Chapter Thirty - Neufchatel Necking

"EXCUSE ME. EXCUSE me. Ex… That's my foot you stepped on. Can you please move?"

Rather than slide his heel, the man digs it into my toes. He turns to look my way and a brick wall of vodka smashes my face. "What's that?"

"Oh god, I'm blind." I wave my fingers in front of my eyes, but nothing gets through. Did I die of secondhand alcohol poisoning?

The music shifts and the darkness breaks. Hypersonic squeals are greeted by pulsing light rays dancing from the end of the room. "Phew. I'm not dead," I gasp and wipe off my brow.

The drunk leers back. "Fuckin' weirdo," he whispers while stumbling and sloshing his thirty-dollar drink all over the floor.

"Cheddy?" I try to cry out over the surging music. "Brie?"

If I stop to think about how this is my first time in a real club with alcohol and dancing, I might just turn around and run. The bouncer outside gave me a once and twice over when I asked to go in. He checked my ID as much as he did me before he shrugged and pushed open the door.

Come to think of it, maybe he wasn't a bouncer at all. Oh god, did I show my driver's license to a random person?

"Woo! Watch this. Watch!" I'd know that excited cry anywhere. Weaving around pumping arms and sliding bodies, I manage to peer through a wide circle to find Cheddy alone in the center of a mob. He's got both of his arms out and a smile plastered on his face. Cheddy bends his legs, then launches into the air.

"Ooo," the crowd cheers.

Cheddy's large body flies up and starts to spin backward. His head manages to make it to where his feet were, then the ground catches up fast. Too fast!

He lands face-first on the floor in an epic belly flop.

"Oh!" Everyone winces.

Without so much as a groan, Cheddy pops up and shouts, "Yes!"

The people clap for their new Bacchus. I reach a hand out, but the gaps are closing around me. "Cheddy," I cry, the crush of bodies pulling me deeper into the abyss. "It's me. Ched—"

Hands clamp onto my waist. Next thing I know, I'm tumbling ass over head above the dancers. "Sorry, sorry," I shout, nearly bashing my skull into someone.

My feet hit the ground, I think, and I slap a hand on whoever plucked me up. The terrain is vast with a sharp dive off a cliff from a gentle slope up to a solid point.

"Hi, Vi," Cheddy shouts with a wave.

I paw his nipple a few more times to make certain it's him and I'm not still falling. "Cheddy?"

"That's me. Ooh, look what I can do." He bunches down to his haunches, but I grab him by the shoulder.

"Yes. I just saw that. Are you…? Where's Brie?"

"At the bar." He pops back up and starts to dance. At first, it's nothing more than closed fists and jerking side to side, but then Cheddy takes my hand and spins me like we're in some medieval waltz. "He's trying every cocktail on the menu."

"Is that safe?" I shout above the house music that beats to a raucous waltz.

Cheddy takes me by the waist and lifts me into the sky. As he holds me with my forehead nearly against his, he spins us in place. His eyes never leave mine. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"That's a lot of alcohol for one person," I say. And a lot of money.

"The nobles always mix their wine with water. Don't want the knights to get ideas and try to drunkenly overthrow their reign."

"This isn't a castle, Cheddy. They don't…" I say before I stare around the club crammed with college students younger than me. "Okay, they might. But still…"

He sets me down, then lifts my arm, and spins me under it. I revolve quickly, fighting to catch a glimpse of Brie. There's a shape sitting on a barstool surrounded by a mess of crumpled napkins. Is that him?

"This is so much fun," Cheddy cries out. "Why didn't we—?" His never-ending exuberance falls flat. "Oh, right. Well, no more. We're free!"

"Cheddy. Cheddy. Chedward!"

He completely ignores me. With one hand locked to my waist, he waves toward the bar. "Brie, you ol' tosser. Get over here!"

"Why?" Brie shouts, his voice slicing right through a dead zone in the beat.

"Cause Vi's here."

The slumped form at the bar sits up instantly. He drops to his feet, adjusts his shirt, then leans back and slugs down the last of his drink. After raking the hair from his face, he saunters through the crowd to reach us. Cheddy's old-fashioned dance has descended to the more modern style of him holding me so I straddle his thigh while he undulates his hips. I lean back on his arm, trying to catch a glimpse of Brie.

When a chest adheres to my back and hands caress my waist, I nearly gasp out my lungs in shock. The quiet and awkward Brie pulls my ass back against his rising erection. He brushes his lips across my throat and starts to grind. "How'd you manage to ditch the bastard?"

"Um…"

"It took us a hundred or so years," Brie says. He burrows the tip of his nose into the hollow of my collarbone. "You smell so good. Like new-fallen snow by a fire. With a pot of gl?gg!"

