Forever Together (Forever Love #2)

by Jade Whitfield

  "Uh huh, look." Liv holds up the glass jug containing the Livito in one hand and a can of soda in the other.

  "You used one can of soda in all of that!"

  "Take a fucking chill pill. Cindy, bottoms up." Liv follows Trina in necking her drink and I squeeze my eyes shut doing the same.

  I’m not sure if it’s actually liquid running down my throat or fire. The burning sensation starts right from my mouth and spreads through my whole body warming me up.

  "Wow." I know that my eyes are like saucers and I cough a few times after that strong sour taste. "That might just be the worst thing I've ever tasted."

  "Well, we got a whole jug of it so I hope you girls have got room for more."

  ***

  Why am I dancing on the dining room table? Oh, I know. I am totally fucking drunk. I can’t even stop the giggles right now as I show Liv and Trina my version of 'Gangnam Style'. I know that I’m either gonna end up breaking my neck or ending up on YouTube somewhere, but who cares ? !

  "We totally need to put this shit on YouTube!" Liv shouts, clapping her hands.

  "I’ve already been on there with my eyes like dirt and my Batman hair." I snort at the embarrassing memory that right now seems more funny than humiliating.

  "I know! I know!" Trina jumps from her seat, her hand shooting upwards as if she’s in class. "Let’s re-enact it."

  "Oh my god that’s the best idea you've ever had!" I scream, jumping up and down on the incredibly strong table. Seriously how is it even still standing? Hell, how am I still standing?

  I hear the slam of a door in the distance as Psy's song restarts.

  "Go Cindy, it’s your birthday." Trina starts twitching her shoulders and Liv starts doing the robot.

  "WHAT THE FUCK!" The familiar voice has me stopping mid move which unfortunately is with one leg up in the air and my hands in front. Not a good move for a drunk chick to do.

  "Bra-" I don’t finish the word, instead, I let out a little yelp as my balance is lost and I start heading to the floor.

  I close my eyes tightly waiting for the impact that could very well have me looking like Quasimodo in my bridesmaid dress. I land with a humph in two strong arms instead.

  "Seriously Cinders, I know I said I'd always catch you, but I don’t think you should be jumping on tables."

  I look up into the chocolate pools and melt. I’m not sure if the fall has knocked the drunkenness outta me but those few seconds of utter fear have definitely sobered me up some. Now I just feel nauseous and slightly dizzy.

  "What the fuck have you girls been drinking?" Brady smirks and I bite my lip at the sight.

  "NOAH!" Liv screams, running at her fiancé and throwing her arms and legs around him.

  "Woah babe!"

  "Shit man, they must have been on some lethal shit for blondie to be smashed." Brady says, his voice rolling over me and causing my body to heat up.

  "We had a Livito." Liv unwinds herself from Noah and puts her hands on her hips in a proud pose.

  "A Livito?"

  "Don’t tell them shit boo." Trina hisses. "They’re the boring police, they'll confiscate our shit and stop us getting our boogie on."

  "I never thought I’d see the day that Brady was one of the maturest people in a room." Noah smirks.

  "Fuck you, bro."

  "Ok girls, the party’s over. Time to go to bed."

  "Oooh kinky."

  "To sleep, Trina."

  "Party pooper." She pouts.

  "Come on Cinders. Let’s get you to bed." I feel myself lifted as if I weigh no more than a bag of sugar. It would look totally romantic if my legs weren’t flailing about the place.

  "You gonna be ok with her dude?" My face is busy taking in the scent of Brady’s shirt and frankly, I’m feeling way too sick to even start any crap about being my own woman and making my own decisions. I just stay quiet and carry on rubbing my face against the soft cotton.

  "Sure bro." I feel the hard chest constrict with the rumble of his voice.

  "Cindy, you rock girl. Noah I think we should get Cindy to dance at the wedding."

  "YOUTUBE! YOUTUBE! YOUTUBE!" Trina chants.

  "Oh for fucks sake, why me?" Noah groans

  "See ya bro. Bye girls." Brady shouts, followed by a deep rumbling laugh, his body vibrating.

  At this point, I’m not sure if Brady thinks I’m passed out but he hasn’t put me down and if I’m honest, I don’t want him to. I’d much rather be carried in his strong arms, lying my head against his hard chest and taking in the smell of him which is so... Bradylicious!

