Holding On To Love (4 page)

I just shrugged, finished what was left of my beer and slammed the empty bottle on the table, "Aw— Fuck it!"

"Yeah. Fuck it!" She agreed, not knowing why I'd said it and handed me her beer. "I'm gonna go get us another one."

I sat and watched the couple on stage as they finished their dramatic conclusion of the Grease song and the bar filled with claps and whistles.

Why are you people clapping? Do you not have ears?

"Hey, Ally—" Bryan said, shrugging into the chair next to me looking nervous. "Uh...Well...Shit, I don't know how to say this, but Seth just ran into his ex. They got in a fight, so he left." Liar.

"Whatever, it's cool," I shrugged, palms in the air. Seriously, I'm fine. We obviously didn't hit it off, I'm not gonna lose sleep over it. Can we move on now?

Kennedy bounced back from the bar, plopped down onto Bryan's lap and handed me a beer. "Where's Seth?" She asked, searching the bar before looking down at Bryan.

I spoke up, irritation replacing my usual calm tone, "Apparently he ran into his ex, they got in a fight and he left."

She sensed the falsity in my statement and shot me a wary glance.

I'm okay, I mouthed silently.

She popped up out of Bryan's lap and grabbed my wrist, "I've gotta pee. Come with me." Which meant 'girl time' in the bathroom and Bryan got the hint.

"Don't go too far, my song's up next." He said tossing Kennedy a crooked smile.

"Kay. We'll pee fast," she said, pulling me towards the hallway on the other side of the bar.

No line for the bathroom, what a miracle.

Kennedy swung the restroom door open, turned and slid the lock in place so we wouldn't have any unwanted visitors.

"What the hell was that all about?" She asked, leaning against the porcelain sink.

"I saw him with one of those girls from the bachelorette party- they were definitely not fighting. Making up, would be more like it. Not a big deal, Kennedy. It's not like we even really got to know each other anyway. I'm fine, promise" I said, looking up at her.

She looked pissed off. "What a fucking douchebag!" she huffed.

"Seriously, I'm fine." I said reassuringly. "Now, can we just go get drunk up? Please?" I begged, reaching in my purse for the tube of lip gloss I knew would be on the very bottom of the abyss.

"That's my girl!" She smiled and unlocked the door.

"I'll be out in a sec," I said. "I really do have to pee."

"Kay— I'm gonna go watch Bryan. Find me." She said blowing a kiss, before bounding off down the hallway.

I fastened the lock and leaned my back against the door. There really
is
something wrong with me. I can't even keep a guy interested in me for an entire night. I felt tears sting the corner of my eyes. I am not crying over this. She's right. He's a douche. If it wasn't him, it would have been another guy running for the hills.

Suck it up, Ally. Get a grip.

I wiped my eyes, washed my hands and slid the lock back before swinging the door open. I held my purse open with one hand, searching for the side pocket so I wouldn't lose my lip gloss this time. I turned the corner without looking up and hit a wall. I dropped my purse and somehow I managed not to fall flat on my ass. "Shit!" I bent down onto my knees to collect my purse and it's scattered contents, when I noticed two heavy black boots staring back at me. I hadn't hit a wall, I literally plowed into someone...someone who just happened to be male. My fuzzy gaze drifted from the floor and I realized I was staring directly at his giant western silver belt buckle that read "Cowboys Do It Rough". The alcohol buzzing in my head caused my slow reaction to the situation to become even slower.

"Hey, you okay?" A deep, husky voice asked. His sexy voice shot electricity through my veins, igniting every last hair on my body and I felt my cheeks heat up.

My body was a traitor.

I was afraid to look up. Not wanting him to see how he just turned me into a puddle of melted Jell-O in two point two seconds with three words.

God, I'm pathetic!

He gripped my arms and pulled me to my feet. "Uh-huh," I breathed, the words barely leaving my lips, my eyes still fixated on the floor.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked again in that melodic, deep voice, causing my heart to flutter.

He placed his hand under my chin and lifted gently so I was now looking him in the eyes. Oh my god, they were gorgeous; he smelled like fresh rain mixed with expensive cologne and a hint of whiskey. Pools of viridian with flecks of warm honey stared back at me with a quizzical look.

Oh, right. He asked me a question? What was it again?

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm so sorry." I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath.

His hand dropped from my chin, tracing my arm lightly with his fingers, sending chills down my spine. I sighed when he retracted his hand, still feeling the heat lingering from where he had touched me.

A sexy smirk spread across his perfectly chiseled jaw line. He cursed under his breath, running fingers through his messy, caramel hair, and I sensed a hint of worry in his eyes. "Uh...sorry. I thought you were someone else." He mumbled, quickly stepping to the side before retreating down the hallway behind me.

