Intoxicated

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Intoxicated Page 16

by Alicia Renee Kline


  “Good job,” I said brightly.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Blake rolling her eyes.

  “Just wait,” she muttered under her breath.

  There was so much that I could read into that comment. I stared at her, waiting for an explanation that wasn’t going to come. Shrugging it off, I crossed the kitchen to stand by Matthew’s side. I busied myself opening my cookbooks to pages I had already dog eared. As I scanned the recipes looking for things that could be assembled ahead of time for Matthew to tend to later, I saw Blake hovering out of the corner of my eye. She tried her best to look engrossed in setting up the centerpiece on the dining room table, conveniently never putting us out of her line of sight.

  “What’s with her?” Matthew whispered.

  “Full of holiday spirit,” I lied softly. If he didn’t know what was up, I certainly wasn’t going to fill him in. Apparently, I was the only one getting read the riot act.

  “Whatever. She doesn’t have anything to be nervous about. She’s been kind of odd lately.”

  I nodded. “I noticed, too. Maybe she’s just going into ultimate party planner mode?”

  “Or something.”

  “You’ll do fine,” I said suddenly, addressing the unspoken. Instinctively, I started to reach for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly but pulled back. That was all Blake needed to witness. I placed my offending hand instead on my hip, willing it to stay.

  “I wish I had your faith in me.”

  His words saddened me. I closed my eyes to blink back tears. “I wish you did too.”

  “If at any time today you change your mind about keying the BMW, let me know.”

  His abrupt subject change made me laugh out loud. Blake looked up at us, trying to figure out what was so funny. Until then, our entire conversation had been in hushed tones, so try as she might, she couldn’t eavesdrop. Figuring we were getting a little too friendly, she decided the rest of the decorations could wait until we returned.

  “Ready to go, Lauren?” she called out.

  Matthew and I exchanged a guilty glance, akin to getting called out in the middle of class for talking by the teacher. I grinned at him and he returned the favor.

  “Guess my ride’s leaving.”

  “Guess so. Hurry back.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t trust you that much in the kitchen.”

  “Hey, you shouldn’t insult the host.”

  He swatted my shoulder playfully. I raised my arm to retaliate, stopped only by Blake clearing her throat. She raised her eyebrow at me, silently berating me.

  “Are we ready?” she smirked, twirling her key ring upon her finger.

  “Yes, Blake,” I replied in a sing song fashion. I had almost referred to her as “Mom”, but decided to bite my tongue instead. This was undoubtedly a good call. Considering their mother issues and mine to a lesser extent, this was probably not the best course of action, even in a good natured tone.

  “We’ll be back,” Blake announced unnecessarily, practically pushing me out the front door.

  I made no move to argue. Instead, I looked back in Matthew’s general direction and rolled my eyes. He caught my look and nodded. Just in case Blake was watching, he quickly got back to work, staring down into one of the cookbooks intently. I smirked as I followed her down the sidewalk and to the Miata.

  Safely inside the vehicle, I turned to my friend. Like both myself and Matthew, her look was decidedly casual. The siblings pulled it off better than I could ever dream of doing. Even in sweats and a face devoid of makeup, she was stunning. And frowning. Her lips remained in the sour expression even as we headed out of the driveway and towards home. I sighed.

  “What?” I asked.

  She shrugged. Apparently, she wasn’t eager to give a voice to the words I already knew were about to come. She fixed her eyes on the road, staring straight ahead.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. “I am just being friendly. Matthew and I are friends. He has invited my boyfriend to his house for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Indirectly.”

  “Okay, fine. I have invited my boyfriend to his house for Thanksgiving dinner. We are both aware of the fact that I am very much taken. This does not mean that we cannot play around and have fun together. It does not mean that we need to be chaperoned every second that we are together. We are responsible adults. Nothing unsavory is going to happen.”

  Blake gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. “Are you two really that oblivious to what is going on?”

  “What exactly is going on?”

  “The two of you are so attracted to each other, it’s ridiculous. The way you tease each other. The way you talk to each other. The way you flirt back and forth. It would all be very endearing if you were actually boyfriend and girlfriend. But you’re not. And I don’t want to see either one of you get hurt.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but you have nothing to worry about. We are good friends. That’s it. He’s never tried to make anything more of it. Just because I’ve driven the Mustang and we smile and laugh doesn’t mean that any deep feelings will ever blossom. Yes, he is undeniably hot. He can’t do anything about it. And if you’re sensing some attraction on his part, I’m sure whatever lust you think is going on will be over once he meets Eric. Maybe when you realize that my boyfriend is not a figment of someone’s imagination, you’ll feel better.”

  “I know my brother better than anyone, Lauren,” she said softly. “Don’t discount that.”

  “Blake, I’m not trying to argue here. I think that Matthew is a wonderful person. And that I was brought into your lives for a reason. But it’s not to start a relationship with him. It’s to show him that he can be forgiven for his actions. That other people can be accepting of his past even if his own parents aren’t. I’m sorry for the both of you and what has happened. But he has to forgive himself before he can ever expect anyone else to get past it.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “About?”