  Ok, maybe I’m not totally sober and that realization terrifies me. I think I’m in between stages in terms of my intoxication. The stages being buzzed drunk and slurring my words drunk. It doesn’t matter what stage I’m in though, I’m Cindy and Cindy has a terrible habit of having oral diarrhea when she drinks. The whole thinking of myself in the third person? Yeah, that’s a new habit.

  I can feel the cool breeze blowing through my hair which is not the sleek shiny mane it was this morning. It probably resembles a bird’s nest right now. I nuzzle my face slightly into the crook of Brady’s neck without even realizing, my teeth bite into my cheek the second I clock onto what I’m doing and my brain mentally pleads to God that Brady hasn’t noticed.

  I can now feel the beat of his heart against my cheek and it’s quickening up. It's probably because of having to cart me about the place. I should probably tell him I can walk, that he’s being nice enough taking me home and he doesn’t need to carry me. I’m not going to though.

  I feel his arm adjust under my butt, coming scarily close to one of my ass cheeks and heat flares through me. I’m working with like four senses here seeing as though my face is basically buried in Brady’s neck. Those senses are already impaired by the booze.

  I feel myself moving in his arms and land on the soft leather car seat, Brady’s hand stuck in a very awkward position underneath me. We both freeze, I can practically feel him tense up as well as myself and just as I’m about the shift to end the torture, he pulls it out from under me. I open one eye, peeking out to see Brady’s tongue caught in between his teeth and his brow furrowed in that adorable way it does when he’s concentrating or confused. I don’t know what I do to gain his attention but his eyes fly to my own, dancing with amusement.

  "Gotta tie you in Cinders." He whispers, pulling the belt and leaning across me, clicking it.

  I don’t know if it’s delayed sight after drinking so much but he seems to pull back so slowly, his face brushing against my hair and my cheek. He stops and his nose is only a couple of inches away from my own. His hand comes up to my face and I can feel myself holding a breath, my eyes almost closed.

  "You're a real fucking beauty, you know that Cinders?"

  Again, I give my bottom lip a nibble, not knowing what else to say. Part of me wants to run from this, run and hide. The other part, thankfully the more dominant part wants to stay and wait it out, see what happens. His face is so near to mine that I can feel his breath roll over my lips. It sounds as shallow as my own. His eyes drop to my lips and I hitch a breath, knowing Brady, knowing what his next move is.

  I wait, resisting the urge to pucker my lips and wait for the sensation of his touching mine. Instead, I watch as he takes a deep breath and pulls back.

  "Better get you home." He gives a small smile and I almost scream in frustration.

  He pulls out of the car and slams the door shut, the sound of metal against metal drown ing s out my own groan. What the heck is wrong with me? I should be listening to the currently less dominant part of my brain and running in the opposite direction. No, not me, I can’t be listening to the smart part of my mind, that'd just be way too easy. I practically roll my eyes at the thought. I’m about to be in an enclosed space with my ex-boyfriend who I may or may not still be hung up on. If I knew this would happen I would have had way more to drink.

  I should probably be pissed but I’m too tired to even start argui
ng with Brady. It’s been six months after all, he’s probably moved on... multiple times. Ok, if I wanted a surefire way to make myself throw up that'd be it.

  The driver side door opens and Brady jumps right up with ease, way more than I would have anyway. I can just imagine shuffling my way in, probably dragging myself up and grabbing anything in reaching distance to help me out. This is why I’m never gonna drive a truck, definitely one of my smarter decisions. This car ride on the other hand, not so much.

  "Let’s get you home then. You feeling sick?" The way his head slightly bows with concern and his eyes meet mine makes me want to cry. That'd be just great!

  "A little." I whimper out with a high-pitched squeak.

  "Well, tell me if you're gonna throw up and I'll pull over, ok?"

  I nod and press the little button on the passenger side door for the window to wind down. The engine roars to life, the seat underneath me vibrating with the power of it. Brady’s bare arms flex when turning the steering wheel to navigate the truck out of the driveway. The swerving of the vehicle combined with the steady vibrations causes my head to spin, my stomach to roll, and bile to work its way up my throat. I swallow it down and lean my head out of the open window. The cold evening breeze takes my breath away and dries the beads of sweat that have gathered on my forehead.