What the hell just happened? Either I had way too much to drink or that was a dream.

A few deep breaths later I spotted Kennedy in front of the stage. I weaved my way through the groups of people gathered there, keeping my composure long enough not to trip over my own feet as I made my way to her side.

"Hey." She said, "What took you so long?"

My heart and mind were racing in unison, replaying the last five minutes over and over in my head until I blurted out, "I ran into someone. Like literally." My cheeks flushing again.

"Was this someone Channing Tatum or something?" She snickered, noting my red cheeks. "You're all flushed."

"Gee, thanks. I hadn't noticed." I said, fanning my face with my hands. "No, not Channing Tatum. That probably would've gone over better than what just happened back there." I said pointing over my shoulder toward the restrooms.

"Oh. My. God. Tell me!" She squeaked, pulling me to a vacant table next to the stage.

I hesitated, "Nothing to tell really."

"Bullshit! What happened? And I swear I'll beat it out of you later if you don't tell me now."

"Fine. I ran into a guy in the hallway. Happy now?"

"Bitch! Umm, hell no. Not even close, please continue." She said clasping her hands together on top of the table.

I cleared my throat, leaned in closer and continued, "Well, for starters, his eyes— were ah-maze-ing. Tall, but maybe not as tall as Doucheth, but close. Oh, and Kennedy, his hair was even hot— what do you call it when it's all messed up?" I asked.

"He had freshly fucked hair? No shit?" She asked grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

"Yeah, that's it. He looked like he could play football, he was really built; like a God— A country-boy-God, that is." I said dreamily.

"Now—" she pointed at me. "I am officially jealous, even though cowboys aren't my thing."
"Why? He said all of five words to me and I'll probably never see him again."

She had a growing smirk, "Oh shut up. I'll bet you see him again."

"Yeah right. And what the hell am I gonna say to him? Oh hey, Mr. Smoldering-hot-sex-god remember me? The girl who ran face first into your perfectly sculpted, rock hard chest?" I giggled.

Kennedy burst out laughing. Her infectious laughter has us both hysterical within seconds. 

"Yeah— you're probably right, calling him 'Mr. Smoldering-hot-sex-god' probably wouldn't go over well," Kennedy choked out, while making air quotes around the name I'd given him and then wiping the tears from her eyes.

We listened to Bryan's rendition of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" and he actually did surprisingly well. We stood once he finished and cheered for an encore, which he graciously declined with a dramatic bow so another one of the bachelorette party tramps could have her turn singing "Teenage Dream". Kennedy stuck her tongue out at him.

We finished the last of our beers just as the bartender announced last call.

"Time to go, kids!" I shouted, tapping my wrist where a watch would normally be.

We walked arm in arm out of the bar, laughing and piled into a cab waiting outside.

This is the best night of my life! I thought as I climbed into the tiny car to escape the freezing cold air. I buckled my seat belt and glanced over at my fiancé smiling brightly. The car's engine purred silently as we drove forward down College Avenue. Andrew reached over and set his hand on my thigh. The champagne went straight to my head, I was giggling and bouncing up and down like a child in my seat.

"I love you," he said taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

"I love you more," I replied, smiling brightly. "I'm going to be Mrs. Raleigh!"

He tilted his head, peeking from the corner of his eye. "Hmm. I like the sound of that— Mrs. Raleigh."

"Well, Mr. Raleigh, it's hard for a girl to say no with a look like that," I teased, reaching over, placing my hand between his thighs, letting my fingers graze his erection.

He fidgeted in his seat, "Let's not get too carried away, future Mrs. Raleigh." He scoffed, before moving my hand down to rest on his thigh..

"Aw— but I was just starting to have fun and I know you liked it too," I winked at him with my bottom lip outstretched.

He held my wandering hand still on top of his thigh, so I couldn't distract him again.

"I promise—" He said with that crooked smile adoring his face, "Once we get home— I'm yours for the taking."

"Promise?" I asked batting my eyelashes as I gripped his thigh.

"Promise." He reassured me with a light kiss to my knuckles.

The traffic light went from red to green and the car moved forward through the intersection. Suddenly, I was thrown back into my seat by the impending airbag and I couldn't breathe. My body was completely numb. Something cold and wet began running down my face. I tried to reach up, but I couldn't move, I was frozen in place; paralyzed. The smell of gasoline stung my nose. I tried to scream for help, but my mouth wouldn't open. Help us! Please, someone help us! I screamed silently as I lay against the deflating airbag, motionless. Help!

My eyes flew open, I shot up, slamming my back against my headboard and panted. Sweat dripped from my forehead and my t-shirt clung to my damp skin.

