“Concerned are they? Hey, Blake, another round please!” Blake the bartender poured us each another shot.
“Monica, this is bullshit. I’m in loooove with Bo.” The fourth shot was finding its way in to my speech.
“Yea?”
“Bitch-of-it-is, I can’t jump all over him when he gets in here because Adrian mother-fucking Turner is with him. And Josh is a dick, Monica - a total dickless dick,” I garbled.
“Ha ha ha. Yea.” Monica’s eyes started to gloss over and she was swaying to the beat of a song in her head. “And, don’t forget, Adrian still loooooves you!” She pointed at me and giggled before her eyes shot to the door.
“Super, the three musketeers are here!” I mocked. “Come on, screw them.” I dragged Monica to Lost Dog’s excuse of a dance floor.
I positioned myself so I could see Josh, Bo, and Adrian standing all cross-armed against the bar while Monica and I shook it like it was our last night to shake it. It took the last semi-sober look I had left in me to gauge their reactions.
Josh looked rather like a deer in the headlights. Monica hadn’t so much as looked at him at Finnegan’s, and I guessed that this was the first time they’d been in the same room since their break up. Adrian smiled in amusement at our display, but his face seemed to retain a bit of the emotion from our conversation on the beach. My observation pivoted to Bo, and our eyes locked as he stood uncomfortably to the side of Adrian. Despite the dim lighting and my profuse buzz, I could tell his clenched jaw held the worry his face couldn’t - not in front of Adrian.
“Look at them. What are we, property? Poor Bo, look at his face.” Monica made a puppy-dog face and I smacked her arm.
“Poor Bo? You were just telling me all about the paper-perfectness of me and Adrian!” I shouted through dance moves.
“Oh, Ember, whatever. You’ve got two men who love you; champagne problems, sister.”
“Come, we need more drink.” I walked us intentionally to the side of our self-appointed guardians.
“Gentlemen.” I nodded with a mocking smile. I was starting to feel the extra-snarky confidence that comes from so much alcohol.
I slipped between Adrian and Bo and asked the bartender for two more shots.
“Wait!” Monica shouted over me. “Make it five!”
I handed shots to a relieved-looking Josh, and Adrian - the always willing participant in all things booze, before turning to Bo.
“No thanks, I’m set.” Bo held up his hands.
I shrugged and swallowed his shot, followed immediately by mine, before slamming the glasses back on the bar. His hand gripped above my elbow as he breathed into my neck.
“Don’t do this.” His voice bristled with anger, making me a little uncomfortable and, therefore, angry.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed in his ear, yanking my arm out of his grip.
“Turner clearly dumped something on you. I can see it on his face and yours. I’ll step back while you deal with it.” The matter-of-fact way the words rolled off his tongue threw my head back, and filled my eyes with tears.
“Just like that, huh?” Bo’s willingness to stand down raised a red flag of betrayal in my drunken head. I realized in that moment that I was seeking for him to remind me why I loved him, and not Adrian. This wasn’t helping.
Bo reached for my arm again, but I yanked it away - instantly hoping Adrian didn’t notice the awkward exchange. I stumbled back to the dance floor with six shots in my system.
The heady combination of liquor and men blended my brain in to a vortex of bad decisions. I grinded with faceless strangers like I was back in the AXP house in college; it felt so good to scatter my sexuality on the dance floor and watch men clamor to scoop it up. Sooner than I’d hoped, my rapid alcohol consumption caught up with me and I stopped dancing. When the floor kept moving, I knew it was time to go.
“You OK?” Monica slurred in to my direction.
“No, and neither are you. Let’s get out of here.”
We stagger-danced our way to the door and poured ourselves out onto the sidewalk, bracing ourselves briefly against the brick exterior wall. My head was spinning wildly.
One . . .two . . .three . . . Adrian, Josh, and Bo followed behind us almost immediately, taking stock of the situation with their eyes.
“You ladies need to get home,” Adrian asserted as he dug in his pocket for his keys.
“Come on, Mon,” Josh encouraged as he reached for her, causing her to flinch backward.
