He stares at me like I’ve grown another head that’s named Frank…then shakes his head and says, “What the fuck are you on?”
“The ground, duh.” I laugh then burst out crying. “Too much tequie,” I mumble, falling into his chest.
“You mean tequila?” he questions with a hint of a smile in his voice.
I smile against his chest and wrap my arms around his waist, patting his butt. “Mmmm, tequie, tequie.” I shake my hips a little, poking his amazing butt cheeks with a little giggle and hiccup.
“Come on, Liv. Let’s get you home,” he says and begins to pick me off his chest, but I cry out on the top of my lungs and shake my head.
“Stay on tequie, with mmm butts.” I giggle and begin to fall into a puddle on the ground. “Tequie!” I scream, and he hoists me up onto my feet, and I sigh in relief. “Tequie…”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Noah barks from behind me.
I turn around and wrap my arms around Grey’s neck, smiling lazily. “’Sup, BF.”
“Let go of her.” He ignores me and takes a step forward.
“She’s too drunk. I’m taking her home,” Grey explains through gritted teeth.
“You don’t get to do that,” Noah barks and holds out his hands. “Hand her over.”
“I am not something to hand over.” I roll my eyes at the ridiculous men.
“Fuck that, and fuck you,” Grey hisses, completely ignoring what I just said.
Noah takes a step forward, and I widen my eyes. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, would he…? Is it bad I don’t know which guy I’m talking about?
“Do something,” I hiss at Dean.
He steps up between the two with a smirk. “Calm your tits, everyone. There will be no fighting…” he promises, and I sigh in relief. “Until I’ve bet my money on Grey. Get at him, G!”
“Seriously?”
In the flash of an eye, Grey’s fist swings into the air, and I prepare for all hell to break loose.
Chapter Eight
Grey
I let my fist fall before it can connect with his face. I have to think about this. If I beat up this Ken motherfucker, Liv will freak out and push me away. She did exactly that the time I tried to help at that glamorous mansion party, after she fell in that pool and I gave Golden Boy what he had coming. And there is no way in hell I trust her to be trashed around this fucker and Dean. I don’t like the way Dean is eyeing her right now, like he has something wicked up his sleeve. I know what’s usually up that tatted sleeve of his—absolute terror.
“I don’t want any problems,” I semi-lie through clenched teeth. “I just want to get her home. That’s it. Not that I have to answer to you.”
“You do, actually, because we’re together,” he hisses, then smiles like the snake he is. “If anyone’s taking her home, it’s me.”
He takes a step forward, grubby hands outstretched for my girl…yeah, you know what? I said what I fucking meant. After all this time apart and all the heartbreak and everything in between, she is mine, and she will always be mine. He or any other collared guy can try to get in the way of us, but he won’t succeed. I mean, look how she’s latching onto me like she’s too afraid she’ll die if she lets go. I know for sure that if she does, I might be the one who goes down.
“Listen, you irrelevant swine, you are just a plaything for the moment. I, on the other hand, know how to take care of this and her, so get your little fucking hands away from her and go back to partying with your Barbie, Ken.”
“There is no way in hell I am letting you take her anywhere,” he hisses.
“Noah,” Liv whines, and I freeze as she turns to face him.
Is she about to reject me again?
“I want my bed, and he won’t try anything. If he does, I’ll shoot him in the foot, m’kay?” She beams up at him, and I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding back.
“I’ll take you home,” he says softly, taking her hands.
I have to look away and clutch my own before I let my desire win over and knock the fucker out.
“You gotta take care of the others,” she explains, gesturing to the crowd, referring to her group of friends.
“Make him do it,” Golden Boy scoffs, shooting a “deadly” glare at me.
“Fuck no, I don’t care about the others,” I scoff.
“I am offended!” I hear Jaimie scream somewhere in the crowd on the dance floor.
How the hell did she even hear me? It’s so fucking loud in here!
“Noahhhhhh.” Liv drags out his name while slowly falling to the floor.
Before she can hit the floor, I snag her back into my chest and flash her “BF” a grin.
