“I have no idea,” my mother grumbles to my aunt, who grumbles something back.
I kick my keys the rest of the way to the car, and it takes several minutes before I’m able to bend down and pick them up.
What has this girl done to me? And when is she gonna do it again?
Isn’t it obvious?
My body is buzzing. My mind is spinning. It killed me to have to leave him there like that. But if I stayed and his mom and aunt saw us together like that in the dark, they’d know. I’m already the whiskey chick. I can’t also be the hand job chick.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask as I enter Jenn’s room. She’s lying in bed watching TV, and presses mute.
“Better. Just tired.” She rubs the sleep from her eyes and sits up. “I feel awful that you were on your own today.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” I sit down on the bed next to her. “Actually, I didn’t spend the day alone. I was with Adam.”
“Really?” Her brows crinkle. “What did you guys do?”
“We went out. There was a fair down the road, and then we went out to eat.” I’m still reeling from the awesomeness of it all and hope I’m not giving myself away too much. I don’t want it to look like I ran from one brother to the next. Jenn doesn’t know about my history with Adam; well she does, she just doesn’t know it’s my history.
“That’s weird. Was it fun?”
“A lot of fun,” I say, and wonder why she would think it’s weird. Thinking I was a good match for Henry, that was weird, especially when Adam is so clearly the more logical choice. Something is off and I have to ask. “Jenn, why didn’t you try to set me up with Adam over Henry?”
“Because no one ever tries to set up Adam.” Jenn shrugs. “It’s a waste of time.”
I don’t understand. Everyone wants to set up Henry, but no one wants to set up Adam? That seems unfair. Adam is personable and good-looking, even more so than his brother in my opinion. I have a lot more in common with Adam, and he’s obviously interested in meeting someone. He even told me that his sister set me up with the wrong brother.
“Why is it a waste of time?” I adjust myself on the crumpled bedding, leaning in, waiting anxiously for an answer.
“Because.” She sighs. “Adam’s already in love with someone.”
“Oh.” I try not to register any emotion on my face even though I’m not even sure what that emotion would be. Jealousy? Anger? Why did Adam say all those things? And take me out today? And allow my hands down his fucking pants if he was already in love with someone else?
I’m furious and feel the fast-approaching sting of tears build. This is bullshit. If both brothers are already in love, why the hell am I here? Why did I get pulled into this mess?
“Henry’s already in love with someone else too, but you still tried to set him up,” I huff.
“You mean Sasha? Sasha sucks.” She waves a dismissive hand. “He’s not in love with her anymore. He’s soooo ready to move on. He’s just been having a tough time with the moving on part, which is why we’ve all been trying so hard to fix him up.”
I think back to the night in the liquor store where Henry said he was there because he had planned to go to his ex’s and how it would have been a big mistake. He said I had saved him. I can understand why his family wanted to help him out, pushing him toward someone new. But what about Adam?
“This girl Adam’s in love with, she’s okay then? She doesn’t suck?” I ask, crashing my head against the headboard. I can’t believe how much I let myself get played today. I thought Adam and I.... That we…. Fuck what I thought. It was all a lie.
“I have no clue.” Jenn tucks a few strands of blue hair behind her ear.
“What do you mean you have no clue?” I sit back up and cross my legs. “Haven’t you met her?”
“No, I never have. None of us have. But we all know he’s crazy about her.”
“I’m so confused. How do you all know this if you haven’t even met the girl?” I need to slow it down; my interest is way too apparent. I’m practically sitting on top of her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asks, and I stare at her blankly, shrugging. “Adam’s in love with the whiskey chick.”
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?
Wait.
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?
“Adam,” I say, and pause for a beat before speaking again, “loves the whiskey chick?”
“Yes. Why does your face look like that?” Jenn picks up her phone, snaps my picture, and then laughs at the photo she took. “Look at your face. It’s hysterical.”
I push away her extended hand. I know what my face looks like without looking at that picture.
