Indulge

by Liv Morris

  Whitley’s rocking a black mini skirt and sparkly silver top with, wait for it… Black cowboy boots! Her blonde hair is in a French braid and she makes a perfect city-girl-got-a-taste-of-country.

  And me? Frick and Frack have had way too much fun dressing me in skintight dark jeans, knee high black boots and a shiny red top that hangs loose and low in the front and is held together with one strap across the open back. I’ve already warned them that when Dane’s head blows off and spins into orbit, they’re to blame. My hair is down, eyes smoky and lips shiny. I’m ready to roll.

  I’d say I was ready to party like it’s 1999, but Whitley made me swear I’d never say that out loud again.

  Dane sent a car for us, and we may or may not have had a pre-game toast in the back on our way over. I mean, if you send a car with a bottle chillin’ in the back, it’s kinda like a note on it that says “Drink Me!”

  The K is on full blast when we walk in, and even I feel excited butterflies in my stomach at the electric atmosphere. Dane’s tapping the door at one-hundred heads tonight; we want the club feel, but not overcrowding. He’s got amateurs behind the bar, too, so Tate and Sawyer can enjoy themselves, so there’s no sense overwhelming the newbies.

  “Work Out” by J Cole is playing, my jam, and with the bubbly I downed on the ride over, I’m ready to dance like nobody’s watching. I should probably find Dane first, but something tells me he’ll find me, so I pull Whit and Bennett onto the floor.

  One song blends into another, the three of us waving our hands in the air exactly like we just don’t care. I’m all about tonight, and being out on the floor with everyone dancing and having fun is great, but when random hands grab my hips from behind and pull me into a body I know by instinct isn’t Dane’s, I panic. I turn my head and am met with the watery, drunken eyes of a stranger and my heart starts to race uncontrollably.

  I look around, but Bennett and Whitley are in their own little dancing world, paying me no attention. I try to pull away, but Handsy thinks I’m just dancing, or he doesn’t care, and pushes himself into me harder, firming up his grip on my hips. I turn my whole body now, fighting against his grip and slapping his arm. “Let go!” I say sternly, not wanting to completely cause a scene. “I have a boyfriend!”

  “Huh?”

  “Back off!” I try again, but he just smirks and grinds into my side now that I’ve pivoted. “Seriously,” I yell, trying to escape his hold again, tears of adrenaline rather than sadness burning in the backs of my eyes.

  “Chill, girl,” he slurs way too close to my face, beer breath in full effect.

  I lift my knee, fight response kicking in when my knight speaketh. “I heard her say ‘let go’ loud and clear. How’d you miss it, asshole?”

  “Fuck off,” McGrabberson smarts off, finally releasing his hold of me.

  I turn just in time to see Dane rear back and punch the guy smoothly in the face, barreling over the top of him when he goes down. Dane pulls him off the floor by his collar, jaw clenched as he speaks inches from his face.

  “If a lady says ‘let go,’ you let the fuck go. Get the hell out of my bar and don’t let me see you back in here.”

  He drops him flat again and sticks out his hand for me, no room for hesitation in his scowl. I place my shaking hand in his and struggle to keep up as he pulls me off the floor. I turn back to check on the girls, seeing that Tate and Evan are now by their sides and Zach is escorting the now- bleeding dirty dancer out the door.

  “All right, all right,” Sawyer says through the mic. “Sorry for that, folks! Next round is on the house! And the gorgeous blonde in the red— hands off, guys. Now have some fun!”

  “Would you slow down?” I plead with Dane’s back as I trip on the stairs he’s literally dragging me up. “Dane, stop! I’m gonna fall!”

  No preamble, I’m now flying through the air, tossed over the shoulder of one severely pissed off Dane Kendrick. Now I can’t see where we’re going, hanging upside down and staring at his ass, but we’re going there in big, fast stomps. He digs in his pocket and I hear a lock click, a light comes on, then I’m placed on my feet.

  “Where are we?” I ask, looking around while I attempt to get my hair out of my face.

  “My office,” he snarls, locking the door and keeping his back to me, forehead pressed against the wood. He’s taking deep, slow breaths in and out; I can see every muscle of his back and shoulders heaving under his white dress shirt.