“See you around, fucker.” I wink at him and nearly laugh at his fists. As if he could do any damage. I could have his ass cold on the floor in point-two seconds. Make it point-one if he tries to test me even further or even attempts to touch her. There is no doubt in my mind she doesn’t actually like this little boy. But if he keeps entertaining me like this, I don’t mind him being around…for the time being, of course.
I hastily bypass Dean and the gang members, shooting down any fucker who looks at her in any perverted way. And I am almost out of the club when my forearm is clutched. I stop, my blood running cold, because I instantly know who it is without having to turn around.
“This doesn’t look like you’re over her…now does it?” Dean drawls from behind me in a tone that makes me shiver. I know what he is capable of, and I don’t ever want to hurt the girl mewling like a little kitten in my arms. I want to protect her and show her that I still do really care for her…but what if she gets hurt in my arms more than anywhere else, more than with Noah?
But then it hits me…I’m selfish, and I won’t let him or anyone else dictate my feelings for her.
“Guess it doesn’t,” I answer him, side-eyeing him.
He lifts an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my defiance. When he says nothing in return, but stares into my eyes coolly, I know there will be repercussions tomorrow. But for right now, I have to get her home and out of harm’s way. I don’t know what kind of prowling fuckers would try and take advantage of her, this intoxicated. Getting her to safety is more important than Dean’s wrath.
I exit the club and slide my jacket around her, noticing she’s shivering like a Chihuahua. She gives a muffled thank you while rubbing her eyes. I save her from walking into a pole, barely bite back a laugh, and guide her to my parked car a block away. When we get to it, I open the door and buckle her in, then jog to my side and slide inside. I pull the car out of its parking space and head toward her ridiculous mansion.
“Where—going?” she mumbles, her face snuggled in my jacket.
“I am taking you home, like I said I would,” I explain, and she scrunches up her face.
“No home.” She shakes her head.
“Yes, home.” I nod.
“No,” she says more firmly, then sighs and peeks her giant blue eyes over the black leather. “Mother will be upset. It’s late, I’m seeing leprechauns everywhere, and she doesn’t like you.”
“Leprechauns?” I laugh.
“G-uh-reyyyyy,” she whines.
“She won’t even notice you’re drunk. Just rush up the stairs. Say you’re not feeling well, and she can fuck off. I’ll drop you off a block away or something.”
She doesn’t even try to think about my plan. Just shakes her head frantically like she can get rid of it that way, face unrecognizably twisted up. “Too much tequila, she’ll sniff it. Like, like a bloodhound. Great nose.”
I laugh loudly, gripping the wheel. “Of course she’d have a hellhound nose.”
“I said bloodhound.”
“Does it matter?” I glance at her, and she actually stops to think, then shakes her head with a cheeky shrug.
“Not really. A big ol’ mean dog either way,” she says, and I laugh even louder.
“You’re really funny when you’re drunk,” I te
ll her, and she grins.
But then she turns the words in her head and pouts so adorably, I am tempted to reach over and pinch her cheeks. “Wait, what about when I’m sober?”
I shrug and hold back half a smile. “Eh.”
“Rude!” She reaches over the center console and jabs her finger at my cheek.
“Settle down, girlie.” I swat her small hand away from my face and push her away from me without looking away from the road. I know how That Night still affects her, and I want to get her to safety. Not in another accident that will turn around and scar me.
After a few minutes, she pipes up, “I’m hungry.”
“What do you want to eat?” I ask, playing with my bottom lip.
She doesn’t respond.
I glance at her and see she’s staring at me. “What?” I laugh, a little uneasy. She can be pretty unpredictable when she’s drunk. Last time, she tried to eat me. And now she’s admitting she’s hungry again…you do the math. She might be thinking about lunging at me and eating my face like a petite zombie.
“Nothing,” she finally says, then giggles and “whispers” under her breath, “Totally lying.”
I roll my eyes and smile at her childish-ness. “What do you want to eat?”
“You,” she says, and I look at her, kind of thrown off guard. But then she giggles again, tries to—but fails—to hide it, and declares, “I would like some of the Fro’sYo.”
