jon rose and snaked his way through the piles of equipment and junk to the minifridge at the end of the trailer. Reaching into the tiny freezer partition, he returned with a green bottle.
"Know you don't do this," he said, sloshing the dark liquid in the half-full bottle.
"You don't anymore, either." Dani bit her lip. "You promised."
"Haven't had a drop in weeks," Jon said, setting the bottle between them. "Honest. It's Bobby's."
"Won't that make him…?"
Jon grinned, an exaggerated nod.
She had to admit, ticking Bobby off sweetened the deal.
"Trust me," he said, unscrewing the cap. "You'll feel better."
She picked the bottle up, looked inside, grimaced.
"Just once won't kill you."
She held the bottle high. "Here's to Daddy and Victor and Kari and everyone else who thinks I'm still just a baby."
"Slow down, babe, that ain't Pepsi," Jon said, grabbing the bottle as she sputtered.
"Ugh, what is that stuff?" She read the label—Jägermeister. "Tastes like black jellybeans."
Jon took a pull and handed it back.
She shook her head. "Grossest thing I've ever put in my mouth."
But two minutes later, she had to admit she did feel a little better. Light-headed. Almost giddy. And two swigs later, cradled in Jon's arms, she felt a lot better.