Forever Together (Forever Love #2) (9 page)

"Huh. So I've been going through life with this squinty thing going on and nobody thought to tell me?" Bitches!

"If we told you, then you'd stop doing it."

I sigh and go back to my seat as Liv starts pouring different stuff into a jug.

"I hate LA." All movement in the room ceases as if they’re totally shocked despite the fact they knew I was lying. "I hate college, I hate my roommate who by way is a devil worshipper or something, I hate my life there."

"I think we'll need more vodka for this conversation."

I stare at my hands not really knowing what else to say. There are so many reasons why I’m unhappy with my life at the moment and College is only one of them. Being back in Franklin is like another world compared to LA. Franklin seems all bright and sunny and LA, grey and dark.

"Ok, so basically I don’t have any idea how to make these so it could very well taste like shit." Liv places two highball glasses filled with... Something.

"Are you sure that’s a Mojito? It doesn’t look like one boo."

I can only shake my head alongside Trina, my face up close to the glass containing the weird orangey brown liquid.

"What’s it got in it?" I ask.

"Vodka, rum, some wine and whiskey... Oh and some soda!"

"Aren’t Mojitos supposed to have lime in?"

"Huh, I totally forgot about that." Liv shrugs. "I guess it isn’t a mojito then. Oh! It’s a Livito."

"Oh just give that here boo." Trina rolls her eyes, grabs the glass and eyes it suspiciously. She moves her hand through her curly hair, no longer the afro she had when I first met her, instead, a curly mass of dark hair just past her shoulders. "If I die I just want you girls to know that I love ya'll." With those words she throws her head back and tips the contents down her throat, her eyes squinting shut.

I bite my lip waiting for the inevitable projectile vomiting. The glass is slammed back onto the marble worktop.

"Well?"

"It’s strong." She wheezes out. "I’m pretty sure I drank pure unfiltered alcohol. Are you sure you put soda in?"

"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 arguing 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.