“One…froy’syo? Coming up,” I say, and she claps her hands. I can’t even hold back laughter on that one.
We arrive a few minutes later, and I lead her into the FroYo place. There isn’t that long of a line, since it is around one in the morning. And whoever is in the small place are partiers who are feeling the same weird craving for sweet yogurt, sorry, FroYo. What a stupid fucking term. Why not just say frozen yogurt? And why even eat the crap in the first place? Isn’t it the same shit as ice cream? Hipster people, I swear.
I step off to the side when my phone begins to ring. “Order what you want,” I tell Liv, and she nods so frantically, I think her head is going to snap off like a bobble-head figure. I smile at how cute she is but snap back into reality. “What do you want?” I snap into the phone.
“I could do without the sass, thank you,” Jaimie says.
I roll my eyes and pinch my nose bridge. “Again, what do you want?”
“I want to know that my friend is safe and sound,” she replies.
I scoff and slap my hand to my side. “As if I’d hurt her.”
She scoffs for the longest time. “Do you want to go down the ever-growing list of times you hurt her?”
I sigh and run my tongue between my lips. “No, I would not. What’s up?”
“I’m gonna need you to bring her to your house. I would say bring her to Noah’s, but his mother’s good friends with Liv’s and would rat her out. And her mother’s home and she will put her under lock and key if she sees her daughter trashed and coming home with the likes of you,” she says, straightforward.
“Um, ouch?” I refer to the last part.
“Oh, don’t be a puss. You know it’s true.”
“I guess…” I trail and glance over my shoulder to make sure Liv is all right. I gasp, finding her taking shots of sprinkles in tiny paper cups. “Liv!” She stops halfway through a cup and looks at me like a puppy caught eating from a cookie jar. “Stop taking sprinkle shots and order your damn yogurt!”
She is silent, un-moving…then bursts into tears. Actual tears!
“Jesus Christ…” I mumble, rubbing my face.
“Is that a baby crying?” Jaimie questions, confused.
“Yeah, I’ll get her to my place and make sure she’s fine,” I promise, then hang up before she can go off into a rant. She doesn’t particularly like me at the moment, but it’s very understandable. I’ve been a major dick, well, more than usual.
“Miss, you can’t take shots of the sprinkles,” a young girl behind the counter chastises, unsure if Liv’s a mad woman.
I take the half-eaten sprinkle cup from Liv’s hands, place it on the counter, and point a finger at her and sternly say, “No more sprinkle shots.” I nod to the girl with the poofy ponytail and say, “Order what you want.”
“Anything?” she squeals, biting her lip.
I think I just died and went to heaven.
I can’t even hold back a little of my grin at my girl as I nod. “Anything,” I confirm.
“Yay!” She starts jumping up and down. She rushes over to the glass case of yogurt and toppings and begins pointing out what she wants. “I want strawberry flavor, gummy bears, chocolate chips, like, lots of chocolate chips, and sprinkles, like, looooots of sprinkles.” She grabs my hand and pulls me over, jabbing the glass. “Tell her I want sprinkles, Grey, tell her!”
“Sprinkles, lots of sprinkles,” I emphasize, widening my eyes.
“Got it,” the girl says, obviously creeped out by this beautiful nineteen-year-old girl acting like she’s nine.
Liv bounces around, mumbling something about a sprinkle-fort in her stomach as her FroYo is made.
I laugh so hard I feel my muscles burn, but I couldn’t give less of a shit.
The girl makes her order, and I pay for it. We leave, and I make sure to buckle her in before slipping into the car. She eats the entire thing on the way to my house. When I pull up to the house and park in my spot, I look over and burst out in laughter, I almost cry. Her entire mouth is nearly covered in pink-colored yogurt and sprinkles.
“Aw, babe, you made a bit of a mess,” I coo mockingly, reaching over and swiping some onto my finger.
She stares at me with dark eyes, her tongue swiping over her lips, catching most of the yogurt.
“You look better than the Fro’sYo,” she whispers.
