We didn’t let go of each other all evening. I was in love, yes, but I wasn’t a fool. I was a virgin with no intention of ruining my life with a pregnancy. But there were other ways I could ruin my life. I had to keep reminding myself that the man I had my arms around would not be welcome anywhere in my world. Not anywhere.
We didn’t talk. Sometimes words weren’t needed, though I still craved them. I drank another beer as we danced. What was going through his head? Did he feel what I felt—the connection that had built between us the last couple of weeks, the intensifying of it last night on the Hunts’ porch? And now this physical connection. This sensuous connection. He touched me even during the fast songs now. His hand slipping around my waist, over my hip, over my belly. And I touched him back, feeling brazen, ignoring everyone else in the club. If people were watching us, I didn’t know or care. Sweat poured down my neck and slipped between my breasts. For the first time in my life, I felt more animal than woman and I relished the feeling.
“Baby, I Need Your Loving” was playing when he pressed his lips close to my ear and said, “We need to get out of here.”
I nodded as I pulled away from him, and then I saw, clear as day across the room, Rosemary. Her gaze was on us. Her eyes locked with mine and I quickly looked away. “Let’s go,” I said, turning my back to her.
We left the building and I thought we would become like the couple we’d seen out front, necking beneath the awning. But Win held my hand as we ran through the rain across the small, jammed parking lot to the van. He pulled open the side door, helped me onto the rear bench seat, then followed me once he’d shut the door behind him.
I expected to be ravished. I wanted to be ravished. But I should have known that was not Win’s style. He was too cautious. For a moment, I worried the magic I’d felt inside the steamy little club would disappear. But no. He put his hand on my throat, his touch gentle yet assertive, and leaned over to kiss me, his other hand buried deep in my wet hair. He unbuttoned the top button on my blouse. Then the next. I felt the heat of his fingers against my skin. I wanted to lie back on the seat and have him undress me in a way Reed never had. Reed, always considerate. Always cautious. But Win abruptly drew away from me.
“We can’t do this,” he said. “Not here. Not now. It’s a mistake. A mistake in too many ways.”
“I love you,” I said.
He stared at me. Kissed me, lightly. “I love you, too, Ellie,” he said, “but it’s no good. I promised myself I’d never let this happen. It’s impossible. It’s too dangerous. You know that.”
“No,” I said stubbornly. “Please don’t let it be impossible.”
“Sit up,” he said, and I did.
He buttoned the top buttons of my blouse. “Don’t cry,” he said.
I touched my cheeks. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“Win,” I said. “Rosemary was in there.”
He stared at me without speaking. The shadow of the raindrops on the van windows created streaks down his cheeks. I traced one of them with my fingertip.
“Did she see us?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Shit!” he said, and I thought he was reacting to Rosemary seeing us, but then the rain on the van windows bloomed red, and the whole world outside swirled with the color. I knew what caused the light before I turned to look: two police cars.
“Duck down!” Win said. “I don’t think they’re here for us. They can’t be.”
But they were. Not just for Win and me, but for all us freedom fighters. We watched as two officers, billy clubs at the ready, stormed through the front door.
“Go, Win!” I said. “Get out of here before they find you with me!”
He seemed frozen, but after a moment he opened one of the doors and ran through the parking lot into the road. I knew we were far from the house where he was staying and I had no idea how he would be able to get there—most likely, he didn’t even know what direction to head in—but at least he was safe.
In a moment the front door of the club banged open and I watched as my friends—Curry, Paul, Chip, and Jocelyn—were marched toward one of the police cars. Another officer walked toward the van and pulled open the door.
“Who you with in here?” he asked.
“No one,” I said. “I didn’t feel well. Just came in here to take a nap.”
“Yeah, right,” he said. He stepped into the van and checked any place someone might be hiding. Looked at me again. “Think you’re a smarty-pants, don’cha,” he said.