  “Hey.” I touch his shoulder, shocked that he flinches at my touch.

  “Hang on.” He holds up a finger and sighs. “Please just give me a minute.”

  I back away, letting him calm down and take in my surroundings. Not that I come here a lot, but how have I never seen his office? I scan again, more closely this time. It’s very “Danesque,” with large, bold furniture, minimal color and perfect order. On his desk is a picture of me. It’s in black and white, a close up of my face in profile. I don’t remember him taking it, but there it is—the thing he chooses to have right next to him—me.

  When I turn back around to see if he’s settled a bit, he’s staring back at me. “It was the day we went fishing with your dad. You were lost in thought. The wind blew your hair in your face and you didn’t even notice. I tell myself, every time I look at it, that you were thinking of me.”

  “I probably was.” I walk towards him now, seeing he’s back to himself. He reaches a hand out to me, gently this time, and I take it, letting him pull me into his chest. “Are you okay?” His voice is strained, a mix between caged anger and fear.

  I shake my head, rubbing a palm over his heart that I can feel pounding erratically. “I’m fine, babe, it’s over now.”

  “I was watching you dance, smiling, having fun. I saw him move in and I got to you as soon as I could. Not soon enough. Were you scared?” He kisses the top of my head and squeezes me tighter. “Did he hurt you?” His voice cracks now, as though he’s afraid to hear the answer.

  “No. I mean yes, I was a little scared, maybe just surprised. And no, he didn’t hurt me.” I lift my head from his chest and grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Hey, I’m fine. He was a little grabby and forward, but nothing crazy bad. I’m fine, I promise.”

  “I wanted to kill him. I still do.” His jaw ticks and I lift my hand to cup it, running my thumb back and forth slowly.

  “Babe, it’s okay, calm down. Some guys are jerks and think all girls on a dance floor are up for that sort of thing. But he didn’t hurt me, and I don’t feel overly violated or anything. You got there in plenty of time. Thank you.” I lift up and kiss him softly. “I love you and I really am fine. Are you okay?”

  He scoffs, kissing my forehead. “Worried about me.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I lost it, but no one’s allowed to touch you like that.” He holds me tighter, inhaling a big breath. “Can you meet up with me before you dance next time?”

  I know he wanted so badly to make that a demand instead of a request. I’m a firm believer in reinforcing good behavior. “Absolutely. Good idea, babe. Now,” I look up at him and smile flirtatiously, trying to lighten the mood, “can you kiss me senseless then come dance with me?”

  He groans, taking my mouth in a feverish kiss, unleashing his frustration in it. His hands roam greedily, grabbing my ass and pulling me fiercely against his hardening groin. “We could just stay in here, have our own party,” he suggested, his voice hoarse.

  As tempting as that sounds, all our friends are waiting for us, and he is kinda the host. And we do that all the time, but rarely do I agree to “tie one on.” It pains me to say it, but I do it anyway. “Babe, we need to go be with our friends. We’ll be alone later.”

  “You’re my friend.” He sinks his teeth into my neck, teasing every part of me at once. “Just for a little while?” he pleads.

  “If I have to hang and be all shits and giggles, so do you!” Impeccably timed as always, Sawyer’s yell comes through the door as he beats on it. “Pull your panties up
! You too, Laney, and get your asses out here!”

  “Why in the hell are we friends with him again?” Dane grumbles as he adjust himself, then scans over me with somber eyes, reassuring himself one last time that I am, in fact, all right.

  “Because he’s wonderful and we love him.” I kiss him then grab his hand. “Now come on and have fun, dammit, or no nookie for you later.”

  “Hi!” I greet Sawyer when I open the door. “We were just coming to find you.”

  “Uh huh,” he smirks, “now listen. Zach doesn’t want a scene, so stay cool, but Avery just walked in.”

  “She can’t stay. I want Zach to have fun.” I start walking, feeling them both hot on my heels. No scene, huh? I might have actually considered it, but it appears that ship has sailed—first Dane’s fight and now this. When I spot Avery, she’s hanging on the front of Zach’s shirt, pleading with him. Zach is trying to remove her hands and looks very much inconvenienced. Enter another scene.

