Free BrokenHearted by Brooklyn Taylor Page A

her with my arm over her head as she is standing next to the hall wall decorated with pictures of people who had visited the bar over all the years. Austin City Limits performers who had come into Smith’s.
    She immediately freezes and looks me in the eyes.
    “I just wanted to tell you I am really sorry about your father. He … seems to be a really nice guy, and it is just a shame—”
    “Thank you, Ryann.”
    I hold my position and move in closer to her lips. I watch as they quiver slightly, begging me to kiss her. Or maybe she is frightened that I am going to kiss her. One and the same.
    I lightly graze her lips and stop right before applying full pressure. My body begs me to kiss her hungrily and pull her body closer to mine, grabbing her ass that I know would fit perfectly in my hands. I need something to ease my pain. Perhaps some of the sweetness could smother my meanness. I hoped but wasn’t counting on it.
    I could hear her breathing and was getting hard listening to my rapid pulse from the adrenaline surging through my body.
    I touch her hair with my fingers and then listen to her exhale in relief.
    I move a little farther from her, and she smiles nervously.
    “I thought you were going to kiss me.” She takes a deep breath.
    “And if I did …” I answer without thinking it through.
    She says nothing, but her face lights up with happiness. Unsure happiness. And I lower my arm to set her free.
    She walks back to the bar, and I watch her, not letting my eyes off her for a minute.
    I smile and knew I had one last thing to say. I stand at the end of the bar. “Ryann?”
    She walks to me. “Yeah.”
    “If I wanted to kiss you, I would kiss you. And I wouldn’t do it drunk.” I wink and walk out of the bar not thinking of anything else but her smile and the smell of coconut on her hair.
    I felt alive for a short while until I walked back in the hotel room and heard my mother’s voice on my voicemail. The little beating of happiness that my heart had was gone when I heard her shaking voice. Another reminder of my broken heart .

Seven
    Ryann
    The James’ were always very good to my aunt Jackie, and they had a great working relationship not to mention friendship. They were passionate about something together, and that was huge to me.
    As tough as my aunt Jackie pretended to be, she was the biggest chicken when it came to hospitals. Maybe she was afraid they were going to lock her in one. Instead, she asked that I go, and I was happy to oblige.
    I made a trip to St. Luke’s today to visit Mr. James after Jackie had said he was admitted. I didn’t know much about him, but I knew he wasn’t doing well. I believe Jackie’s exact words were “at death’s door.” She wasn’t anything if she wasn’t blunt and almost cold with her manner. What a horrible expression, if you ask me. Jackie doesn’t do hospitals. In fact, she has only been three times in her entire life, and one of those was when I met her after the horse had kicked her. She only came that time because of the insistence of the person who saw it at her stables and feared she would have a brain embolism and die in her sleep.
    Anyway, I walk around the gift shop, never wanting to go in a room empty handed. I look around and see tons of items I would never buy for a man like Mr. James. He was an old rancher, not a man who would enjoy foo-foo gifts, so I settled on a pack of playing cards.
    I knock lightly on the door, peeking around the door before entering. Mrs. James is leaning over, whispering to him. They seem to be in deep conversation, making me feel like an intruder.
    “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. James. I’m sorry to interrupt. I can come back another time if it would be better,” I state, ready to take my leave.
    “Don’t be silly, dear,” Mrs. James said. “Come on in. Whatcha got there?” She smiles pointing at the cards in my hand.
    Mr. James looks my way. He has an oxygen mask strapped to his face and wires hooked to him. He looks like a