  "We're almost there but if you feel like you need to puke..."

  "Uh huh." I nod, my eyes squeezed shut.

  I’m now practically panting, my forehead is slicked with sweat and my body feels like it’s on fire. Who knew that just stopping yourself from throwing up could take so much effort? Just when I think I can’t hold it in anymore, the truck comes to a stop. I turn and look past Brady’s head to see the familiar house. The window in the den is lit up so at least someone’s still awake.

  "So..." Brady starts but I can’t even listen.

  I throw the door open and attempt to jump out only to be yanked back by the seatbelt holding me in, I fumble with it until it unclasps. Finally free, I jump from the truck which is higher than I expected. Oh crap! My ankle goes over itself as soon as the sole of my foot hit’s the floor, the heel of my shoe crunching and I land on my ass. I am officially in hell. My ankle throbs but I ignore the pain and place with my hands on the rough concrete in front of me, the small stones digging into my palms. The control I've kept throughout the car ride has finally gone and I start to retch, my whole body shaking. The Livito I was throwing down my throat earlier goes flying out of my mouth, splattering all over the road.

  "Shit! Cindy?" I feel one hand on my back and the other pulling my hair out of my face. There’s no point though, it’s too late and I can feel the wetness of it as it brushes on my neck.

  I officially want the ground to swallow me up. Not only have I just exited Brady’s truck in the most embarrassing fashion, but I’m now puking in the middle of the street. I don’t think I ever even did this in High School. Let’s just say, if I wake up tomorrow with no memory of tonight, I won’t be sorry.

  Tears are running down my cheeks and if I didn’t have panda eyes before, I definitely do now. I’m a hot mess. My throat constricts again and more liquid rushes out of my mouth.

  The hand rubbing soothing circles on my back halts for a second when I gag before carrying on. I could cry with how shit I feel. Hell, I may already be doing that seeing as my cheeks are soaked with tears. Judging by how much sick is coming up, I must have drunk a hell of a lot.

  "I’m s-sorry." I sob pathetically.

  "What am I gonna do with you, huh? I don’t think there’s anyone else in the fucking world as clumsy as you Cinders." I let out a laugh that sounds a lot more like some kind of dying animal. M m y throat is all scratchy and sore and my head just droop lay s down, my chin touching my chest. "Come here." I’m hoisted back up into his arms and I gingerly put my arms around his neck, leaning my head on his strong shoulder.

  My body bounces with every step he takes and before I know it, he walks right on in the house, not pausing to even knock.

  "Yo! A little help here." He calls out, his voice ricocheting through my head.

  "Oh God." I mumble, bringing a hand to my temple and rubbing in circles the way my Mom always used to do when I had a headache.

  "Brady? Are you ok? What are you..." I can hear my Mom's voice but it seems far away. "Oh my! Cindy, what’s wrong?"

  Brady stays silent which seems like the smart thing to do. I wish I could do the smart thing. Instead, here I am, practically stumbling through the door like a High School amateur. Never will I accept a drink from Liv again. Never ever again.

  "She erm-"

  "What’s that smell?" My Mom interrupts and I if I thought the last few minutes were embarrassing, that just took the humiliation scale through the roof.

  "Cindy had a little bit to drink, I don’t think it suited her." I can feel Brady’s chest tense after he talks, as if he’s waiting for the inevitable blast.

  "She's drunk! Oh my Lord, what did she have to drink? She looks terrible." Oh great, so I smell bad and , look terrible, talk about kicking someone when they’re down.

  "A Livito?" Brady answers.

  "A what?"

  His shoulder shrugs underneath my head and I groan. I’m so tired. Maybe I can just go to sleep right here. It’s pretty comfortable and I don’t think Brady needs to be anywhere. I giggle to myself with my own thoughts, forgetting that there are two other people in the room.

  "Well, she can’t go back in Bailey's room."

  "That’s where she’s sleeping?" Brady grinds out as if he’s pissed. About what though I don’t know.

  "Yes, Brady." My Mom's tone is clipped. "This is a big family and a little house. Jim's doing the attic out for her though."