"Just a dream...it was only a dream," I whispered to myself as I tried to catch my breath.

I lay my head back down on the pillow, closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, locking away the memory of my nightly reoccurring nightmare. I've never told anyone about my nightmares, not even Kennedy. I knew deep down that it was probably bad to keep them locked up in my head for so long, but I couldn't bring myself to talk about them.

It seemed like just minutes later when my door flew open, causing the wall to rattle behind it and Kennedy's cheery voice filled the room. "Get up! Ally! Get up!" She shouted, smacking my bare legs sticking out from underneath the sheets.

"I feel like shit. Go away." I mumbled into my pillow.

"Up! Up! Up! Get UP!" She shouted, with both arms gripping my hips, shaking me.

"Ugh— Why?" I asked in a daze.

"Duh, it's almost four o'clock." She laughed, climbed over me and sat on my stomach.

Already queasy, having her there didn't help, "I'm gonna puke, Ken! Get off me!" I yelled, pushing her off me with one arm.

I slung my legs over the bed. I felt like I'd been hit by a Mack truck. I swore I'd never drink again. The room spun, but I found my feet and padded toward my bathroom, making it just in time to lose last night's dinner into the toilet.

I felt Kennedy lift my hair off my neck. "Oh shit, Ally. I didn't know you were so hung over. I would've left you alone. I'm so sorry."

I finished heaving the remaining contents of my stomach and hauled myself to the sink. I brushed my teeth, twice, and found a bottle of aspirin. I washed my face and turned to Kennedy.

"Who the hell let me drink that much?" I asked, still attempting to keep my eyesight steady.

"You were fine when we left Shaker's I swear," she answered with genuine concern in her tone.

I wiped my forehead with a clean towel. "The question isn't what I drank, it's more like what the hell happened?" I asked, not recalling much of anything from the night besides bowling. "Beside us bowling," I said answering my own question out loud. 

She looked shocked and almost hurt. "You don't remember anything after bowling?"

"No. My head hurts and I can't think right now." I answered, rubbing my temples.

"Ally!" she scolded. "I-I...damn it! We don't have time for this. We've gotta leave in a half hour— shit! I'll tell you what happened last night, later." She continued and took off toward her room.

I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to think of anything after the bowling alley, but came up empty. I grabbed a pair of black lace panties off the top of my clean laundry pile, folded neatly in a wicker basket beside my bed and decided I was in desperate need of a hot shower.

I let the hot water run over me as I rubbed my eyes. How can I not remember anything after bowling? I recalled calling Craig for a ride. Vaguely remembered getting into the cab and everything else is a blur. I slammed my fists onto the shower wall and groaned in frustration.

The hot shower worked it's miracle, feeling much better, I was able to get dressed. I wandered down the hallway to Kennedy's room.

"Hey," I said peeking in the doorway.

"Hey. Feeling better?" She asked, looking up from her phone.

I rubbed my temples again, "A little bit."

"Zac just texted me. They're at a place called Epic on Third and Main. You still down?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Totally," I replied. "I just need to finish getting ready. How much time do I have?"

"Ten. Fifteen at the most."

"Okay, I'll be out in ten." I said, waving over my shoulder as I padded across the wooden floor back into my room.

I dried my hair, pulled it into a loose ponytail, applied some eye shadow, mascara and lip gloss. I tossed on a pair of khaki shorts and a light green v-neck tank top. I rummaged through my closet, found a pair of gladiator sandals and grabbed a white cotton cardigan from it's hanger.

"I'm ready!" I shouted down the hallway, fixing the clasps on my sandals.

"Kay! One sec!" She shouted back.

I decided to wait in the kitchen while Kennedy finished getting ready. I took a cold bottle of water out of the fridge and twisted the cap off. The cool liquid quickly quenched my thirst. I popped a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster and waited. I desperately needed to eat something since I was still feeling the aftermath of my binge drinking episode from the night before. The toast popped up, nicely charred. I'd heard an old wives' tale once about dry, burnt toast being the cure-all for any hangover. So far it was doing the trick and as I swallowed my last bite, my stomach stopped churning.

Kennedy rounded the corner with a disgusted look on her face, "I will never understand how you can actually eat that shit."

"It's the miracle cure. Tastes terrible, but it works," I said smiling.

"You could just be normal and drink a Bloody Mary or something."

"Ew— Gross," I said, gagging at the thought. I never liked tomato juice and I couldn't figure out for the life of me, why anyone would drink it mixed with vodka and seven different garnishes just to get rid of a hangover.

Kennedy laughed, "Pansy."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." I agreed, watching her criss-cross the ribbons on her pink espadrilles before tying them.

She raised her eyebrow and put her finger to her mouth, "You look cute."