"I wanted to talk to you about Roq," I shout while running my finger through Brie's hair. Cheddy takes my other hand and cups it behind his neck, then he does a full barrel roll down his chest while I dangle off of him. It's like I'm riding a mustang bareback while catching onto his mane to keep from getting crushed.

"No," Brie shakes his head.

"No what?" Cheddy calls. He's got his eyes closed while swaying to his own beat.

"Roq."

"Ugh. I don't want to talk about Roq. Why did you mention him?"

"I didn't," Brie yells.

"Yes, you did. It's why I asked you who you said, and you said Roq. Ugh. I don't want to talk about it." Cheddy goes round and round in circles, shaking his head at the bitter thought. Then he collapses both of his arms around my waist and plucks me clean off the ground. "I'd rather dance!"

"Or drink," Brie adds.

"Or both!" Cheddy shouts.

"He's worried about you," I say, no longer dancing but being juggled by two men, literally.

"No, he's not," Brie insists.

"He wants to protect you. To keep you safe." My heart pulses through my whole body. I can feel every second ticking away until dawn. "He cares."

"If he really cared, he'd have told us the truth," Cheddy insists.

"You're right."

Both men freeze. I plummet farther than I expect, my feet almost rolling under me as I hit the ground. Both Brie and Cheddy hold me in place while they glare at the man pushing aside all of the dancers.

Roq meets them in the eye before he drops his head. "I should have told you."

"You're here," I cry out. I thought I had to do this on my own and it wasn't going very well. Then I tip my head, noticing Cam lingering just outside the circle. "Already? That was quick."

"What are you implying?" Roq asks, but Cam snickers. He holds up two fingers to the bartender who's already pouring without another word.

"Nothing, just…glad you're here," I say.

"You're the only one," Brie snarls. His hands fall off of me as if he's about to cross them, then he suddenly latches on. "Let's get out of here, Cheddy. The air's too thick with lies."

"I think it's the dragon that belches smoke below the electronic bard," Cheddy says.

Brie sighs rather than explain his metaphor. Holding me and reaching for Cheddy's hand, Brie deliberately stares behind Roq. "Are you coming, Cam?"

After accepting his drink, Cam oozes into the mix. He carefully stirs the cocktail, then pops the cherry between his lips. "You should hear him out, Brie. For the groveling, at least."

"Why? Why should I trust the man who turned me into cheese?"

At the worst possible moment, the music died. Brie's shout of "cheese" echoes off of every wall like thunder. The lights lift, revealing the dangerous and mysterious club to have laminate floors and burnt orange walls. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here," a voice declares over the intercom.

One by one, the people shuffle for the door. Empty glasses drop to whatever space is available. Cam sighs and upends his drink in one quick shot

"You heard them. We need to leave," Roq says.

"I'm not going with you," Brie insists.

"It will be dawn soon." Roq reaches a hand out as if to take Brie, but the man quickly dodges away.

"So what?"

"I cannot protect you if we're all…turned."

"Don't you understand? I don't need your damn protection. Neither does Cheddy nor Cam. We can make it on our own. We survived years without you. We can do it again."

One by one all three men stand shoulder to shoulder squaring off against Roq. I realize far too late that I'm stuck in the middle. My leg flaps away, trying to get me an exit, but Cheddy takes my left shoulder, Cam my right, and Brie holds my waist.

"We don't need you, Roq," Brie says.

The impenetrable man, the bulwark who would brook no challenge of his word collapses in front of them. It's so shocking how fast Roq crumbles they all gasp. With his head bent to his chest, Roq says, "I know."

"You do?" Cheddy asks. "Wait, what do you know?"

"That I need you far more than you'll ever need me. You're right. You can do this on your own. Cam can charm himself into any safe bed for the night and pantry for the day."

Cam bends his head and beams a big smile.

"Cheddy, I don't think there's a person alive who's met and hated you."

"It's hard to meet dead people," Cheddy says and bounces on his toes.

"And Brie."

Perhaps the liquid courage is wearing off, or maybe Brie's finally realizing the finality of this. Either way, he bows his head and doesn't look directly at Roq. "I know. I'm useless. I can't make cheese, I can't fight like Cheddy or beguile like Cam."

"Says the one who was first into our lady's bed," Cam nearly whispers to himself, but my ears burn at the mention.

"I'm the wash boy, the gopher, the failure. Destined to never amount to anything more than a wheel of brie."

Roq flinches and his words dry up. He stares at the ground, his face covered in guilt.

"That's not true," I say? No. It couldn't be me. This fight has nothing to do with me.

"You don't understand," Brie says to me. "You're an outsider."