“It’s just... it’s.” I need a minute. I use both hands to rub my temples while I sort out the million questions I have. “How do you know this? He said it to you?”
“No, we don’t think he even realizes it.” She places a hand on her stomach and rubs. “My stomach. I don’t know if this is hunger or more sickness.”
“Who exactly is we?” I feel bad about the stomach, but she cannot change the subject. I’m gonna need way more information.
“I don’t know… we is us, the family, everyone he tells the story to. You heard it. Didn’t you get that from the way he tells it?”
“You told the story, not him. I only heard your version, and I didn’t get love at all.”
“Oh yeah. I did tell it.” She smiles, still clutching at her gut. “I love the whiskey chick too, not in the same way of course, but I do have this weird unexplainable bond with her. But if you heard Adam tell the story, you’d get it.”
“Why?” I ask, sitting on my hands to keep from reaching out and shaking this story out of her faster. “What does he say?”
“It’s not exactly what he says, it’s more of a how he says it kind of thing.” She faces me on the bed. “Plus, there’s been a few girls here and there since then, but nothing ever lasts. It’s been two years. He’s just not interested in anyone else since her.”
“Really?” This makes no sense.
“Oh and that whole Meghan Jones thing? That name is bullshit. He made it up. I’ve searched a million times, and supposedly this Meghan Jones isn’t anywhere online. Come on, he’s lying. He changed her name on purpose. Why would he do that?”
“Yeah, why?” I say, scratching my chin absently.
“My brother and I think he’s leaving out a part where they like fuck in the car or something. I mean, don’t you think there has to be a little more to it?”
“Ew, no. They didn’t fuck in the car,” I say, disgusted. “She was too drunk.” Jenn tilts her head and narrows her eyes at me. “I just mean they probably didn’t have sex if she was that drunk.”
“I don’t know, it’s just a theory, but that’s the story behind the story.” She lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m sorry if you got a wrong impression from him today. And who knows, maybe he is ready to move on. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. Not that I wouldn’t love if you were the one to break the whiskey chick curse. You could be my aunt.” She tosses her head back and laughs. “Do you remember that whole thing? We’re such asses.”
“Mm-hmm.” I’m not really paying attention. Her aunt? What is she talking about?
“Here.” She tosses the remote to me. “I dragged you here for the shittiest weekend ever, the least I can do is let you pick what we’re gonna watch.”
I don’t want to watch anything. I want to find Adam. I need to find Adam. I don’t think that he loves me, but there is something between us. And I want to know what that something is. I flip the channels aimlessly, trying to think of a way to get out of here and back to him.
“Did you decide if you’re hungry? I could get you something,” I offer.
“No thanks, I probably shouldn’t eat just yet.” She grabs her phone again and scrolls, bored with my channel flipping.
Shit. How can I get out of here? Every excuse that pops into my head is stupid and sounds made-up. Maybe ho
nesty is the best policy. I can just say, “Jenn, I’m the whiskey chick. I need to go find Adam and hear this story for myself. If he genuinely has feelings for me, I need to know. Because the truth is... I may have feelings for him too.”
But I don’t get the chance to say any of those things because there’s a knock at the door.
Shit for Brains
I run to the door, hoping to find Adam on the other side, armed with an excuse to whisk me away somewhere private where we can talk. It’s not.
“Remi, hi. How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Jenn’s mother is on the other side of the door.
“Oh, I’m fine. Luckily I didn’t eat the s’mores so I’ve had no issues.”
“Thank God. I feel so awful. I’m not even sure if it was the food or something from cooking the marshmallows over the fire pit.” She holds up her hands. “Never again,” she says, and I don’t know what exactly she’s never doing again, eating s’mores or cooking over a fire. Probably both. I step back and she leans in the doorway. “Jenn, I know you’re not feeling that great, but Tiffany and Lori are leaving tonight and we need help moving some of the cars. Theirs is blocked in.”