“Don’t you touch her,” I snarled, slapping his hand away. “You lost your right to do that days ago Josh.” Monica gave me an appreciative smile as Josh stood there looking helpless. He ran his hand through his hair.
“What the fuck, Ember? What do you want me to do, leave her here on the sidewalk?” His voice was slightly louder than I cared for.
“What I want you to do, Josh, is leave us alone and go work on finding your thousand lifetimes somewhere else. I promise you it’s not on this sidewalk.” My resentment bored through his eyes. Josh and Bo exchanged an uncomfortable glance that, thankfully, escaped Adrian.
Josh swallowed hard, turned on his heels, and walked away with his head down. For a split second I felt bad for him, until I saw the tears streaming down Monica’s face.
“Thank you,” she managed, “If you weren’t here I probably would have let the asshole take me home and made a fool out of myself trying to get him in to bed.”
As I made a move to walk toward her, dizziness overhauled my brain. I swayed too far to one side and fell toward the sidewalk.
“Shit, November!” Bo’s voice cut through the haze just before his hand grabbed my forearm, yanking me upward and into his chest. “Dammit,” he exhaled into my hair. “Are you OK?”
“Yea. Sorry.” I left my forehead on his chest while I grappled for some sort of equilibrium.
“Nice save, man.” Adrian’s voice confused me at first, as if I was having a dream, forgetting he was in my real life again. “I’ll get her home.”
“It’s OK, Adrian, Bo can drive me.” Regret slapped my drunken mouth.
“Ember, don’t be crazy, you know I’d never let you leave with a guy you barely know. I’ll take you and Monica home. Catch up with you tomorrow, Cavanaugh.” Adrian looked at me like I was crazy before wrapping his arm tightly around my waist, guiding my arm around his broad shoulders. Monica fell into his other arm.
Adrian’s words twisted Bo’s face in angst. What was he to do? He couldn’t chase after me without revealing everything to Adrian, causing a host of problems for everyone involved. No, he had to stand on the sidewalk and watch as I stumbled to the parking lot in the arms of Adrian Turner.
I chanced a glance backward before getting into Adrian’s car; Bo pressed his forehead on the brick building and thumped his hand listlessly against it once, before turning and walking back into the bar. If my ears weren’t ringing I’m sure I would have heard a testosterone-filled growl.
I started pointing the way to my apartment when Monica insisted we drop her at her place. She said the heated exchange between Josh and I sobered her up quicker than she would have liked. I shrugged and guided Adrian. As Adrian walked Monica up her stairs, I pulled out my phone. My drunken ambivalence to Adrian’s personal escort was boiling into anger as I thought about Bo walking back into the bar. Thumbing for his number, I wondered if he went back in to the bar to get drunk. Maybe he went home with someone. I hit send.
“November,” Bo answered in a tone so clipped I couldn’t tell yet if he was drunk. Or with anyone.
“Bowan.” Brazen. That’s what I was going for.
“November, where are you? Are you OK?” Anxiety and concern absorbed his voice.
“You, Spencer Bowan Cavanaugh, know precisely where I am. I am in the front seat of a very nice BMW that, incidentally, belongs to one Adrian Turner.” I paused for a minute.
“You. You just stood there . . .” While I knew it wasn’t fair to accuse him o
f abandoning me, I was livid at his assumption that I had things to work out with Adrian.
“Are you going back to your apartment?” He was nearly yelling out in frustration. Or concern. Or both.
“Adrian’s going to take me wherever he’s going to take me, Bo. Thanks to you.”
Wow, that was cold Ember. Even for you.
“I was trying to respect your privacy. I don’t know what you and Adrian talked about, and I’ve already been accused once of peeing on your leg - as you put it. I couldn’t do it Ember, I couldn’t go face-to-face with Adrian about who was going to take you home in front of everyone on the sidewalk.” I thought his voice cracked, but the liquor scrambled my signal.
“Oh really? Not even with the power of a thousand lifetimes behind you?” I turned off my phone and threw it into my clutch with renewed resolve.
Adrian climbed back in to his car, giving me a curious once over.