  “About this connection between the two of you that I may or may not be imagining? What if I’m right, Lauren, and he does have feelings for you? Just play along for a second.”

  “Like I said, my boyfriend is coming for a visit today. If anything is brewing, that will stop it in its tracks. Eric will be on his best behavior, and I’m sure, in front of an audience, he will act like the best boyfriend ever. If – and this is a huge if – if Matthew was having impure thoughts, he would have to bury those. He’s an honorable kind of guy. He wouldn’t do the cheating thing. He wouldn’t put me in that position.”

  “Or he’ll fight for you even harder.”

  “Your optimism is staggering. Besides, he may be preoccupied anyway.”

  It was Blake’s turn to ask what I was referring to. I debated how much I wanted to tell her prior to setting my plan in motion. I looked down at my freshly manicured nails and chewed on my lip.

  “Lauren?”

  “My best friend is single, Blake. She is also attending today.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  I couldn’t tell if Blake was upset with me, or if she was going to be a willing coconspirator. I shrugged, turning to look out the window. We were just pulling into our driveway. The remainder of the conversation would have to wait. We both needed to shower and get ready. Even though we still had a few hours left before the Indianapolis crew was set to arrive, I knew how easily time could get away from you.

  We parted ways at the stairs to the loft without another word. She no longer looked upset, which was a plus. I wondered how much of that had to do with her feeling at ease, and how much was her professional demeanor. I knew for a fact that she took great pride in her work. Since she had singlehandedly decorated her brother’s house, her talents would be on display. I knew she wanted to impress today for a number of reasons, maybe more so than even I did.

  I took an extra hot shower, letting the steaming wa
ter pound down against my skin. As I shampooed my hair, I contemplated what Blake had said. All along I had figured I was reading too much into Matthew’s actions. Now she had indicated they caught her attention as well. I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or scared.

  She was convinced that she had her brother pegged, but I had done my best to mask my own feelings. Sure, she had caught me checking him out a couple times, but that wasn’t atypical, even for someone in a committed relationship. I had to look at him, right? I couldn’t change the fact that I liked what I saw. She had accused me of being attracted to him just now, but I had covered that up pretty well. Or so I thought. If I were to tell her about the dream I had in Indy, she would absolutely flip.

  I stood in front of my closet debating on what to wear. Holidays typically weren’t a big dress up occasion as far as I was concerned. I dressed up all of the time for work, anyway. I wanted to be comfortable on my days off. I settled on a pair of khaki colored denim pants paired with a chocolate brown sweater. Ever the shoe person, I completed the look with a pair of platform ankle boots. I rarely left home without my tall shoes. I needed as much help in the height department as I could get.

  I made sure my hair and makeup were impeccable. Though I was silently freaking out on the inside, no one would be the wiser due to my appearance. According to the mirror, I was perfectly pulled together. I smiled at my reflection, hoping to instill confidence in myself.

  As I waited for Blake to finish up, I sank down onto the sofa and checked my cell. So far, so good. No missed calls. No frantic texts from Eric that he was at the airport somewhere and truly was sorry that he had to cancel. Although it was very unlikely that he could come up with a feasible work excuse to miss out on today, I had been afraid he would try. In a moment of neediness, I texted him instead.

  Can’t wait to see you.

  I wasn’t sure what exactly prompted the clingy me to make an appearance. The sentiment, simple enough. I hadn’t seen him in the flesh since the disastrous weekend where I had effectively walked out on him. We had put that behind us as much as you could without actually being in the same location. Just like all of our arguments, the emotions behind them dulled with time and distance. We moved on like we always did. We pretended that nothing bad happened; that we were the perfect couple.

  Same here. Leaving in about an hour.

  His reply rang hollow, though it said all the right things. I wasn’t sure what response I had been expecting. I felt like he was taking the easy way out, just repeating what I had said and including his itinerary. Just once I wanted him to show some real affection, not the plastic type he was so used to doling out in the sales world.

  Blake emerged from her bedroom. She spied me turning my phone over and over in my hands and assumed the worst. To be honest, I couldn’t blame her. Eric didn’t have the best track record.

  “Don’t tell me he’s not coming.”

  “No,” I shook my head, “he’s leaving in about an hour. I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

  Relief washed over her face. Apparently, she could deal with nervousness. If I were to begin sobbing hysterically, that was a different story.

  “Good. Let’s go back.”

  She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She had chosen an emerald green sweater over black pants for the festivities. Slightly dressy but not out of place no matter the attire of the rest of the guests. Her blond hair was stick straight and pulled half up, half down, the blue streak prominent. Before me stood someone so sure of herself, so confident in her personality, that she had that air of being comfortable in every situation. She didn’t hide who she was, her quirkiness, from anyone. I wondered why Matthew hadn’t learned that lesson from her.

  “Who’s driving?” I asked as I grabbed my own purse.

  “I can.”

