Liv
I am glowing like the moon above our heads. The words that just came out of his mouth leaves me stunned; I can’t even speak. All I can do is press my hand harder against his chest, like I want to reach in and grab his erratic, tattooed heart. Mine. His heart is mine. I can’t be any hotter or blush any harder even if I tried. His affection toward me makes me giddy, and I want to get up and dance even if I look like a fool. He loves me whole-heartedly. I can see it in his eyes as he takes in my shocked, blushing state with that little crooked smile of his.
What he doesn’t know is that he has my heart. I’ve told him countless of times how I love him, but I don’t think he understands how he truly and one hundred percent has me. There is no turning back from this, from him. He has a hold on me that I know will never loosen. It’s a good thing I don’t want him to. I have never felt such heartache from the amount of love pouring into my veins, and I somehow just know that I won’t feel this love again, not for anyone else. Only for him.
“Say something,” he begs softly, nudging his nose with mine.
I hum and circle a finger around his inked skin. “You have mine too, Grey. You stole it the minute we met.”
“I was quite the catch, huh?” he jokes with that cockiness I love dearly.
I laugh and lift my eyes to meet his, admiring his dimples. “And you still are.” I offer him a genuine smile, and his lips lose his arrogant smirk just a tad. They soften into a smile that reflects the light beat of his heart as I slip my fingers through his unbuttoned shirt and bounce my fingertips over his tattooed skin that protects his matching heart. I lean up and he bends down, our lips meeting in the middle. A single hair of electricity wraps around my heart and squeezes tightly until I find relief in his mouth.
We should probably go back inside; my friends must be wondering what’s taking so long. The thought of their assumptions makes my stomach tighten and my face to heat up in embarrassment. But I can’t seem to pull away. His lips draw me in and pull me away, tugging at a desire for more. So much more. Especially when his hands slither up my dress and grip my thighs. A moan slips out, and I grip the back of his hair, earning a throaty groan from him.
“Sick, dude!” a person behind Grey shouts.
I pull away and hide in his neck as one of Charlotte’s friends passes us.
“Fuck off!” Grey snaps, and the boy quickly nods before scrambling into the house. “Fucking ruined the moment,” he mumbles, turning back to me with a pout.
I laugh. “It’s okay; I think we should head back inside anyway.”
“Because of that ass-wipe? Hell no.” He pulls me closer to him, and I laugh harder.
“We can continue this later when we’re home and not in front of my parents’ beach house.” I take my hand out of his shirt and push him back. He begrudgingly steps back and helps me down. I open the trunk, grab the belt, and hand it to him.
“What’s this for?” he asks as I close the trunk again.
“For you to wear,” I explain, and he scoffs.
“I am not wearing this,” he says and moves to open the trunk.
I step in his way. “Why not?” I ask, and he opens his mouth. “Do you really not like it? Do you h-hate it?” I pull out the big guns: widened eyes and pouty lips. The puppy dog look. He falls for it every time. I even tug at my dress and twirl it a bit. It’s one of the reasons I decided to wear it tonight—he’s a sucker for the whole innocent look. Can’t ever say no to it or me. A flaw I will definitely use in the future. With a lot of guilt, of course…
“I really hate you,” he grits out through his teeth.
“Funny, I thought you loved me two seconds ago.” I bat my eyelashes, and he glares at me but slinks the belt through his dress pants loops and clasps it on. I tap the buckle and then his nose. He bites my finger and I gasp, poking his chest. “Don’t bite or I may have to reciprocate later.” I wink at him, and he slaps a hand to his chest.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he says.
“Wouldn’t I?” I back away, and he chases after me. “Grey!” I scream as he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder like a lousy sack of potatoes.
“You bite, I bite back,” he threatens, and I consciously rub my thighs together. “That’s what I thought.” He bites my thigh, and I laugh, then moan in pain. He puts me down in front of the door and pecks my lips, holding my chin. “Don’t tease me if you know what’s good for you, princesa.” I frown, and he kisses me, but I keep my eyes open to glare at him. He laughs like a dictator before pulling me from the door and opening it.
