A Broken Us (London Lover Series Book 1)

by Amy Daws

  Frank tucks some orange strands back up into his hat and looks at us solemnly, “Tonight…we drink.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It is nearly eleven o’clock before we are dressed and ready for our guests to arrive. Frank, Leslie, and I clamor downstairs and find Julie and Mitch in the kitchen, making punch at the counter with three of their friends from out of town.

  “Guys! You look fantastic!” Julie announces, brightly.

  She’s wearing a bright purple one-shoulder mini dress with zebra print around the edges. She couples it with fishnet stockings and knee-high boots. Mitch, looking perky as ever, is wearing a black fitted t-shirt, jeans, and a white priest-collar around his neck.

  After introductions and appreciative conversation over everyone’s costumes are complete, Julie announces proudly, “Who wants party punch?”

  We all gather around the kitchen counter as she dishes bright red punch into black plastic cups and tosses a lemon slice on top.

  Frank awkwardly scrambles up onto the countertop and sits with his cup held out.

  “A toast, my dear popettes. A toast…ahem.” He waits for us to quiet down.

  “Here’s to you, here’s to me. The best of friends we’ll always be. If ever we should disagree, then fuck you, and here’s to me!” He laughs heartily and takes a big swig of his punch; his humongous hat nearly falls off as he tips his head back.

  We all laugh and tisk in response, then take a drink anyway. The punch is sweet but I can taste the dull burn of booze after I swallow.

  “Oooo, wait! I heard one a few weeks ago,” Leslie interrupts, “Oh crap, how did it go? Here’s to living…no wait, I got it, I got it. Here’s to the girl with the little red shoes, she loves her nookie and loves her booze, she’s lost her cherry, but that’s no sin—she still has the box the cherry came in! Ahhhh!”

  We all laugh and take another drink.

  “You do one, Finley. Go!” Leslie says loudly over everyone’s chatter.

  “Okay, um…this one is kind of boring. For every wound, a balm. For every sorrow, a cheer. For every storm, a calm. And for every thirst, a beer! Er…punch!”

  Everyone cheers appreciatively and drinks.

  “I’ve got one,” Mitch says quietly and we all turn our surprised eyes to him.

  He looks quickly to Julie and begins, “Here’s to the wound that never heals, the more you rub it…the better it feels. All the soap this side of hell, won’t wash away that fishy smell.”

  Mitch finishes and takes a quick drink. We all stare wide-eyed and deathly silent at Julie as we wait for the definite rapture coming Mitch’s way.

  “Wait, what?” she says, cocking her head seriously. “I don’t get it.”

  We all burst into laughter. Frank falls down sideways on the counter holding his drink awkwardly and gripping his ribs. I’ve never seen him laugh so hard, so I laugh harder in response. Leslie is squatted down trying to get a hold of herself, and tears form in my eyes at the sight of everyone laughing at Julie’s confused reaction. I look at her one more time and another fit of laughter comes over me.

  “Uh, hello?” a voice calls over top of our laughter.

  We all turn our heads and see Liam and three other guys walking in beside him.

  “We knocked, but no one answered,” he offers, apologetically.

  Liam looks good. Damn good. How is it possible he made a vicar costume look sexy? My eyes travel slowly from his feet to his head. He’s wearing black jeans with chunky black boots, a sexy black belt with a very masculine silver buckle, and a black fitted V-neck t-shirt with a white collar, just like Mitch’s. And over top of that he has a very sharp looking black leather jacket on. He looks masculine, he looks strong…he looks sexy. Damn it, anyway.

  I can already feel the buzz of the red punch in my head as I walk over to greet him. He eyes my dress affectionately and then his gaze locks onto my mouth.

  “Wow,” he says.

  I smile back at him shyly, looking to his friends for introductions, hoping to get the attention away from me.

  He doesn’t seem to notice my silent request as he continues staring at my matte red lips. I decide to take charge of the situation and offer my hand, “Hi, I’m Finley.”

  “James,” his friend to the right of him says, taking my hand. He’s really short, a good five inches shorter than me and has brown shaggy hair with dark olive skin. If I had to guess, I’d say he was of Italian descent.