  I felt guilty for letting her drive everywhere, but I supposed that if I was used to driving something red and shiny that I wouldn’t want to ride with me, either. Maybe she would let me volunteer once the snow started flying in earnest. My car likely handled better, and if it found its way into a ditch, it wasn’t a huge loss. Then again, I could see her just as easily bringing home the SUV she drove for her design studio and parking the convertible for the season.

  Back in the car, I wondered if we would resume our previous conversation. The first couple of minutes were spent in silence. I wasn’t about to offer up any more information without being asked. I busied myself by digging in my purse for some lip balm, even though my makeup was freshly applied. My attempt to look occupied was all for nothing anyway. Blake kept her eyes on the road as if she were alone in the vehicle. When she did speak, I quite possibly would have hit my head against the convertible top had I not been fastened down with the seatbelt.

  “So, this friend of yours-“

  “Gracie?”

  “Gracie. Isn’t she younger than us?”

  “Yeah. She’s twenty-three.”

  “Matthew’s about to turn thirty. A bit of a difference there.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve considered that also. As well as the distance part. But none of it’s a deal breaker, right?”

  “You are the poster child for a successful long distance relationship. I’d consider you the expert.”

  “If you’re not going to say something nice,” I warned. Blake stuck out her tongue at me. “Very mature.”

  “I’m just going to give you one piece of advice. Think before you do this. If something comes out of this, you will be the hero as long as things are going well. And you will have to live with the jealousy that comes with the territory of setting up someone you are crushing on with someone else. If things head south, you’ve just put yourself in an awkward position. You will forever be the person in the middle. Whose side will you choose then? It’s tough when your inner circle starts hooking up. Trust me.”

  “They haven’t even met yet and we are already planning their demise. Things may never get to that point anyway. Besides, it was just a fleeting thought.”

  “Because if you can’t have him, you want to choose who he is with?”

  I looked away, staring out the window at nothing in particular. My silence confirmed her theory. I felt her hand squeeze my shoulder.

  “I have a boyfriend,” I whispered.

  “I know,” she said, “and that’s another reason not to do this.”

  I turned back to her, determined not to ruin my eyeliner and mascara with a few errant tears.

  “You know, I admire you for your resolve. You have tried and tried to make this relationship with Eric work. You love him. You stand by him. But are you in love with him anymore?”

  She didn’t expect me to answer. The question was rhetorical in nature. Even if she had been waiting for a response, I wasn’t sure that I was capable of forming words. Instead, goosebumps formed on my arms, and I wrapped them around myself, grateful for the warmth of my sweater.

  As we pulled into Matthew’s driveway, she offered one last piece of wisdom.

  “Life is too short to have regrets.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was game time. As the oven timer counted down, the finishing touches put on our carefully laid plans, my stomach continued to twist in knots. Any minute now, the doorbell would ring and the Indianapolis quotient of our party would arrive, ready to pass their judgment. I began to second guess everything, even though it was all perfect.

  The last couple of hours had been a flurry of activity. I would never have been able to pull off an event of this magnitude without Blake and Matthew’s help. After our interesting talk in the car, Blake had left Matthew and me to our own devices. She had stayed out of our way, keeping busy with flitting about the house and making sure everything was picture perfect. Apparently, she felt as though she had given me enough to think about. I would be way too occupied with my own thoughts to even consider flirting.

  Matthew had surprised me by handling every task I had given him with perfection. No matter how much h
e joked about being the typical bachelor, there was hope for him. His future didn’t have to consist of microwave popcorn and TV dinners. I told him that I would teach him some basics and we could go from there. Since he was over at my place for dinner more often than not, it would be simple to squeeze in some cooking lessons. He agreed, but I wasn’t sure if he was just humoring me or not.

  As we worked together, I studied him discreetly. During the time that Blake and I had gone back to our place, he had showered and changed. Gone were the glasses, though his face was still unshaven. Normally, I didn’t like scruffy, but on him, the five o’clock shadow worked. His blond hair was characteristically unruly, threatening to fall into his piercing blue eyes. He was as dressed up as I had ever seen him; over his jeans he had layered a white dress shirt and a black sweater. The shirt remained untucked and peeked out from underneath. He looked like a celebrity, stylish in a way that mere mortals couldn’t be from the top of his head to the bottom of his black combat boots.

  Whoever won his heart would be insanely lucky.

  A chill shot down my spine, and I shuddered at the thought.

  “It’s okay; I’m nervous too,” he admitted, mistaking my action.

  I smiled up at him. Our eyes met and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Happy Thanksgiving,” I whispered. “No matter what happens today, I am thankful for meeting you and the friendship that you’ve given me.”

  He reached across the countertop and grabbed my hand. “Happy Thanksgiving, gorgeous. One day I hope I will be the person you think I already am. Sometimes when we are together, I forget that I’m not and I almost start believing it myself.”

  I laced my fingers around his and squeezed. Holding his hand felt like one of the most natural things in the world. Our hands rested against the cold concrete, but I felt no chill. I was only aware of the warmth of his touch. His eyes searched mine, looking for answers to whatever nameless questions were swirling in his head. His lips parted momentarily as if he were going to say something further, then closed as he thought better of it.

 

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