We walk back into the party, and it hits us full force. The lights are slightly dimmed. Red cups are beginning to litter the floors along with colorful confetti. Everyone is dancing to some hip-hop song I don’t know the name of. This is going to be a bitch to clean tomorrow. But for right now, we should focus on having fun and enjoying the night.
I pull Grey into the kitchen where the drinks are. He wraps his arms around me. I first think it’s because he wants to be closer to me, but then I notice how every boy I pass looks like they’re about to poop their pants. I roll my eyes but keep walking.
I stop in my tracks when Rose’s eyes lock with mine. She looks a little uncomfortable but is dressed prettier than ever in a red wrap dress and perfect makeup. Grey stiffens behind me as she smiles at us and waves us over.
Oh God.
I haven’t officially spoken to her without running away. I mean, I practically ripped Grey from her hands. They weren’t really a thing, but still, they were something. And I just swooped in and jetted off to another country with him and started something up again. She’s a really sweet girl, and I hurt her. I didn’t ever want to put her through any more pain after what Grey did to her. But I just dropped a truckful of betrayal, and I hate myself for it. What if they were meant to be and I just destroyed everything?
“She doesn’t hate you, bebé,” Grey whispers in my ear. “I told her what happened, and she said she saw it coming. It’s okay.” He kisses my cheek, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I needed that.
With his helpful words, I finally plaster on a smile and walk over to Rose.
“Hi, guys,” she says, genuinely spirited. Her eyes flicker to Grey, and she nods to him. “Happy birthday, Grey.”
He nods at her and tightens his arms around me. “Thanks.”
A little more awkward silence, then I clear my throat.
“Do you know where the others are?” I ask her, referring to her brother and everyone else.
“Out back,” she says, and I smile, beginning to leave. But her arm grabs mine, making me stop and look into her sad eyes but bright smile. “It’s really good to see you guys together…” She pauses and glances at Grey, then smiles a little bigger. “Happy. You two are really meant for each other.” She sounds like she really means it, and I feel even worse on the inside.
“Anyway.” She clears her throat and turns to the counter. “I was going to bring some out to the others, but I want us to clear up any tension or anything between the three of us.” She holds two shot glasses out to us, looking me in the eyes. “To start over, you know?” I stare at her, then at the shot glass in fascination. How can she be so kind after everything? She’s a truly compassionate human being, that’s why.
“I’d love that.” I take the glass, mirroring her blissful grin. I look over my shoulder at Grey, who is staring at Rose with slightly narrowed eyes. “Grey,” I whisper, and he makes an incoherent sound before taking the glass.
“Sure,” he mumbles, knocking the glass back then sets it on the counter.
She and I giggle at his brutishness.
“To new beginnings,” she promises, clinking my glass with hers.
“New beginnings,” I repeat and down the vodka. My tongue tickles, and I grimace as the hot liquor slides down my throat. Well, here’s to new beginnings…
***
I awake with a raging headache and aching limbs. I slowly lick my dry lips and sit up, wherever I am. I am in a hell of a lot of pain as I move every inch until I am fully sitting up. I open my eyes one at a time and look around. I am in my room, in my bed, and a few of my friends like Mason and Charlotte and Mateo are passed out on the ground, each snoring like hungover bears. I look to my side, hearing a familiar deep snoring closer to me. It’s Grey. He’s shirtless and pantless, but he still has his socks on.
What the heck happened last night? I question myself, rubbing my eyes.
I’m hit with a strong urge to pee. I coach myself to take deep, soothing breaths as I slowly stand. My legs protest like the jelly sticks they are, and I fall to my stomach. My bladder is pressed, and I whine as I try to stand, but my body feels like iron. Strong and sturdy. I drag myself using the very little strength in my upper body and pull myself up.