“Monica’s fine. You look pissed, though. You ok?”
“Just drunk as hell, Adrian . . . take me home.” I don’t care how that sounded.
“As you wish.” He smiled. Oh, you think you know what I meant.
Adrian pulled up to my building and opened the car door for me, since I evidently lacked the capacity to do so in my current state. It wasn’t until I stood up that I felt the full effects of my foolishness, and stumbled for the second time. Adrian caught this pass.
“Whoa,” he forced through gritted teeth as he righted me. “Let’s take it slow on the stairs. Take off those ridiculous shoes and hand them to me.” I did as he asked. Damn, he’s being rather thoughtful.
Adrian led me up the stairs just as he had away from the bar, his solid arm secured around my waist. I took the opportunity to breathe in his scent once more.
“Mmm.”
“What?” He looked at me from the corner of his espresso eyes.
Crap, I said that out loud? “Nothing.” I let my head rest on his shoulder.
“Hold on as tight as you can.” He said gently, as if he was talking to a child which, really, is how I was behaving.
When we reached my door, I pushed my clutch in to his stomach, his rock hard stomach. The door graciously supported me as Adrian unlocked it. He resumed his hold on me as he opened the door and flipped on the light.
“Thanks. You’re sweet,” I slurred into his ear as he set my heels by the door.
He walked me over to the couch and guided me down before heading to the kitchen. He returned with a large glass of water and sat down next to me.
“Drink this, ya drunk,” Adrian teased as I took the water from him. I rolled my eyes and took a huge gulp.
“Why are you being so nice?” I demanded, setting the glass down.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He seemed shocked by my question.
“I don’t know. I was just prepared for the smug bastard I worked you out to be in my head.” What little conversational filter I carried was long gone.
Adrian laughed and shook his head, looking at the floor.
“Smug bastard, huh? Well, I guess I deserve that after tracking you down and assuming you’d want to meet me for a drink.” He left his forearms on his knees and looked up at me, his face unreadable.
“That’s right you deserve it. Especially when you tell me you really loved me five years ago. Why would you say that?” I guzzled more water but still felt incredibly drunk.
“Because it’s true. And, I panicked. When I talked to Cavanaugh . . .” He stopped himself. What is it with these two and using each other’s’ last names only?
“When you talked to Bo, what?” Bo. See, filter gone.
“I think he likes you, Ember.” His eyes squared in complete seriousness.
“Do you now? And what would make you say something like that?”
Besides the fact you’ve had song sex, real sex, and he feels like he’s known you for . . .never mind.
“I could tell tonight. He had this look on his face when you and Monica tore out of Finnegan’s, and again when he saw you at the other place.” Adrian struggled to find the words.
“It’s like he was protective of you, like he was seeing the stars for the first time, or something.” His mouth took on a disappointed frown.
“When the hell did you become an expert face reader, and poet, Adrian ‘all the ladies want me’ Turner?” I was anxious for his answer.
“Because, November, it’s the same look I saw when I looked in the mirror every single day that I was with you.”
Oh.
“Adrian, I . . .”
“Come on, you need to get to bed.” He stood quickly and held out his hand.
I held his hand all the way to my bedroom and, for a second, it felt like the old “us.” Unexpectedly, he turned toward the window as I unabashedly took off my pants and
crawled into my bed.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before, Turner,” I deadpanned. He didn’t respond. When I drew the covers up, he turned around with his hands in his pockets.
“You’re so drunk. I don’t feel comfortable leaving, Ember.” The poor boy looked tortured.
“So don’t,” I yawned and rolled over.
I patted the side of the bed next to me, and he obliged. Adrian removed his shoes, and nothing more, before climbing in to my bed and folding his hands behind his head. Instinctively, I rolled over and nuzzled into his chest. He sighed a conflicted huff, reached down, and stroked my hair. I suddenly wished Bo was with me, and I was again mad at him for not being there.
I clumsily propped myself up on one elbow and looked into Adrian’s eyes. The sexual tension between us was as palpable and undeniable as ever. The intensity of the moment overtook me; I leaned in, my lips reaching for his.
