Free When Angels Fall by Melissa Jolley

she felt as if they’d known each other forever—they were hand and glove; the trouble was convincing him of that.
    “Yay, you’re not dead! I told you I liked him.” The heat-seeking missile of friendship, otherwise known as Rosie, bombarded her with a bear hug from behind, almost bowling her over.
    “Just because he didn’t kill me doesn’t mean he’s Mr. Right.” Melody extricated herself from Rosie’s arms and gave her friend a look of amused consternation, which did nothing to dampen Rosie’s buoyant mood.
    “Whatever. You fancy the pants off him, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s taken quite a shine to you too.” A smug smile curved her lips.
    “Did you happen to see where the shine was coming from, because his heart’s not in this. Maybe you were looking below his belt line?” She didn’t like the bitterness she heard in her voice—she didn’t do the bitchy girl thing—and she adjusted her tone. “I won’t deny he is a nice guy, but he always calls me Melody. It’s so formal, like he’s afraid to call me Mel, as if it would break down some invisible barrier between us. Besides he’s still in love with...someone else.”
    “Well, whoever she is, she isn’t here now, you are. I saw the way he looked at you. He may not know it yet, but he is in love with you, and as you know, I’m never wrong.” Rosie put her hand up in a stop gesture, effectively halting the conversation as she turned and headed to the front door of the bar.
    Melody watched her, dumbfounded. Oh, you don’t know how much I wish you were right, my friend.
    “Are you coming, or what?” Rosie held the door open and looked expectantly toward her. “I see I’ve given you something to think about.” Her smile grew as Melody shuffled past her.
    “Oh, shut up.” The look of extreme malice she tried to conjure was ruined by the smile she couldn’t quell.
    Rose chortled as she closed the door behind them.
     
    ***
     
    By eleven o’clock The Pit was heaving. Melody was glad she was behind the bar, and not bottle and glass clearing. She didn’t like the idea of having to wind her way through a very crowded room with pint glasses stacked ten high and empty pre-mixed spirit bottles dangling from all her fingers. However, she did enjoy watching Rosie do it. She was so nimble and decisive. Melody always apologized; Rosie just bowled on through with a loud ‘excuse me’ or ‘clear the way.’
    Although Melody was busy serving, her eyes automatically roamed over the heads, looking for Rosie’s bright pink hair. She was nearby, as she had only just headed back into the fray.
    A moment later Melody spotted a head jerk, as if Rosie had been yanked forward and down. It wasn’t in the “hey mate give us a cuddle” way either, but in the “that’s my shoulder you’re dislocating” way. A brief gap in the crowd revealed a hand holding Rosie’s intricately tattooed arm, and a considerably less-than-thrilled look on her face.
    “What the fuck!” Melody’s head swiveled from side to side looking for the nearest bouncer. He was on the other side of the room and facing in the opposite direction. Shit!
    “Be back in a sec.”
    Her astounded customer just nodded as she bounded over the bar toward Rosie. Her best friend might look tough with her tattoos, body piercings, and goth rock fashion sense, but she was the softest person Melody knew.
    “Hey sweetie, what’s going on?” Melody put a possessive arm around Rosie’s shoulder, pulling her upright. The man who’d tugged Rosie down softened his grip, but didn’t relinquish it completely. He was good-looking, but there was an arrogance about him that screamed I’m too good for everyone . He sat with three of his friends in a booth. They looked pretty hammered, and she guessed they’d been drinking for a number of hours.
    A leer broke over the creep’s face. “We were just asking your friend to come party with us. You can join in too, if you want.”
    “Thanks for the