  “Hey, Avery!” I bust up on them unnoticed. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  “It’s fine, Laney,” Zach assures me.

  “Yeah, Laney, butt out,” Avery sneers.

  See, now I have a real dilemma. I haven’t had words with Avery and I’ve been nothing but cordial at all the practices I’ve seen her at since she cheated on my friend publicly... And I wasn’t rude just now, I simply asked if I could talk to her. But now, she’s changed things up a bit.

  “Not gonna happen, Ave,” I say. “Now, let’s keep things cool. We have to play ball together, after all. How about you just leave and go have fun somewhere else? That’s all I’m asking, and nicely.” That’s swing two, she only gets three.

  “Avery, why don’t you head out, okay? I can have a car take you anywhere you want to go,” Dane suggests politely from beside me.

  “Oh, Mr. High and Mighty, you can fuck right off. Zach,” she looks up at him, “tell them this is between me and you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I answer for him, my blood pressure rising to alarming heights. Why’s she attacking Dane? “We’re a Crew. You screw with one of us, you screw with all of us. You had that, but what you did to Zach, well, we don’t take that kind in, so just leave. Now. I’m no longer asking. And watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking to him.” I point at Dane. “He didn’t do shit to you.”

  Dane puts a hand on my arm now, as if to hold me back. It’s funny, I’ve never put my hands on anyone, just talked. My dad had a golden rule of his own: “you best make sure they hit you first. Never start it, always finish it.” So until someone hits me, that’s all we’ll ever do—talk.

  “Zach, please come with me. Don’t choose them over me. I love you, just talk to me,” Avery begs, and we all wait silently. This part is totally Zach’s call.

  “Can you make sure she gets to her car safely?” he turns and asks Sawyer, almost looking sad, but really just seeming over it.

  “No prob.” Saw salutes him. “Let’s go, twin.”

  “I’ll see you,” she jabs her finger in my chest, “on the field.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” I smile, killing her with kindness. Besides, all she can do is hit me with a pitch, and that’s a free base, bitch, so bring it. Otherwise, pitch it and I’ll go yard on your ass all day. You show the hold in your glove, dumbass.

  We watch Avery slap at Sawyer as he walks her and two girls I don’t know out.

  Zach turns to the bar and slaps his hand down on it. “Shots!” he yells, shocking us all.

  Of course, we’re waited on immediately and I get my first intro to something called a Buttery Nipple. Delicious.

  Another one and I’m ready to get busy on the floor. There’s a slow song playing, so I have time to coax the boys out there with me. We make it just in time for “We Going Home” by Drake and I turn my back to Dane and pull his hands around me. My man can move, and our bodies find their rhythm with each other on their own.

  Though I’m usually not much of a dancer, I can definitely see the appeal. A few shots to loosen you up, the right song and the man you trust behind you, and it becomes more an erotic act than dancing.

  “You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he croons in my ear, his hands teasing just under the bottom of my shirt, finding the bare skin of my stomach. “I love you like this, so untamed. You dance like you fuck, smooth and sexy.”

  His words intoxicate me more than the alcohol. I can feel his hard-on pressed against my ass as he grinds his hips into me, swirling our lower halves in time to the beat. I throw one hand around his neck, arching my ass out and into him roughly, then really shake it, loving the sound of his groan over the beat.

  “You ready to leave, baby?”

  “No,” I giggle, knowing he’s dying to go, but I may never have the nerve to do this again—I’ve gotta make the night last.

  “Then we need to take a break or I’m gonna give it to ya right here.”

  I turn in his arms now, emboldened, and all of a sudden dying to try out a move I saw in a movie once. I fist his shirt in one hand and drop to the floor, then pull myself slowly back up his body, straddling one of his legs.

  “Fuckkkk,” he moans in my mouth as he grabs me by the back of the neck and kisses the hell out of me. “Enough. We leaving and doing this for real or not?” he pants, begging me with his eyes to pick the former.

  “Dayummm, Gidge, you been hiding your freak!” Sawyer laughs in my ear, now right beside us. “You guys, come on, everybody’s at a table. Whitley wants to do a toast.”