I walk along the wall to the bathroom, stepping over loose limbs and messy hair from my friends until I’m finally in the bathroom. I pee like I have Niagara Falls in my bladder, then wash my hands. I make the mistake of looking into the mirror. Gross. I grimace at my ragged appearance. Hair that stands up every which way like I was struck by lightning, dry drool on my chin, makeup that is a complete mess, and my dress is fully unzipped.
Seriously, what the heck happened last night?
I don’t remember anything after the few shots taken with Rose and Grey. I know I’m not one to handle my liquor, but geez. You’d think after a while I’d get used to it.
“Ugh,” I groan as I rub my head to conjure something, anything from last night. All I get are buttons bouncing on the floor and gold—that’s it. “I am never drinking again,” I promise myself.
I shower, taking a long time to loosen my aching muscles, rinse out my hair, and brush my teeth until I can’t taste any of the puke I did conjure up while showering. Which was the grossest thing ever, but at least I washed up quickly after. I had to lean against the tiled wall for a good portion of the shower.
Now I feel a tad better, but hell still resides in my head. I’m dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a simple white tank top and Converse. I brush my unruly curls into a ponytail and put on a headband. I take the opportunity to pack all of my clothes into more suitcases. It hurts that I’m not staying here anymore and my mother and I haven’t talked in such a long time since the incident, but she hasn’t reached out to me. So why should I?
After working my exhausted body out, I decide I should reward myself with some breakfast.
I descend the stairs while yawning, when I see him.
“Noah?” I croak and almost slip down the stairs from shock.
He is quietly opening the door but stops at my voice and freezes. “Liv?” He turns around, and I feel my heart skip a beat. His green eyes meet mine, and I feel myself flush as I finish coming down the stairs. What is he doing here, leaving? I didn’t see him at the party last night. But why would he come anyway? It was Grey’s birthday party. And considering what went down between us…well, I thought he hated us—me specifically.
“What are you…I didn’t see you last night,” I breathe, tilting my head.
“I wanted to drop by and talk…” he says, jaw tightening.
“I…d-did we?” I clear my weary voice. “Did we talk?”
He shrugs, looking away. “I don’t remember anything.”
“Me either,” I admit.
He looks at me and stiffly nods. I bite my lip and look away. I hate this awkward, angry tension between us. We were great friends before anything happened romantically between us. I want that friendship back, and I will not stop until we have it.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I finally look up into his eyes, and he merely shrugs.
“I honestly saw it coming,” he says and smiles sardonically. “You never truly loved me. I saw it in your eyes, when we kissed…” His voice breaks, and he closes his eyes.
My heart breaks looking at him, this sweet boy I’ve ruined because I was so damn selfish and didn’t think about his feelings.
I take a step forward. “Noah, I am so sorry—”
“I gotta go. I’ll see you around, Olivia.”
Olivia?
The door slams behind him, and I am left here, shocked, angry, and heartbroken. And it’s all my damned fault. Why couldn’t I pull my head out of the grey cloud and actually pay attention to him and how this would affect him?
I scream at myself and shake my head. “I fucking hate myself,” I murmur. My skin crawls, and I feel like I’m being watched. I look up but see no one. I shrug and conclude it’s my jittery body. I still feel like I am going to implode. I should get something to eat and hydrate myself before I actually do implode.
I shuffle into the kitchen and make myself some cereal and pour out orange juice. I shovel the Lucky Charms into my mouth, silently wishing I could be a better person. I wish I could go back in time and just be better.
“Hey,” a strained voice says behind me.
“Morning,” I reply when Mason sits on the stool beside me.
Silence.
“Do you remember anything from last night?” I ask him, curious.
He juts out his lip and shrugs. “A little, but not much. We partied pretty hard last night.”
I hum in reply, shoveling more cereal.
“You?” he asks.
I shake my head, my mind stuck on Noah’s defeated face and words.
“Nothing.”