  "The attic?" I wince at the rise in Brady’s voice. I haven’t got the energy to try and stop this train wreck waiting to happen so I just lay there quietly pretending I’m asleep like the conflict avoider I am.

  "Uh huh." I know that tone. I’m sure my Mom's got her hands on her hips and is looking at Brady with a raised eyebrow daring him to say something else.

  There’s a God awful silence that just makes me wish for actual sleep to take me. I feel like cheering when Brady finally ends it.

  "She hurt her ankle I think falling outta my truck."

  "Oh, well bring her to the couch and I’ll take a look at it."

  I snuggle a little deeper into Brady, absorbing all of his body heat and even though I’m already practically baking, I accept it eagerly. It feels warm. Safe. I keep my eyes squeezed shut even when I’m placed onto the couch. I’m sure I’m totally obvious but nobody says anything to me, My Mom's dainty fingers feel around my ankle which thankfully doesn’t hurt anymore which is a good sign.

  "She’s fine. Being drunk probably helped the fall, relaxes the muscles." She sighs. "I think Avery’s still up so I'll go get her to go into Bailey's room and Cindy can take her bed."

  "Are you sure she can be on her own? What if she throws up in her sleep or some sh... something and chokes on her own puke? Maybe I should stay and keep an eye on her?" Brady’s voice seems panicked and I feel like crying knowing why that is.

  "She'll be fine Brady, don’t worry. I'll check on her through the night. I'll be back in a minute."

  My hair is brushed away from my head and judging by the size of the fingers, I’m guessing it’s my Mom. I listen to her retreating footsteps and then tense up realizing Brady and I are alone again. I resist the urge to pop one eye open in case, you know, he catches me. That'd just be even more embarrassing. My hair is brushed away from my head again and I can feel Brady’s warm breath roll over my cheek.

  "She’s gone. You can open your eyes now." How the hell did he know? Ok, I know I’m not gonna win any Oscars but was it really that obvious? Probably.

  I open my eyes, the light from the lamp almost like a torch being shone in onto my face. That’s how it feels anyway. Brady’s face is not even five inches away from my own and his shimmering brown eyes s
eem as if they’re taking my whole face in.

  "How'd you get so beautiful Cinders?" I do the most stupid thing ever and shrug. "I missed you."

  My throat is clogged up, but not with vomit this time. The truth is, I missed him too. So much. Christ, for those first few weeks it felt like I'd lost a limb as well as my heart. He rubs his rough hand against on my cheek and I nuzzle my face into it, desperate for more contact. I’m not sure if it’s the booze but right now I just wanna crawl inside his body so that I can be with him always.

  "It's not been the same without you." He whispers, the gentleness of his voice making me want to burst out crying and blubber on the shoulder I was just lying on.

  I stay silent, not trusting my own voice and emotions. I’m pretty sure I've shown myself up enough for one night.

  He looks into my eyes, his own conveying so much emotion but with the state I’m in at the moment, I don’t know if I can trust it. Maybe I’m seeing things. Maybe my drunkenness is making me see things I want to see. It’s been six months after all, there’s no way he's been moping around for months. I can’t stop or even control my heart that quickens up or my stomach that’s tingling with the thought that maybe he has.

  "Oh, you’re awake!" My Mom's voice interrupts and I feel my eyes widen. I pull away from Brady with lightning speed to see my Mom with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. "Rooms ready. I figure it's best if Bailey doesn’t get drunk off the fumes you're letting off at the minute honey, so you're in Avery’s bed tonight. There’s a bucket next to it in case you need to throw up again. Come on, let's get you upstairs and in to bed to sleep this off."

  "I'll do it." Brady rushes out and my head swings around the face him. "Come on, Cinders." I’m lifted in to the air again and the thought of being alone in a bedroom with Brady has goosebumps r a ising and a little shiver travels through my body. Alcohol obviously turns me into a hormonal mess.

  I clutch onto his shirt as he navigates around my very smarmy looking Mother and carries me up the stairs as if I weigh no more than a newborn baby. His strength is definitely a huge turn on. My cheeks are burning up and I’m sure if Brady was looking down at me instead of in front, he'd know exactly what I’m thinking. He'd probably get that arrogant smirk on his face he always used to get when he knew I was...