  “I’m Ethan,” says this beautiful, tall, chocolate-skinned guy standing on the other side of Liam. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting us,” he says, as he leans in to brush his lips against my cheek.

  I’m slightly taken aback by this intimate gesture and then Liam’s hand clamps down on Ethan’s shoulder and he pulls him back.

  “Don’t make me regret inviting you,” Liam says in a very firm tone.

  Ethan smiles playfully back at me and holds his hands up in surrender.

  “Just being friendly,” he quips, with a quick raise of his eyebrows.

  “Go be friendly by the punch bowl,” Liam barks, and with that, Ethan and James make their way over to the group crowding in the kitchen.

  “This is Theo,” he says, moving aside and allowing Theo to come forward and shake my hand.

  Theo has buzzed blonde hair and looks really familiar for some odd reason. He looks over my shoulders and I turn to see him checking out Leslie. Without giving me a second look, he moves us aside and walks straight to Leslie. She turns when he grabs her arm and has a shocked look on her face. Theo looks pissed. I watch them curiously, wondering how they know each other.

  “Finley,” Liam whispers into my ear from behind. I feel his hands grasp my waist ever so lightly and I turn to face him.

  His gaze dances from my eyes to my lips and he looks…hungry. That’s the only word I can use to describe this look he has. Hungry. My belly flips at his perusal and I begin to feel uncomfortable with our close proximity.

  He smiles as if he’s reading my mind, then leans in to kiss my cheek, “You look way too beautiful to be a tart.”

  I smile back at him, “Thanks. I’m an expensive tart,” I wink, playfully. “Can I get you a drink? There’s punch, or tons of beer in the fridge. What’s your poison? Frank has a huge stash of liquor too, if you like.”

  He backs away, seemingly accepting my silent request for lightness.

  “Tell me the truth,” he reasons. “Did you tell me to bring friends to prevent us from talking too much?”

  I look at him and furrow my brow, “Talking definitely wasn’t what I was worried about.”

  He smirks and diverts his eyes from my mouth, “Your legs look incredible.”

  I half-smile at him, “You look pretty good yourself, for a nasty old vicar.”

  He laughs, “Beer would be great, cheers.”

  I head over to the fridge and feel Liam’s presence following me. He has all of my senses on high alert. I eavesdrop on Leslie and Theo’s conversation and what I hear makes me stop and check on her.

  “…why you just left…” Theo stops as I put my arm around Leslie’s shoulders.

  “Hey!” I offer brightly, trying to lighten the mood. “You guys know each other?” I ask, as I take a gulp of my punch.

  Theo turns and nods at me with a deep scowl to his brow and Leslie looks at me like she’s about to burst. She gives me a nod to follow her to the other room and I look back at her, confused.

  As we move to leave, Theo grabs Leslie’s arm and gives her an intense look like he’s not going to let her go. Leslie eyeballs him for a very intense moment and Liam places a hand on Theo’s chest.

  “Let the ladies chat, Theo,” Liam says, pushing him back. “C’mon mate, there’s beer in the fridge.”

  Leslie and I totter in our heels through the dining room and into the living room where the music is much louder. I look at her like I can’t hear her and she hurriedly grabs my arm and leads me down the short hallway into the small bathroom.

/>   She shuts the door quickly. It’s much quieter but we’re standing toe to toe in the tight quarters. It only has a toilet and a small old-fashioned basin. I hate using this bathroom because my long legs hit the sink’s hardware when I sit down. The master suite and attached bathroom are just down the hall but I’ve still never seen that room. I usually just walk up the three flights of stairs to use my own private bathroom that offers a lot more leg space.

  “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!” Leslie stammers, her eyes wide as she pulls the white strap of her loose tank top back on top of her shoulder.

  “What is it, Leslie? Spill it! Who is that guy?” I question.

  “You remember that night at Shay when you met Liam?” she asks.

  “Yeah, duh. Of course I do.”

  “Well, do you remember the guy I danced with? The cute one with the dark-framed glasses on?” she asks, nodding her head at me encouragingly.

  “Shit! That’s him?” I ask, shocked. London is a huge city, there’s no way the one random guy she dances with on the dance floor happens to be Liam’s friend.

