Intoxicated

by Alicia Renee Kline

  It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of my shoulders as the elevator doors closed in front of me and I descended to my Honda. I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as I unlocked my car door and climbed inside.

  Once I was on the interstate and headed back to Fort Wayne, I pulled out my phone and dialed Gracie. She had obviously had a pretty rough night; the hangover she was feeling was apparent in the way she spoke on the phone. Because of this, she didn’t question why I was wasting precious time with Eric calling her. I quickly asked her to come to Thanksgiving. She responded in the affirmative. Like with Eric, I told her that I would finalize the details later. She seemed relieved when I ended the conversation. I imagined she had hung up and gone straight back to bed. I wondered if she would even remember that we had spoken later.

  The Mustang was parked in the driveway when I pulled up to the house. Luckily, Matthew usually pulled in on Blake’s side and today was no different. I opened the garage door and maneuvered my car in beside the Miata. I tried to ignore the fact that just the sight of his car had brought a smile to my face. We were just friends, that was all. I was happy to be seeing Blake again, too.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Matthew greeted the moment the door to the kitchen swung open, “welcome home.”

  I stepped completely into the kitchen. Matthew was seated at the breakfast bar. Blake stood across from him, loading the dishwasher. She twirled around as I shut the door behind me, a surprised look on her face. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting me back yet. She narrowed her eyes with concern, studying my face for signs of tears.

  “Hey, yourselves,” I said as casually as I could muster. I walked past them both and deposited my duffel bag and purse on the kitchen table.

  “I am so glad you’re back,” Matthew said.

  His sentiment caught me entirely off guard. I turned to look at him, meeting him squarely in the eyes. I felt heat rise up to my cheeks. Out of the corner of my vision, I noticed Blake stopped what she was doing. His comment hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, either.

  It took him just a split second to finish his thought, but during that time you could hear a pin drop. Blake and I collectively held our breath and waited.

  “Blake’s cooking is horrendous.”

  Oh. I giggled nervously. Blake returned to her dishes. It was just like me to overreact. Again, an innocent, friendly observation. He was happy to see me because of my culinary skills, nothing more.

  “Did you have a good time?” Blake asked, effectively changing the subject.

  I shrugged, and the siblings exchanged a knowing glance.

  “Parts of it were good,” I allowed, “and I got him to agree to come to Thanksgiving.”

  “Great.” Blake said, sounding like it was anything but.

  “And you’ve got yourself a host,” Matthew added. “Blake worked on me while you were gone. I find it hard to tell her no.”

  “But he gave a valiant effort.” Blake laughed.

  “So, how about tomorrow after work we go over to my place? I’ll come and pick you up. Blake has a client meeting, so it’ll just be the two of us.”

  The way he presented it was so ordinary, like it was no big deal. And logistically, it made sense. Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and if I was the hostess, I needed to feel in my element. There was no possible way I could do that in a foreign kitchen. It was just prudent to get a lay of the land. But to my ears, his words had a double meaning. It almost sounded like he was asking me out.

  “Sure, whatever works for you,” I tried my best to sound noncommittal.

  “Then it’s settled. We can stop somewhere and pick up dinner on the way. I have nothing at my house, unless you like cereal.”

  “He likes to mooch off of his baby sister,” Blake said with a grin.

  “My baby sister knows how to pick a roommate.”

  At that, I turned bright red. No matter what the topic at hand was, he always seemed to twist it around in a way that left me blushing. I wondered how much of it was intentional flirting, and how much was just his charisma. I had watched him interact with Blake so many times; none of these comments appeared out of the ordinary. I was just taking things out of context. If he was saying these exact words to his sister, there would be nothing wrong with them.

  Damn Eric for putting these thoughts into my head. Damn him for suggesting that Matthew would inherently want more than friendship. His comments had me subliminally creating examples of flirtatious behavior. He was intentionally feeding me reasons to have a guilty conscience.

  Not that I needed any help with the guilt. My dream on Friday night had succeeded quite well on its own, thank you. My thoughts flashed back to the image of Matthew naked in my bed, my comforter draped conveniently over him to avoid exposing too much. If I hadn’t already been the color of a beet, I would have turned crimson.

  Matthew slid down from his barstool.

  “I hate to eat and run,” he announced, “but Chris is coming over in an hour. I need to get back home.”

  At this news, Blake stuck out her tongue. He didn’t look offended. Instead he crossed the kitchen and gave her a big hug.

  “Bye, dork,” she said, pulling away from his embrace, “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  He made his way back to me. I stood frozen in place, watching as he approached as if he was moving in slow motion. He placed his hand on my shoulder, giving me a big smile.

  “And you,” he said, squeezing gently, “I will see tomorrow.”

  I nodded dumbly. All I could think about was his hand on me, how his touch was warm even through my sweatshirt. He bent down, his lips just inches away from my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. Despite my desire to keep cool, I shivered.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered. Obviously, he didn’t want Blake to hear. He held me at arm’s length, his blue eyes searching my face for clues.