“What? Why are they leaving tonight? I don’t want to go move the stupid cars.” Jenn pouts.
“That’s okay, I’ll do it.” I jump at the chance, it’s just the opportunity I needed. I can help move a car or two and then sneak away to find Adam.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“I’m positive. Jenn, you stay put. Rest, and I’ll be back.” I don’t even give Jenn a chance to answer before I urge her mom into the hall and have her lead the way. I glance down the hall at the other rooms and try to guess which one is Adam’s. “This place is so big,” I say as I’m led down a back staircase different from the one I’ve been using. “So many rooms, I don’t know how you know whose is whose,” I say, thinking maybe she’ll somehow point out which one is Adam’s.
She doesn’t.
Damn.
Outside, I’m handed a pair of keys and assigned Henry’s car to move. Word is he’s still too sick to come down and move it himself. I look for any signs of Adam, but in the dark with the chaos of the cars, it’s hard to see anything.
Jenn’s dad directs the moving cars out onto the road and her mom directs us back in once Tiffany and Lori have safely backed out and are on their way. I’m not sure what the rush was for them to leave in the middle of the night like this; maybe they just want to go home and be sick in their own houses. I don’t blame them, that’s what I’d want. But what about Lori and Henry? I wonder if he’s upset that she’s leaving early.
I spot Adam’s car pulling back in. He sees me and motions to the porch. Excited little fireflies flutter in my belly. I rush over to the porch to the dark area where we almost kissed last night and wait.
“Hey.” He comes up behind me and his voice alone causes me to shiver. “Will you meet me in my room?”
“Yes.” I breathe out, rubbing my hands over my arms to quell the cold. “Which one is it?”
“Upstairs, third door on the left.” He looks over his shoulder. “Let me finish up here quick and I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
“Okay.” Our eyes connect briefly and the interrupted heat from before returns. Five minutes from now, there will be no talking, not yet anyway. In five minutes, dirty things are gonna happen in his room. Any talking will have to wait. I back away until I stumble before turning around and run into the house putting space between us before my hand jumps his crotch again.
Five minutes seems like a lifetime away. But the last time we couldn’t wait five minutes, things were interrupted. So this lifetime wait is mandatory.
I take the stairs two at a time, wishing I could make a quick stop into Jenn’s and change my clothes. I’m still wearing the same outfit from before. But if I go back into Jenn’s room, I may never be able to get back out.
Third door on the left.... One, two, three. Wait. I stop myself from turning the door handle. What if he meant the other staircase? Then this might be the wrong left. So what? Does that even make a difference? Everyone is outside moving cars. But what if I’m waiting in there and it’s not the correct room and someone walks back in? That would be hard to explain. Fuck it. I can just wait in the hall five minutes. Adam will come upstairs and we’ll slip in together. And then I’m pretty sure I’m gonna let him slip it in.
Isn’t it obvious? Adam is in love with the whiskey chick.
Mmhmm, yeah, sex. I lean back on the door and shut my eyes. In just a few minutes Adam will be up here and his hands and my hands and his mouth and my mouth and his—
Thump. Flop.
I’m on my ass. What the fuck? Someone opened the door.
“Remi.” Henry stands over me, looking down with a big smile. “I thought I heard someone out here. I’m so glad you’re here. Are you checking up on me?”
“Ummmm,” I try and think of something better to say. Something nice. “Ummmm.” Nope, “um” is all I got. I stand back up.
“I’m so sorry about today, that our plans got pushed off. I wasn’t even really that sick. Just better to play it safe. But don’t worry, I plan on making it up to you.”
“Ummmm.” What is he talking about? Make it up to me? Jenn said I was off the hook; he kissed Lori.
“Maybe you could wear that sexy white dress, and I’ll take you somewhere special next weekend. What do you say?”
Huh? What? Huh? What about Lori? What the hell is happening right now? I have to say something.
“Ummmm.” Wow. I’m a wordsmith. I should write a book.