“What?” I let my lips slide into a smirk, because I know she is so fucking gone and will not remember any of this tomorrow.
She stares at me with a hungry gaze for a few more seconds, then bursts into a nervous kind of fake laughter. “Totes kidding…” She laughs for a long time, and I just smirk at her, amazed at how her drunk-self is coming on to me. Which means this is what she really wants, me, because her sober-self would never say or do any of this with me. Not without overthinking until her brain fries.
“Sure you are.” I wink at her, and she completely gushes, hand over heart and teeth clipping onto her mouth. I laugh a little, then swing out of the car and round it. I open her door and help her out, stabilizing her as she wobbles. But when she continues to stumble and nearly bust her ass, I decide to just lift her up and walk her into the house for the rest of the way.
“Yay, I’m on a ride! Wheeee!” she cries out as I go up the stairs.
“Quiet, princesa,” I hush her, but I don’t give a fuck if she wakes anyone. She can be as loud as she wants; she deserves it the way I’ve been such an asshole to her. I struggle opening the door with her bouncing like an over-excited child in my arms. I finally get it open and kick it closed. I walk into my room and throw her onto the bed.
She screams and descends into a huge fit of giggles. I smile as I kick off my boots and take off my shirt.
“I’ll get you some water,” I tell her, and she nods, squirming out of her jeans.
I bite my lip and watch as they fly off, leaving her in a pair of white panties and showing off her short but silky legs.
“Hot,” is all she says, looking like a fucking sex-goddess with her hair curly and disheveled, my jacket nearly swallowing her, and eyes dark, lips swollen from the numerous times she’s bitten them.
Don’t fuck her, don’t fuck her—she is intoxicated. Do. Not. Fuck. Her.
“Oh, fuck me,” I mutter, feeling the front of my pants get tighter each second she smiles at me with an innocent look, but damn if she knows what she is doing. Fucking minx…
I turn around and leave before I can do anything, and I mean anything to please this fucker down south. As I grab the bottled water, I close my eyes and take
a deep breath with my forehead against the cold surface. “She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she is fucking drunk,” I chant over and over, until I feel myself cool down. I wet a paper towel to clean her face. I push off the fridge and walk back into the room.
I stop at the door and grin. She is face planting on the bed, limbs bent at odd angles. She’s passed out. I jump into action and try to take the jacket off of her so she’ll sleep better, but she basically growls at me. I laugh and raise my hands defensively. I then wipe away the lingering yogurt and sprinkles around her mouth until she’s clean, then toss the mess in the garbage bin by the door. I grab the sheet and cover her body. I begin to sneak out so she can have the whole bed to herself, but she grabs my wrist and yanks me to the bed, whispering in my face, still very much asleep, “Stay…” then lets out a little burp, a pause, then a very faint whisper, “Too much tequie…”
“Oh, Liv.” I laugh but slide into bed next to her after taking off my jeans. I stay on the far side of the bed, but she growls again, crawls over to me, and latches onto me like a newborn koala.
“Better,” she sighs, then snuggles her face in my neck, tongue pressed against my skin, and hair completely covering my face.
“Liv,” I groan with a little laugh. But even with hair getting caught in my mouth and getting hot in general, I fall asleep like a baby and have the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time.
Chapter Nine
Liv
The next morning, I wake to the brutal sounds of banging pans and loud music. I cover my ears, but the sound drills through my palm, having no chance to keep out the wretched sounds. My head feels like it’s on a wooden stick and is being twirled around on top of a campfire. I make the mistake of opening my eyes, because the burning sunlight pours through the blinds and nearly makes me blind.
Oh jeez…how much did I drink last night?
I sit up on my elbows and feel my head tilt to the side. I close my eyes and try my best to block out the noise. But when I realize this won’t be happening, I push the heavy comforter to the side and gasp at what my eyes take in. My jeans are missing, leaving me in my underwear and a leather jacket…that’s it. But when I sit up against the headboard and raise my arms, assessing the light leather, I spot a familiar “G” on the left breast of it.
Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4) Page 6