  “Yes! Holy balls, this is so weird!” She rubs her hands over her cheeks and inspects herself in the mirror to make sure she didn’t mess up her makeup.

  I pull a small eyelash off her eye and ask, “Why does he seem so grumpy?”

  “He’s pissed! Like royally pissed,” she screeches at me like I should know.

  “What the heck for?” I ask still clueless.

  She looks uncomfortable and I furrow my brow at her reaction.

  “What, Leslie? What did you do?” I ask, grabbing her arms so she faces me and stops looking away.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God! I can’t tell you! I can’t!” she shakes her head at me, looking away as her cheeks blush a bright crimson.

  “The cracks!” I scream at her, growing frustrated with her demeanor.

  She drops her head low and sits down onto the toilet lid.

  “Ugh, okay. God, this is so embarrassing,” she begins. “So that night at Shay. You and I were dancing, remember? Acting like fools.”

  I nod in agreement.

  “And we took those shots, two in a row, you know? We were feeling good. Really good.” She pauses and adjusts her red lace bra up a bit, “Well, it’s been a while for me since I’ve been with a guy. Like too long, Fin-Bin. Scary long. There’s probably cobwebs down there for God’s sake. And apparently, my coocha has a mind of her own because…”

  She pauses again with a horrified look on her face, “I can’t, Finley. I can’t!” she cries.

  “Leslie, if you make me say cracks one more time…” I threaten.

  “Ohmygod. Okay, okay, okay. I came on his fucking leg!” she blurts out.

  “What?” I question, assuming I heard her wrong.

  “I was horny, Finley. H-o-r-n-y. Those shots and the vodka tonics, the music, the lights, I don’t know…it like…kick-started my cooch or something because she was wanting to do more than just dance,” she says, pointing down toward her crotch.

  “Did you have sex with him?” I question as realization sets in.

  “No! Jesus!” she barks, pissed off.

  “Then what did you do, Leslie?”

  “Argh! We were dancing really hot and heavy. You were doing your own thing. I don’t know. Theo can move, what can I say? We were dancing and his leg was in between my leg, you know,” she says, standing up and demonstrating by placing her leg between mine. “I guess it was the friction of his jeans or something. My panties were really thin that night and…holy crap…your face right now. I can’t finish if you keep looking at me with that face!”

  “This is my face! My face is my face! I can’t help my face! Finish! I’m dying here!” I screech.

  With a big gust of air, she spews out the rest.

  “We were dancing so hot and horny and apparently the friction of jeans and the fact I haven’t seen a man’s penis in over a year made me come on the damn dance floor amongst a crowd of people. I had an orgasm in public, Finley! I came on a stranger’s leg like a horny dog that can’t help but hump. I’m a freaking humping pervert of epic proportions and I’ve shamed myself into celibacy. I’ve probably lost you as a friend; if Frank ever finds out, it’ll be all over the damn Internet. I won’t hear the end of this. My life is officially over,” she says, sullenly. “I’ll never look at a leg the same way ever again.”

  A silence creeps over the bathroom as her confession marinates in my brain. I purse my lips together, trying to contain my smile. When she looks up at me with sad, puppy-dog eyes, my mind instantly connects the puppy eyes with her humping dog reference from earlier and I spit everywhere as my lips part in a hearty laugh.

  I laugh so hard and so loud, the noise radiates off the tiny bathroom walls and is nearly deafening. Leslie’s sad face turns to a glare as I wipe tears from my eyes.

  “Holy crap, Leslie! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “Really?” she retorts, not impressed. “Really. You’re surprised I didn’t tell you about the most mortifying thing that’s ever happened to me? Shocking. Truly and utterly shocking.” She states in a flat monotone. She is getting pissed, so I attempt to pull myself together.

  “So, what’s his problem? Why is he all mad and caveman-like right now?” I question.

  “He’s apparently pissed I ran off and never said anything to him. I asked him what the hell he wanted me to say…Thank you?”

  Another burst of laughter erupts from me and Leslie shakes her head, trying to conceal her own smile.

  “He seems interested in me but I don’t know if I can get past the horror of what I did. I can’t believe he thinks I’m anything but a perv! I can’t believe he’s even here. Afterward, I told him I had to go to the bathroom and he made me promise I would come back. I literally crawled on my hands and knees at the club to ensure he wouldn’t see me heading back to our table. I was freaking mortified! Now he’s here, making me relive the whole sorry event.”