It’s just, I’m so confused. This is completely throwing me off guard. Is it possible that the s’mores sickness has actually caused Henry to shit his brains out? Even my filterless mind can’t formulate the wrong words to tell him that there’s no fucking chance of that happening. Ever.
“It’s a date,” he says, reaching a finger out and sliding it down my cheek. As he does, his stomach lets out an angry gurgle and then his ass does.
I can’t suppress the look of disgust from spreading across my face and even murmur the word “Yuck” out loud.
“That was the door. Old house. Creaks.” His face is pained, probably from holding in another creak.
“Ummmm.” This time you can’t blame me for the “um.” Honestly, what else could I possibly say to ass gurgling?
“I just remembered something I gotta do. In my room. By myself.” He hitches a thumb behind him. “Grr… Bye.” He bends into a groan. “I’ll see you.” The door slams shut.
Ummm… what just happened?
Stripped of My Dignity
Remi is standing in the hall when I find her. Wordlessly I grab her hand and lead her into my room before anyone sees us. There’s a million things I want to say to her, but none of those things come out.
Today has been unbelievable. Like a dream. That connection from all those years ago, it was real. Us finding each other like this again, it means something. I’m crazy about her. But how the fuck do I say those things without sounding like some lovesick lunatic?
“I’m sorry I ran away before,” she whispers into the dark. I didn’t bother with the lights. “I just didn’t know how we would have explained what we were doing out there.”
“It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Her fingers walk up my chest. “I thought maybe you were feeling blue after I left.”
“Painfully blue,” I admit. That was longest boner of my life. I think it only just settled back down to normalcy a few minutes ago.
“Well, we’re alone now. Does your door lock?”
I instantly reach my hand back and click. She giggles and walks backwards. When she reaches my bed, she stops and lifts her sweatshirt up over her head, tossing it to the side. In the moonlight streaming into my room, I watch as she unbuttons her jeans and removes them next. Stripped down to her bra and panties, she falls back onto my bed, then sits up on one elbow and crooks a finger for me to come o
ver.
Boner reactivation.
As much I want to jump on top of her and do the high school jackhammer, I slow it down. I’m a grown man with a gorgeous woman sprawled across my bed. I gotta do things right. I walk over to the edge of the bed and slowly undo my top button for a slow seduction. Her eyebrows rise and she bites her lip.
“Are you stripping for me?” She’s up on both elbows now, giving me her full attention.
“Yup.” I lower my zipper. I hadn’t really planned on much more, but now that she seems so eager for a striptease, I swing my hips, aiming to please.
“Oh my God, yeah, baby. Turn on the lights. I want to see.” Remi props up my pillows and sits against my headboard. My audience of one is ready, and I do as requested, flicking on the overhead light.
I guess it’s showtime.
I lift off my shirt. My abs are acceptable, toned from spending so much of my spare time at the gym. I smack my hand against my taut stomach and do a little flexing. Remi is into it. She claps, then swings an imaginary lasso overhead. I like the encouragement and ham it up, leaping onto the bed. I jump a few times on the soft mattress and my jeans lower.
Hip swing, thrust, thrust, hip swing.
The jeans fall to my ankles, and I kick them off. My enthusiasm for Remi is quite evident in my tightly tented boxer briefs. I tug on the band of my striped briefs and let it snap back before circling around with my hands clasped behind my head. I have no experience in doing this, but you’d never know. I might have missed my calling.
“The only thing missing is music.” Remi smiles, her eyes glued to my magic pelvis moves. If this girl wants music, then that’s what she’s gonna get.
“Alexa,” I command, “Play ‘Slow Ride’ by Foghat.”
“Yes!” She covers her mouth while excited blue eyes rake over my body. I spin, smacking my ass to the beat of the music. The bright lights highlight my every move, and I don’t care. I’m a dancing fool for this girl, pulsating my hips to the rhythm.
Whiskey Chick Page 8