“Ember . . . Adrian pressed on my shoulder, stopping my downward motion.
“What?” I said rather petulantly.
“You’re drunk. Drunker than I ever remember seeing you. I can’t do that to you, and I can’t let you do it to yourself.”
His words were rather sobering, and my soul pulled itself out of the dark hole it had fallen into and mouthed thank you. Feeling only slightly defeated, I resumed my nuzzling of his chest; this I would not regret in the morning.
“Thank you.” I smiled up at him.
“For what?”
“Taking care of me tonight.” Sleep fell heavy on my eyes.
“Always.” He kissed the top of my head as I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
“Ow. What the . . . ? Ow.” I pulled the blanket down from my face, only to return it immediately at the brightness of the sun.
My memories of last night were thoroughly clouded. I recalled everything in precise detail up until the point Monica and I saw the guys walk into Lost Dog. From that point on it was just flashes of liquor and Lil’ Jon.
“How are you feeling?” A deep voice whispered from above my head, scaring the hell out of me.
“Shit!” I flew to a seated position and looked to my right, regretting the sudden move immediately. I grabbed my head in a weak attempt to ease the throbbing pain.
“Whoa, take it easy Em. I’m sure you’ve got a killer headache after last night’s performance.” Adrian smiled.
“Adrian?” I was squinting, trying to keep as much sunlight out of my eyes as possible.
“Ha! Ya, it’s me. Disappointed?” He coyly smiled as he accurately sensed my reaction. I took note that Adrian was fully dressed in the clothes he was wearing last night, save for his shoes, which were on the floor. I was wearing the same shirt, but my face flushed when I noticed my absence of pants from underneath my covers. I looked over at Adrian in horror.
“Where are my pants?” Classy question, Ember.
“You tossed them over there.” Adrian motioned to the other side of the bed with his hand.
“Oh. So, we didn’t . . .” God, could this be any more humiliating?
“No, Ember, we didn’t.” His voice was terse.
“Disappointed?
” I shot his previous question back at him.
“I’m disappointed you’d think so little of me, frankly.” He shook his head and swung his legs to the side of the bed. “We never even had drunk sex when we were together, Ember, What makes you think we’d start now?” He wasn’t looking at me so I couldn’t read his face.
“I’m sorry, last night is very fuzzy. Oh, damn, I was an awful bitch to Josh, wasn’t I?” I covered my eyes with my forearm and laid back down on the bed.
“Seemed like he deserved it a little,” Adrian chuckled. “ I’ll go make some coffee; come out when you’re ready. Take it easy when you stand.”
Suddenly, I remembered a lot about last night. I remembered yelling at Josh, Bo catching my concrete dive, leaving with Adrian, and then Adrian catching me. I shouldn’t wear those shoes anymore. My stomach dropped as I remembered yelling at Bo on the phone, and then trying to kiss Adrian in my bed. What a mess. I walked wearily to the kitchen, where I saw Adrian pouring coffee and checking his Blackberry.
“Seems like our boy Bo really has it bad for you.” Adrian smirked at his Blackberry.
This conversation feels familiar. Oh, yea, last night . . .
“What do you mean?” I wandered to the living room, recalling painfully that I had to be at work in an hour.
“He e-mailed your boss and told her that the four of us got together for a dinner meeting and we all got food poisoning. You’re off the hook for work today.” Adrian wore a wry smirk as he tucked his Blackberry back in to his khaki’s.
“That was thoughtful.” I tried passively.
“Yea, OK, we’ll go with thoughtful.” Adrian sat next to me on the couch.
“What’s your problem with Bo?”
He didn’t hesitate before he launched into his spiel. “First, you call him Bo, meaning you know him outside of work. Second, he likes you. Third, you like him. Those are my issues with Cavanaugh.
“Cutting right to the chase this morning, Council? First,” I retorted, “Monica and I happened to see Bo play at Finnegan’s last weekend. It wasn’t until Monday that we learned we’d be working together. Second, maybe he does. And third, maybe I do.” I shrugged, not breaking eye contact. Conversational filter clearly hung over, as well.
Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue) Page 13
