I’m well-aware of how drunk I am.
I’m also well-aware of the fact that were I not this intoxicated, I would never allow Blake to put his hands all over me like he’s doing right now. I mean, those meat hooks are everywhere. I think he’s one layer of clothing away from getting us kicked out of the place for inappropriate conduct.
We’re on the dance floor, but I’m not even sure if you can call what we’re doing dancing anymore. It’s more like upright dry-humping set to music. It started out as dancing. After about the second round of drinks, I got tired of watching Alex make out with Grayson’s neck and asked Blake to dance.
I knew perfectly well that this would piss Alex off because she and I both know Grayson never dances. And I mean never. He simply refuses to do it.
I think he grew up in that Footloose town or something.
And, just as I suspected, the fight began a few minutes after Blake and I exited the booth. I could hear Alex’s pouty whine even over the music blaring from the speakers. She accused Grayson of being too reserved. Too uptight. Not fun. She pleaded for him to let loose more.
It was an argument I’d heard countless times before.
“Why can’t you be more like Blake?” I heard her say.
And that really seemed to set Grayson off. That’s when he started to yell back. And Grayson hardly ever yells back.
The fight finally simmered down about twenty minutes ago. Alex pouted in the booth for a while, sipping her beer and refusing to make eye contact with Grayson. But now, as I look over, I see that she seems to have forgiven him already and is back to exploring the contours of his neck with her tongue.
I can hear the roar of blood in my ears as I watch Grayson tilt his head and gently push her away.
“Everything okay?” Blake shouts to be heard over the music.
I blink and focus back on my dance gyration partner, just now realizing that I’ve stopped moving.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” I give him a strained smile.
He grins goofily back and pulls me toward him again, thumping his hips against mine.
Over the top of Blake’s shoulder, I catch site of Alex in the booth, seemingly put off by Grayson’s rejection. She turns, captures Grayson’s face in her hand, yanks his chin toward her, and kisses him hard on the mouth, her hands roving his body like a Lunar Lander.
Then she starts kissing his neck again, working her way down, tickling the exposed area of his chest under his polo shirt.
I expect Grayson’s eyes to close. For his head to tip back, the way it was positioned this morning when I walked in on them in the bathroom. But that doesn’t happen.
His eyes stay wide open.
And, in fact, they land on me.
I take advantage of this unique opportunity and find my way to Blake’s mouth. I plant my lips firmly against his, holding his head steady with the back of my hand.
It doesn’t take much coercing on my part. Blake responds immediately. Kissing me back with equal vigor, entangling his tongue with mine, his hands pressed hard into my back.
The thought of having to face him tomorrow night at the restaurant floats somewhere near my consciousness, but I bat it away. That’s for Future Lia to deal with. And I’ve found that Future Lia is usually much better at handling these kinds of things than I am.
Right now I just need to show Grayson that I don’t care. That he can get blow jobs from my sister whenever he wants. I’ve moved on.
Something I really should have done eight years ago.
Something I really thought I did when the two of them left for college.
But clearly my heart believes otherwise.
Blake starts to kiss the hollow below my cheek bone, and I close my eyes and focus all my efforts on enjoying the feel of his lips on my skin.
This is hot.
This is sexy.
This should be getting my blood pumping.
But, for some reason, his mouth feels like slimy octopus suction cups puckering my flesh.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and I’m grateful for the distraction. I pull away to see Alex standing next to us, her arms crossed. Grayson stands a few paces back, looking at his feet.
“We’re leaving,” Alex says. “Grayson has a stick up his ass tonight.”
I bite my lip to keep from giggling. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“You two have fun for us. Since clearly my fiancé is incapable of enjoying himself.”
Alex starts to turn away and I’m bombarded by a sense of panic. The thought of being here alone with Blake is kind of nauseating. I’m about to bid Blake farewell and announce that I’m coming home with them when Grayson steps forward.
“Come on, Lia,” he practically orders me. “It’s time to go.”
And that’s when my blood really starts to boil. I flash him the fakest of smiles. “That’s okay, Grayson. I think I’ll stay.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, man,” Blake puts in. “I’ll get her home.” He winks at Grayson and I almost want to roll my eyes.
“No.” The force and swiftness of Grayson’s reply startle everyone.
Alex seems to find it amusing. “Don’t worry. She’s a big girl now.”
But my reaction is anything but amused. “Thanks,” I spit at him. “But I’m pretty sure I can make my own decisions. Besides, you’re not my brother yet.”
The torment that passes over his face is hard to miss. And yet I seem to be the only one who notices.
Then suddenly Grayson’s hand is around my arm, and he’s physically pulling me toward the door. “You’re drunk, Lia. You’re not thinking straight. You’re coming home with us.”
I twist and thrash and try to shake him loose, but his grip is too strong. “Let GO!” I scream.
But he doesn’t let go. Not until he’s dragged me through the bar, out the door, and into the parking lot.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” I yell as soon as I’m free. “You can’t tell me what to do or who to hang out with! You have NO right!”
“I just don’t want to see you do something you’ll regret in the morning.”
“WILL YOU STOP TRYING TO SAVE ME?! YOU CAN’T DO IT! I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!”
Grayson’s head droops forward. “I’m not trying to save you,” he whispers, barely audible. “I’m trying to save me.”
But before I can ask him what the hell that means, Alex stumbles dazedly into the parking lot, holding both of our purses, the confusion evident on her face. “Grayson? What has gotten into you tonight? If Lia wants to stay she can stay.”
Blake exits just then, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “Look, it’s fine. Lia, we can hang out tomorrow or something.”
And I know there’s no point in arguing now. The moment is over. Blake probably thinks we’re a family of psychopaths and drama queens and I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns in his notice tomorrow morning and I never see him again.
He kisses my cheek before shuffling toward the street. It’s a short walk back to the restaurant where his car is parked.
“Do you want to tell me what the hell that was about?” Alex demands of Grayson as soon as Blake is out of earshot. She yanks open the passenger side door of my father’s car. I grudgingly slide into the back seat and cross my arms over my chest.
“I’m sorry,” Grayson says softly as he gets in behind the wheel and buckles his seat belt. “It’s just that I can tell Blake is a huge player.”
“Lia can take care of herself,” Alex retorts.
He puts the car in gear and backs out of the parking spot, catching my eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror before I turn and stare out the window.
He doesn’t respond. But he doesn’t have to. I think we both know that Alex is wrong.