Free Teague by Juliana Stone

that night Sabrina was asking herself why the hell she hadn’t stuck to her guns and just stayed home. They’d watched the water extravaganza. Observed one hundred and ten ways to jump ramps on water skis. They’d walked the boardwalk. They’d visited the antique car show in the park. They’d done all the things that couples do except Teague and Sabrina were no couple. In fact it was glaringly obvious Teague would have preferred to be with anyone else. He hardly looked at her and barely spoke, but then it must be hard to do considering his jaw was clenched so tight he’d have to use a knife to pry it open.
    Of course Sabrina wasn’t a barrel of laughs either, and she sure as hell didn’t look like Candace—she knew that—but sheesh, she wasn’t chopped liver.
    Now they were stuck inside The Rocking Saddle and Sabrina would have given her right hand to be anywhere else. The place was packed, standing room only, and as she leaned up against the bar. Sabrina’s gaze swept the room. There were couples of all ages here enjoying the music and kick off to the long weekend—all of them loud and happy and
connected.
    All these people were living their lives and she was just standing still.
    Sabrina felt as if she was swimming against a strong current with a ball of lead attached to her waist. She was drowning and suddenly it was too much. She set her drink onto the bar and shoved her way past Teague. Not that he would notice. Candace had shown up and wiggled her way into the small space between Sabrina and Teague, and she hadn’t shut up for the last five minutes.
    Sabrina pushed her way through the crowd and found solace in the bathroom, thankful that both stalls were empty. God she was hot. She splashed cold water on her face and shoved a hunk of hair from her eyes.
    She stared at herself in the mirror for a long, long time. There were new wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Lovely. And the dark circles underneath them—the ones she’d tried to hide with concealer—were visible. They were faint, but they were still there.
    Ugh. When had she started looking so old?
    Not old, a voice whispered in her head. Just sad.
    Sniffling, she splashed more warm water on her face and then ran fingers through her hair. The humidity had made it kink into big waves, but she didn’t see how cute she looked. Didn’t see the big topaz eyes fringed with thick long lashes, or the small pert nose and the smattering of freckles.
    She didn’t see how the deep green halter-top enhanced the color of her eyes, or how the white skirt hugged her hips and showed off her tanned legs.
    She saw none of that because she wasn’t looking or maybe it was because she forgot what that girl looked like.
    With a sigh Sabrina turned away and headed back out into the busy bar. Maybe she would just plead a headache and take a cab home.
    She was halfway across the large room when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her backward.
    “Hey,” she said with a sputter, cranking her neck so that she could see properly.
    Josiah.
The big guy was sweaty from the heat and most likely beer. A big grin swept across his face. “I didn’t know you were coming out,” he said, leaning forward. Sabrina puckered her nose. Definitely beer.
    “I kind of got roped into it.”
    “Well I’m not going to complain about that.” Josiah grinned and then swayed a bit. “Can I get you something? A drink?”
    “No,” she said, taking a step back. “Thank you but I’m heading out anyway.”
    “You can’t,” he said, making a grab for her other arm. “Come on Bree. Dance with me first. I like this one.”
    Bree. No one called her that. No one but Brent.
    Anger flashed through her. “No, Josiah. I need to get back.” And suddenly she did. It was all too much. The people. The noise. This big man who suddenly didn’t seem to understand what the word ‘no’ meant.
    His grip was hard and Sabrina pursed her lips. People were starting to stare.
    “Josiah, please.”
    He