  “Yes,” I said under my breath, “I will be.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded, attempting to convince myself. He shook his head in disbelief, then squeezed my shoulder once more before he left. I stood still, staring at the place that he had just vacated, even after I heard the front door close behind him. Tears sprang to my eyes as I heard the Mustang roar to life and pull away from the house. With a deep breath, I wiped the moisture away with my sleeve and went to join Blake by the breakfast bar.

  Blake either hadn’t heard our exchange, or she did a good job pretending she hadn’t. She glanced up as I took a seat on the stool across the counter from her. Finished with her cleaning, she set her dish towel down and came around to join me.

  “Can I ask you something?” I questioned hesitantly. I felt embarrassed even bringing it up, certain it was nothing.

  “Sure.”

  “Who’s Chris?”

  She smirked, stifling a laugh. “Chris is his best friend. Also my ex.”

  “Oh.”

  I couldn’t help but feel relief. The sentiment was surprising to say the least. When he had mentioned the name, as gender neutral as it was, I had felt some apprehension about him possibly having a date. This made no sense at all. Him dating someone was none of my business. None of my concern.

  “Jealous much?”

  Blake was perceptive, that much was sure.

  “I was just curious. He never talks about anyone around me. And you obviously had a strong opinion about this person. It was intriguing.”

  “And you thought Chris might be a girl. Classic.”

  “First Eric and now you.”

  Her eyebrow arched, begging me for an explanation.

  “Eric told me to be careful. That guys can’t be friends with girls. He said that eventually Matthew would end up wanting more even though I am spoken for.”

  “Which is why you’re home early?”

  “Partially.”

  I proceeded to go into great detail about the weekend. I made sure to highlight the good parts: the pizza, the conversati
ons, the shopping, my new necklace, the intimacy. But no matter how much I raved about the fun we had had together, the fairy tale still ended the same way. We still wound up arguing over my move to Fort Wayne during a very expensive dinner. I edited out the dream I had about Matthew, not sure that needed to be shared with anyone, especially not his sister.

  “I’m proud of you,” she stated when I had finished, “for standing up to him the way you did. I mean, I’ve only known you for a few weeks now, but already he has put you through a lot of grief. I can’t imagine the smaller things that he has done during your relationship. Anyone who would ever ditch you like he did, that’s not their first offense. Maybe now that you’ve removed yourself from your comfort zone you are starting to realize that.”

  I shrugged. “He promised me when I left that we would make things work. I believed him. And now I’m not so sure.”

  “He’s coming to Thanksgiving, right? That’s progress. I know it didn’t come as smoothly as you intended, but he is giving you that.”

  “He hasn’t shown up yet. He could still ditch.”

  “And face your wrath? If you mean anything to him, that is extremely doubtful. Especially not when your dad will be here, too. And Matthew. If he is so worried about my brother, he’ll definitely come to size up the competition.”

  “There’s no competition.”

  She smiled knowingly. “I know, you have a boyfriend, right? Who is very jealous of a new friend you’ve made who also happens to be a guy. Trust me, Eric wouldn’t miss this for the world. He’ll come just to put a face with the name.”

  “We should probably call the police and put them on notice.” I said, only half joking.

  She giggled. “I know that Matthew flirts with you a little bit when it’s just us, but he will be on his best behavior in front of Eric. In fact, he’ll be nervous as hell in front of your dad.”

  “I’m asking a lot of him, aren’t I?”

  I hadn’t really thought about it in that context before. I was attempting to help Matthew by having him talk with my father. My intentions were good, but I had set my plan into motion with little regard to how he felt about the whole thing. Matthew had been hurt deeply by the two people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, and I was asking him to spill his darkest secrets to a stranger. He was intensely private about the whole turn of events, and I wanted him to put everything on display. He hadn’t even sat down to tell me about it in his own words. I only knew what I did because of Blake and her scrapbook.

  Blake thought for a moment before saying anything. “Yes, but it’s not a bad thing. He needs to face his demons before he can get rid of them. He’s been broken for a long time, Lauren, and I wasn’t sure that anything would ever begin to fix him. And then you came into our lives and something happened. Sometimes you don’t understand why you meet certain people, and other times you do.”

  “I always thought it was a huge coincidence that we were all affected by drunk driving. I answered your ad for a roommate on a whim. I never really considered it was fate.”

  “Call it what you want, but it happened. And he thinks the world of you. And so do I. So whatever it is, it’s a good thing.”

  “I know it may be a convoluted scheme, but my intentions are good. I feel so bad that he only has a handful of people that he considers to be on his side. If I can show him that most people don’t think like his parents, then maybe he’ll start to feel less guilt over everything.”

  “We all have skeletons in our closet. His are just available for everyone to read about on the internet.”

  “Because if it’s on the internet, then it’s got to be true.” My words were laced with sarcasm.

  “Most of it is in this case.”

  “I haven’t looked. I don’t know if I ever will. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me.”