"I've seen your paintings, Brie." I turn to face him, putting my back to Roq. "The way you devour books over and over, always finding something new in the dogeared pages. You're an artist with the tenderest heart I've ever known."

"That makes me weak," he sneers.

"No," Roq thunders. "Fragile maybe, like a crystal vase or an icicle in the sun, but you were never weak. I'm sorry that I could have ever made you think that."

"It—!" Brie cries out, then he softens. "It wasn't just you."

Roq clasps his hands together as if he's about to pray. "I thought I could make amends. I never wanted this to happen to you, to anyone. I had no idea what I unleashed into this world."

"I, I, I," Cheddy says. "What about we?"

"We?"

"Don't tell me that in all this time, all those cellars, the cheese, the long nights, and grateful dusks when we'd celebrate surviving another day were just for you. You can claim to be a selfish prick all you want, Roq, but it's a rotten lie. And I'm tired of those."

"I…" Roq stutters and purses his lips.

"Hey. You can't be here. Clear out!" a large man shouts from the door.

"Give us a minute," Brie says.

"We're breaking through ancient brambles of lies and truths here," Cam adds.

"All I wanted was to free you from this. To…to save you," Roq gasps.

"That's just it, Roquefort, Sir Up-his-own-butt," Cheddy says. "We aren't your charges. We never were. We all ate the damn cheese we shouldn't have. Maybe that did it. Maybe it was god's way of saying these four need a few dozen or so centuries to figure things out. To be together. I don't pretend to understand his ways. But you treated us differently, as pups instead of fellow wolves, for no good reason. That's what has to end…or we will."

Roq shudders, tears glistening in his eyes. He lifts his head and a smile winds up his lips.

"That's it!"

A hand clamps onto Roq's shoulder.

"We're nearly—" Cam says when one of the bouncers throws a punch to his gut. A knotted cherry stem flies from his lips and strikes me on the cheek.

Roq's eyes go red. "No one hits my friends!" Screaming from the bowels of hell, he whirls on the man holding him, wrenches the guard's arm back, and hefts him off of the ground. More bouncers come running from behind the bar. Brie and Cheddy square up while Cam smashes a glass over the one that hit him.

In a blink of an eye, the bar brawl begins.

"Owe. Owe. Ah… Owe."

"It's your own damn fault. If you hadn't shouted ‘Have at thee, cur,' and hurled that table, you wouldn't be limping, Cheddy."

"How was I supposed to know it'd throw out my back? Owe. Owe."

"Does this help?" I ask, trying to duck lower while his arm is slung across my shoulder.

He squeezes my waist and smiles at me. "No. Owe. But thank you for trying. It only stings if I breathe."

"So cease breathing," Cam says, a whistle warbling through his two missing teeth. I suggested we get him to a dentist, but all he did was scoop them up and shoo away my concern.

"Anyone else suspect he's fishing for sympathy?" Roq booms from behind. He's sporting not one but two black eyes, one of which came from an errant blow by Brie.

I'd think it was done on purpose, but Brie is nursing his injured hand. He keeps almost touching the split knuckles, then hisses in pain and looks away.

"I saved your buttocks. I deserve sympathy," Cheddy says. "Owe."

"You leaped on top of a man's back and tried to ride him through the bar," Roq says.

Cheddy absently scratches his head. "Well, it saved you, didn't it?"

They answer with an exhausted sigh while we limp as a team back toward the cheese shop. I keep bracing myself for cops or, I don't know, a SWAT team to come after these dangerous individuals. But the street's quiet, the clock striking five. The night owls have fled to their coops and the early birds are still brewing their coffee. It's a rare time when the city belongs to no one but the men who become cheese and the woman caught in their orbit.

"I must admit," Cam says, "it was rather entertaining watching you dual wield those bottles like clubs."

"You could have told me they were empty," Roq says.

"That would have ruined the fun. How's the leg?"

"Full of glass. Thanks."

Cam slaps him across the back. "All we need to patch you up is a warm rag and a bottle of whiskey."

A full-body cringe knots up Roq, but it's Brie who mutters, "Don't use that word."

"Which one? Bottle? Whiskey?"

Brie moans and clutches his head. "What did I do to myself?"

"Put your liver through its paces. But come sunrise, it'll be cheese, and you won't feel a thing."

"We're almost home," I say.

"Thank god," all four men exclaim. I help Cheddy limp his way inside. They take the door one by one, holding it for each other until Roq's standing alone. I manage to guide Cheddy to the ground where he grabs his chin and, whip-fast, cracks his neck.

"That's the stuff."