  I have to chuckle when Dane lets out a pouting huff and makes me drag him to join our friends. More shots are waiting when we get there and Whitley raises hers.

  “To old friends,” she taps her glass to Dane, Sawyer and Tate, “to new friends,” now she taps me, Bennett and Zach, “and to forevers.” She clinks with Evan last. “May this year be filled with love, laughs and straight A’s. Cheers!”

  We all join glasses now and down them, though this one not my favorite. Coconut, yuck. “Whitley, truth or dare?” I wipe my mouth and ask, amidst the collective moans of the guys.

  “I’ll go tell em’ last call,” Tate’s already in motion, “something tells me this just became a private party.”

  “Have you ever been this drunk before?” I ask my very inebriated, cute as hell girlfriend, currently chanting “The Roof’s on Fire” as we’re driven to my house.

  “Nope, have you?”

  I only did one shot, no one noticing, so obviously I’m fine but explaining that to her now would be futile. “Come here,” I chuckle and pull on her belt loops. She’s climbing around like a monkey and I think she’s about to go for a sing and spread your arms out the roof moment. “There’s no moon roof in this car, baby,” I try to explain as I pull her down into my lap. “You’re one sexy mess.”

  Tonight was great, though, aside from the one issue early on. After we’d closed the doors and thinned the crowd, Laney really let go finally, Whitley and Bennett happy to follow suit. You’d think with one fight and an appearance by an ex, we’d be out of highlights, but alas, it gets better. The most interesting part of the night had to be the drunken, more risqué than usual game of Truth or Dare, because of which I now know several new exciting facts. For starters, Whitley could easily be a pole dancer if she ever desires. Bennett has a belly button ring of a “T.” Sawyer does a mean worm and has seven piercings, which not only was he not allowed to show, but I refused to try and guess as to their whereabouts. Evan’s actually not a bad singer and can shotgun a beer fastest of the guys. Zach has a very white ass and cannot tie a cherry stem with his tongue to save it. My brother, when forced to judge, gives Laney “best ass” (tell me something I don’t know), Whitley “best tits” and Bennett “best all in one.” Yep, TOD led by drunk girls is super informative. And everyone else is now fully aware that I have some bossy tendencies in the bedroom—Laney’s truth share, not mine. Miss Too Many Shots Blabbermouth got ahead of herself though and spilled the beans about �
��Pussy Persuasion.” I could go on and on, but I’d rather just figure out a way to self-induce amnesia, except for the last part— I’m on to her now, the little minx.

  Her light snoring grabs my attention and I look down at the beautiful girl now asleep with her head in my lap, body curled into a little ball half on top of me. She’s gonna be a hungover bear tomorrow, but for now, for now she’s a snoring, snuggly angel. That sweet little mouth puckers as she blows out her signature puffs of air, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and her hands wrapped around my waist under my shirt. I brush the hair off her forehead and kiss her there. “I adore you, Laney Walker. I can’t wait to marry you.”

  “Okay,” she purrs, snuggling deeper into my side.

  God, what I’d give for her to say that sober and awake.

  “Sawyer, we’re gonna be late!” I scream through a mouth full of Crunchberries.

  There’s a knock at the front door, interrupting my breakfast. When I open it, I’m met with a sea of blue…roses. I gasp and reach for the vase, uncovering a young delivery boy.

  “Laney Walker?” he asks.

  “That’s me!”

  “Here you go,” he hands me a light blue envelope, “have a nice day.”

  I shut the door and take them to the kitchen counter, inhaling their sweet fragrance. I know who they’re from, but once again, he has floored me—where does one even find a blue rose? And this early in the morning? I open the card, more than anxious to read what it says.

  My Disney,

  I’m sorry I can’t see you off to your first day of sophomore year today. No doubt you look beautiful and will kick butt!

  Blue roses are thought to mean “the impossible” and eleven of any color mean “you are my treasure, that which I love most in my life.” Both are true. You are absolutely the most treasured and loved thing that will ever exist in my world, impossibly so.

  I will see you tonight. Nothing could keep me from it. I’ll want to hear all about your day. And how much you missed and loved me of course.