I knew what she meant and I frowned. "But?" I asked.

She took my hand in hers and lead me to her room, "Nothing's wrong with your clothes, you look hot— but you should totally wear your hair down." She said pulling me in front of her vanity mirror. "Sit."

I did as she said and sat down on the bench in front of the mirror. Kennedy pulled the ponytail loose and proceeded to blow dry my long wavy hair. She flicked on the power to her flat iron and finished drying my tresses.

"We don't have time for this," I pouted as she worked the hot iron from root to end, leaving my hair silky and straight in it's wake.

"Shush. Almost done." She said with pursed lips.

"So, what happened last night? And why do I feel like you're gonna tell me I did something really embarrassing?" 

"You did, but I'll get to that in a minute. First, let me tell you about that asshole Bryan brought along."

"Seth?" I asked.

She made a 'pfft' sound and shook her head, "Yeah him. Anyway, we get to Shaker's and it turns out his ex is there. He makes up some bullshit story about getting into a fight with her and they leave together. Like I said, asshole."

The faintest flicker of that scene flashed in my mind. "I kinda remember that," I said.

"Oh, good. Do you also remember plowing into the sex god on your way back from the bathroom?"

"The sex god?" I tilted my head in confusion. I remembered hitting a wall except it wasn't a— "Oh shit! I ran into a guy in the hallway outside the bathroom." And just like that, my memory of last night came rushing back to me all at once. "He was gorgeous, like a Calvin Klein underwear model. I remember now. And his eyes...oh...they were this amazing green color." I said, my eyes glazing over at the thought and my cheeks flushed pink.

"Yeah, and when you got back to our table you were blushing like a teenage girl," she laughed, poking my cheek with her finger. "Kinda like you are now."

And I remembered what he said to me, "Sorry, I thought you were someone else," I said.

"Huh?" She asked, confused.

"That's what he said to me before he took off down the hallway. I thought it was kind of odd the way he stared at me for a long time, but I assumed I was just really drunk. I don't think I've ever met him before...Nope...I would have most definitely remembered." I giggled, remembering his muscled arms and rock-hard chest.

"We've probably seen him out somewhere— at one of the bars or something." She said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Yeah. That must be it." I agreed. But something deep inside me was telling me that wasn't it. I couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but I felt like I knew him from somewhere.

I shrugged off the feeling and figured it was just my imagination.

Five minutes later, Kennedy had worked her magic on my hair, giving me a once over before nodding in approval, "God, I'm fucking talented."

"Yes, you are. I don't know what I'd do with out you, friend." I smiled and wrapped my arms around her in a tight embrace.

"I love you too, Ally. Now, let's go see your hot brother."

"Ew—Ken, he's still my brother. Please don't call him hot," I scolded, rolling my eyes.

My brother, Zac was a year and three months older than me and everyone mistook us for twins growing up. He's a few inches taller than me, but we both have naturally blonde hair and blue eyes, although Zac's eye's are almost gray, like a thunderstorm brewing in the sky. I'd say he's handsome, but he's my brother, I never thought of him as ever being good-looking or as Kennedy called him, 'a hot piece of man-candy'. This is same big brother who constantly picked on me, tortured me, locked me out of the house for hours during a torrential downpour (which in turn, gave me pneumonia) and offered me my first beer in high school.

Our mother got pregnant with him when she was only seventeen and our grandparents forced our "father" to marry her before her baby bump even showed. As kids, we spent more time at our grandparent's house than we did at home. It wasn't until my fourth birthday, when our father walked out of our lives and never looked back. She filed for a divorce a short time later and our grandfather was so upset with her lack of an attempt to fix her marriage, he disowned her and us. She got a job as a waitress and worked double shifts to help put money towards our college fund.

During my senior year in high school, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Doctors had high hopes for her recovery when they caught the tumor while it was still small, but later discovered she wasn't responding to chemo treatments and the cancer spread, quickly. I sat with her in the hospital everyday, reading aloud her favorite book, Lewis Carroll's 'Through the Looking Glass' until she'd fall asleep. Occasionally, Kennedy would sit with us and we'd take turns reading. Zac had only visited her a few times and always ended up leaving, claiming he couldn't take the smell of the hospital. Said it smell like death. I couldn't disagree with him, I just wanted to be strong for both of us, so I had no choice but to stay with her.

She died in the middle of the night. Her doctor said she'd gone peacefully, but I'm sure that's the protocol phrase you get when you lose your only parent. After she was gone, I went numb. I didn't cry, I didn't talk about her, I didn't want to remember her frail body and yellowing skin. I wanted to remember my mother the way I had seen her while I was growing up. Beautiful, full of life, smart and funny. And that's exactly what I did.