  She smiled. “I think he will tell you everything. In time. He’s never had to do that before, so it’s all new territory. Chris and I already know. We lived it with him. And he pushes everyone else away before they get too close. But you, you’re different.”

  “Does it bother you that they are still friends? Him and Chris?”

  She shook her head. “They were friends before we dated. And he needs someone else who understands everything. Chris is a decent guy. Things just didn’t work out between us. And I don’t have to like all of his friends.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake wringing her hands as she spoke. Clearly, there was a lot she was editing out. I wondered if, in time, she would share the whole story with me like she was sure her brother would share his. I placed my hand on her shoulder reassuringly and we sat quietly for a moment. Discreetly, she wiped a tear away. I pretended not to see.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I made it through an entire Monday after a fight with Eric without getting flowers at work. Maybe he considered the acceptance of the invite to Thanksgiving to be repentance enough. Or maybe some of the words I had spoken at our ill-fated dinner had finally sunken in. Either way, I was fine with it. I was sick of him trying to buy my forgiveness with things, but I still wore the ruby necklace proudly. It was, after all, beautiful.

  He hadn’t texted me since I left abruptly, either. Since time was drawing near to the holiday, if he didn’t break the ice soon, I would be the one who ended the silent treatment. I did have to tell him when and where to show up after all. I didn’t, however, have to make it flowery and filled with sentiment. A simple address and time would suffice. If he hadn’t made the first move by the time I was ready to officially announce everything, that was my plan.

  True to Matthew’s word, the house was empty when I arrived home. Blake had been extra careful to remind me that she was meeting with a client tonight and that she would just grab something to eat on the way home. In fact, she had looked almost giddy that she would be leaving me alone with her brother. I was sure she was convinced that there was an attraction there. If she only knew about the dream.

  I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. I checked my hair in the mirror and touched up my makeup. Without dinner to prepare, I had nothing to keep me occupied while I waited for him. Nervous energy bubbled up inside me. Unable to sit still, I paced the living room floor.

  This was nothing, I reminded myself. It wasn’t like we were going out on a date. He was taking me back to his place after getting dinner somewhere, sure, but it was all innocent. I needed to stop making this out to be anything more than it was. Did I want it to be something more than it really was?

  It wasn’t out of the ordinary to notice his car pulling into the drive. It was strange, however, that I stared at him as he got out and made his way up the sidewalk. From my angle, I could see him but he couldn’t see me. As I stood on the other side of the door, I wondered if he would ring the doorbell or use his key. Once I heard the key slide into the lock, I grabbed the doorknob and turned.

  “Hey,” I greeted as I swung the door open, “I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

  “Hey, gorgeous. Ready to go?”

  With a quick gesture, he removed his key from the door. If I had surprised him, he covered well. I nodded my agreement and went to get my purse. He leaned against the wall, waiting. His stance was casual, unaffected. I felt anything but. When I returned to his side, he held the door open for me, allowing me to pass. He locked up the house behind us. It seemed natural to let him do that; he was there almost as much as I was and I lived there.

  “So what sounds good for dinner?” he asked as we walked to the car.

  I shrugged. “I could go for a drive through cheeseburger to be honest.”

  “My kind of girl.”

  He didn’t see me blush; he was too busy opening the passenger door for me. I got in and did my best to regain my composure as he walked around the car and climbed in the driver’s seat. The car was impressive, though I didn’t expect anything less. It fit him, his personality, his utter attractiveness.

  He turned the key in the ignition and the e
ngine roared to life, along with the stereo. Loud music blared from the speakers. He quickly moved to turn down the volume, but not before I recognized the song. Instinctively, my hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him from shutting the radio off completely.

  We both froze in place, staring at our arms as if they weren’t attached to the rest of our bodies. Slowly, we turned to look at each other. We were still touching. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to let go. His blue eyes searched mine intently, looking for an explanation.

  “I didn’t realize you liked Parabelle,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone else who’s ever heard of them.”

  He smiled. “Have you seen them live? They’ve played Indy a few times.”

  “No. Eric’s not really into the whole music thing. He would never go with me, and I really wouldn’t want to go by myself.”

  “So the next time they come, I’ll take you.”

  “Only if we drive this.” I was shocked at my boldness. I was pretty sure I was flirting.

  “I know it’s not a Honda, but it gets me where I need to go. I’m surprised you would lower your high standards on my account.”

  Somehow when Matthew made fun of my aging car, I found it amusing and not insulting. I doubted that Eric would ever be able to pull that off, even if he had recited the words verbatim. I laughed, a pure and easy sound that made his smile spread across the whole of his face.

  “Now, if you’ll let go of me, I kind of need my arm to drive.”

  “Oh,” I said, totally embarrassed.

  I released my grip around his wrist and placed my offending hand in my lap. It was his turn to laugh. While my cheeks burned, he seemed completely at ease. I was so aware of his closeness I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. His right hand rested on the gear shift, his fingers dangling dangerously close to my left leg. It shouldn’t have surprised me that he drove a stick, this was, after all, an authentic sports car.