  “Well, give him a chance. If he doesn’t think you’re a freak, maybe he’s a really nice guy?” I offer.

  “Or maybe he’s a freak like me. Two peas in a damn pod. Good Lord.” Leslie smoothes her auburn hair down and gently touches her gelled curls.

  “Lets get back out there. We can’t avoid him all night,” I say, ushering her out the door.

  “Just keep your legs where I can see them. I can’t be trusted!” she says, and I burst out laughing again. God I loved this girl, even if she is a freak.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  An idea comes to mind as we join everyone back in the kitchen. Leslie is in dire need of some cheering up. Just looking at her in her ridiculous tart getup and sulky face is enough to make me laugh. She is definitely in need of a distraction from her embarrassing dance-gasm with Theo. Not to mention, Theo is continually throwing daggers at Leslie.

  My eyes search the room for Liam, who is visiting in a small circle with his friend James, Mitch, Julie, and a few other new faces that must have arrived while Leslie and I were having our bathroom heart to heart. Must not laugh at Leslie. Must not laugh at Leslie.

  “Alright, everybody!” I announce from the dining room doorway. No one stops talking to listen to me, so to get their attention I pound my foot on the floor. Nothing. I chug the rest of my red sweet punch, set the cup on the dining room table, and drag a chair into the kitchen entry. I motion for Ethan because he’s the nearest guy. He saunters over, a bit too smugly. I ignore it and press my hand on top of his shoulder to hoist myself on top of the dining room chair.

  “HEY!” I shout loudly this time with a giggle afterward.

  Leslie dashes over from her conversation with Frank and stands below me with a big smile on her face, eagerly awaiting my announcement.

  “I have a little surprise for Leslie!” I reveal, while catching Liam’s eyes traveling up my legs and to my face. He doesn’t look very happy.

  Ignoring him, I continue, “We’re going to play a game. A game Lesli
e and I used to rule in our formidable years.” I pause for dramatic effect, “It’s Tippy-Cup Tiiiiime!” I announce proudly, smiling down at Leslie.

  She jumps up and down, eagerly clapping her hands as the straps of her white tank top fall off and reveal more of her lacy red bra. Theo rushes over from the kitchen to pull her straps up protectively, then attempts to pull the front of the tank up to cover the bra entirely. Unfortunately for him, her tank top isn’t long enough for that, so he gives up and scowls at her broodingly. Leslie is going to have her hands full with that one.

  Leslie brushes him away and shouts up at me, “I can nearly see your kooo-ca, you saucy minx!”

  My eyes turn wide and my hand immediately goes down to pull the hem of my lace dress down. It’s incredibly tight and doesn’t budge an inch. I feel warmth traveling up the back of my calf and turn to see Ethan’s hand caressing it.

  I reach out to swat his hand away and see Liam in front of me. He places his hands on my waist and lifts me down off the chair in one swift motion.

  “I’m telling you, Ethan,” Liam glares at him, accusingly.

  “Relax, mate! We’re all here to have a good time, get a little wild. Right love?” Ethan winks over at me.

  Before Liam can reply, I say, “Hands-free fun is fun too!”

  “No such thing,” Ethan drawls out.

  “If you’re so in love with your hands, use them on yourself,” I say. Leslie falls into a fit of giggles beside me.

  Ethan doesn’t look amused and Liam looks like he’s about to hulk out on Ethan any second.

  “Aw, Fin! Look at these callouses!” Leslie says, grabbing Ethan’s large hand. “His unit is probably bruised and bloodied from overuse of his hands! Poor buddy, you haven’t had any in a long time have you? No wonder he was touching your leg, Finny! He probably mistook it for that whopper of a dick he’s packing!” She giggles again and makes a jerking motion with her hand.

  I explode into laughter and watch her nudge Ethan with her hip in a playful manner. Ethan’s hard glare doesn’t last long before he smiles back at her. She obviously stroked his ego just enough to not anger him. Plus, Leslie has the best laugh. It’s infectious, so when she laughs hard like that it’s impossible to stay mad at her.