Cam leaps onto one of the counters and leans over to pick up—sure enough—another bottle of wine. Brie catches him doing it, then spins around and faces the trash can. Cam cries out, "Please save the vomiting for after our celebratory party. To…"

One by one, Cam, Brie, Cheddy, and I all look to Roq still standing out in the metaphorical cold. It's actually July and muggy as hell out, but saying he's standing in the heat doesn't have the same metaphorical pop.

"What are you doing, old man?" Cam asks.

"Come on inside," I say.

Roq lifts his head as if he's going to do some gentlemanly thing like sleep in the dumpster. He parts his mouth with a heavy sigh.

"Did you forget how to walk? One foot, then the other?" Cheddy cries out. Despite his limp and strained back, he leaps to his feet. "I'll show you."

"Hey," I cry out.

"Hmm? Oh. Owe. My back."

I playfully slug Cheddy in the shoulder, and he pretends to buckle from the force. At least I think he's pretending. He's very good at it. "Oh, she's got an arm on her. Watch yourselves, boys. I'm slain!"

"More for me then." Cam lunges forward and wraps his arms around my waist. I skid back on my heels, my head tumbling against his chest. He takes a drink of wine, red dribbling from the side of his lips. Then he bends around and kisses me. The combination of rich, heady grapes and his electric spark causes me to zing.

"Hey, I get a turn," Cheddy says. He reaches for the bottle, which Cam holds out. Cheddy bats the wine away and scoops me up in his arms. "I'd risk three black eyes for you."

"You only have two eyes."

"I'd grow another eye, then take a punch for you," Cheddy muses in the strangest and sweetest compliment I've ever gotten. He doesn't just kiss me but dips me until my upper half is nearly horizontal with the floor.

"Oh, so we're going for panache," Cam says. He leaps off the counter, then cracks his knuckles. Reaching for me, his fingers dance up my arm.

"Roq."

The single word from Brie breaks up our silly game. Roq hasn't moved from his spot. Instead, he's staring at all of us like we're a painting hanging on a wall while he's got his nose pressed to the glass.

Brie rubs his broken knuckles. He swung hard for a man who got a hand on me. When he struck Roq on accident, I feared what would happen. Rather than retaliate, Roq body-slammed the bouncer coming up behind Brie. He hasn't said a word about it since.

Biting his lip, Brie glances at the wall. "It'll be dawn soon. You should get inside."

Roq's cheeks turn pink. He bows his head and finally closes the door.

"Yeah, "cause otherwise, you'll turn into a doorstop. Of cheese. Is that a good pun?"

"No, Cheddy. It's not," Cam says.

"Right, cause all of the door mice will eat it. Got you."

No one's saying it, but the air is quieter, softer—like a storm has passed. Even still, Roq lingers away from Brie and Cheddy as if he isn't quite ready to walk into the light. I catch his eye and smile, which he returns.

"Now, where were we?" Cam says. "Oh, yes." He spins me around and I tumble out of my shoes. "There's one less obstacle." He growls and leans closer, but I dip my head and stare back.

"What about Brie? Shouldn't he get a chance?"

"So we're a turn-based relationship now?" Cam asks even as he helps me upright. "You should know I have first initiative."

I dip my fingers just below the hand Brie bashed up. He extends his palm and I carefully take it. "Your poor painting hand," I say.

"It…stings," Brie whispers. As I lift it, he fights off a wince just before I tap the tip of his pointer finger on my lip.

"What if I kiss it?" I ask.

He gulps, his eyes going wide as I lap my tongue around the wounded digit. Brie's hiss of pain shifts to a moan. I move down his hand, licking every finger. Just as I'm reaching for the pinkie, he wrenches his hand away, grabs my hair, and kisses me so hard I see white. Rather than ravish me with his tongue, Brie slips away. He drops his forehead to mine, his breath struggling as a smile twists his lips.

"Now me!" Cheddy shouts.

"Hold on, junior." Roq clamps onto his shoulder and pushes him back like the huge knight is made out of paper. Brie lets me go just as I turn to face Roq.

Unlike the others, he isn't smiling. If anything, his face is gnarled in an anger that hits like a clap of thunder. "You." Roq grabs my hips and hefts me onto the counter. I yelp in shock and slam my palms to his shoulders.

Growling, he peers into my face. "Are a goddamn miracle." Spreading his palm over the back of my head, Roq guides me to him. I hang on for dear life as his kiss melts my spine.

"Well, that's… Huh?" Cheddy says.

Roq caresses his thumb to the hollow of my cheek just as he traces his tongue across my lips. I open them greedily, drinking in the hills of southern France and the caves of a lone, lost shepherd.

"Is this new?" Brie asks.

"Took you long enough," Cam says.

Breaking away, Roq wipes his thumbs across my lips and gives me a quiet smile. "Now." He coughs, his voice straining. "Who do you want next?"