by Messe, Ellie
“What about Vanessa or James?”
“Those are your friends.”
“Our friends.”
“Sure, sure. I know them through you, but I’ve never hung out with them or anyone else when you weren’t there.”
“That’s because your some hermit that spends her birthdays working.”
I shrug, hoisting myself off the pull out before offering her my hand.
Drawing her upright, I jerk forward when she swats my butt, “Jerk.”
“I only work until eight so be ready when I get home so we can go to dinner.”
I nod, producing an obnoxious yawn.
“You talk to your mom yet?” She asks, poking her head into the fridge.
“Yeah, her and my dad called earlier. I also got a text from your parents; they sent me flowers. Should be here later today.”
“They never send me flowers.” She whines.
“Nope, just rent money.” I tease. Her response is to throw a cup of yogurt at me.
Laughing, I set it on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.
“I’m going to go shower.”
“Dress cute tonight, please?”
“I planned on wearing that skirt with the denim jacket, is that okay?”
“Yeah, that works. Oh, hey, is it okay if I invite people to go out with us?”
I shrug, “I don’t care.”
“Cool, the more people we invite, the more free booze you get.”
Valid. Though I’m not a big drinker, I can usually sneak it to Amy who loves alcohol.
Wishing her a good day, I slip into the bathroom.
Quarter to nine, my hair's done, makeup's on, and I'm fully dressed scrolling through Facebook, thanking people for their birthday wishes when Amy comes in.
“Hey,” She starts, shutting the door, “Sorry. It took forever to get a cab.”
“It’s okay.” I smile, “Take your time; we have all night.”
“How’d work go?” She asks from the belly of her bedroom.
“Good. Finished one of the books I was working on and got started on another. What about you?”
She scoffs, “Hell. Apparently, when you do your job right, you get to do everyone else’s too. I swear I hate people.”
I smile, looking down at the laptop. Scrolling down, I see Logan’s comment on my photo. Out of morbid curiosity, I click on his profile.
His profile picture is of him on a boat; he’s wearing a pair of aviators, a black tee, and swim trunks. It’s stupid how he can still look good with no effort.
Clicking through his photo, I notice a woman, equally as beautiful as him, appears in more than one image. She’s got stunning blue eyes and platinum blonde hair; everything about her screams wealthy. They look like the perfect match, I wonder who she is, not that I’ll ever ask, but I am curious. Looking through the comments and likes, I try to find her profile, but nothing comes of my search.
“Ready?”
“Look at this girl,” I angle the screen at Amy.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know. She’s in a bunch of pictures with Logan though.”
“Has he mentioned a girlfriend or anything?” I shake my head, “Maybe she’s an ex.”
“Maybe. She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”
She shrugs, “I guess.”
I know damn well Amy thinks she’s just as pretty as I do, but Amy’s petty and will disregard anyone who isn’t me when it comes to Logan; she seems to believe we’re destined for one another, her words not mine.
Setting my computer down, I get up to meet her at the door.
“Where to, birthday girl?”
After eating at my favorite burger joint, we walk hand in hand down the streets of Lenox Hill. Every few feet, she extends her phone for ‘birthday selfies’ as she calls them.
“At this rate, we’re never going to get to the bar,” I tell her, smiling broadly for the photo.
Lowering the phone, she looks over the image, “It’s just up here.”
“Up where?” I look around, “These are all expensive up here.”
“Not where we’re going.”
I think her information might be bad, but I don’t tell her that. This is my old neighborhood, if there were a cheap bar close by I’d have known about it, the only places I know of are clubs with cover charges.
“See?” She waves at a building to our right.
“All I see is Royals,” I admit, trying to find the secret hole in the wall bar she must be pointing to.
“That’s it.”
I stop, halting her with me, “We can’t afford this place. It’s like a hundred bucks a person.”
“Not tonight it’s not.” She says jerking her arm forward, so I stumble after her.
“Look at the line,” I nod to the sea of people crowding the sidewalk, “Even if we could afford it, it’s not like we’d ever get in.”
“Trust me.” She says shimming up to the doorman. I don’t think this is going to work out the way she wants it to. “Hi, Amy Marshal and Devina Anderson.”
Raising the board at his hip, he looks over his list. I’m shocked when he nods us through.
“Whoa, seriously?”
“I told you.” She smiles, looping her arm through mine.
Walking inside, music blares from overhead speakers. Multicolored lights bounce off the walls reminding me of a rave. Everything is high end and chic looking. Following the crowd to the bar area, I’m redirected to the left. “Wait, isn’t the club that way?” I point over my shoulder.
“Yeah, but we’re not going there.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
I follow her up a set of stairs, passing by a sign that reads, VIP ONLY.
“What have you done?” I yell over the music.
“Managed to keep my mouth shut.” She smiles.
“What does that mean?”
She doesn’t have the opportunity to answer before a group of familiar faces smile back at me from a private bar.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
All at once everyone starts singing Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs. Amy pushes me forward to the center of the group; I’m surprised to see Logan among the many faces, leaning casually against the bar, he too sings along.
I’m passed around to all of Amy, and I’s mutual friends, showered with birthday wishes and hugs, the last being Logan.
“I thought you were out of town?” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist in a quick embrace.
“I lied.”
“Clearly.” I smile, “So I take it I have you to thank for the location?”
“And the free booze!” Amy says, handing me a shot glass.
Looking up from my glass, I met his blue eyes. “Really?” He nods, picking up his glass of amber liquid. Warmth blooms in my chest at his generosity, “Thank you.”
“Who’s going to toast?” Amy asks, her eyes searching to make sure everyone has a glass.
“I’ll do it.” Logan volunteers, raising his tumbler. Masking my surprise, I raise my glass with everyone else, “To Devina! You don’t look a day over forty-two.” I roll my eyes, joining in the surrounding laughter. “Happy Birthday, Duck.”
“To Duck!” They all chorus, making me laugh at their use of his less than appealing nickname for me.
After everyone’s glass clinks against mine, we throw them back in unison, the bitter sting of the tequila coats my throat with a hotline.
Amy woos, dropping her empty glass on the bar, “Let’s dance!”
“I’m going to need more alcohol before that happens.” Logan’s brow quirks, “You too if you’re going to be witness to it.”
Leaning over the bar, Logan orders us another round, giving me a double this time. I can already tell tomorrow’s going to suck when I down the double in record speed, my head warms immediately; oh yeah, definitely going suck. Not being a big fan of alcohol, I’m an extreme lightweight. But you only tu
rn twenty-eight once, so fuck it.
This time when Amy reaches for my hand, I let her take it. Her hips are gyrating before we even reach the dance floor. You know you’re ‘that girl’ when three shots have you buzzing hard enough you think you’re the next winner of, So you think you can dance.
My hips sway to the music, my arms raised high above my head, allowing the alcohol to take the wheel for a while. I’m in that sweet spot of drinking; lose, free, and completely uncaring to the world around me. Giddy with booze and music, and I let them both run wild through my veins.
Amy sways closer, locking her fingers between mine, I’m spun around in circles, the club blurring into a sea of lines, just as my head starts to fog, I’m twirled back into a rock hard chest. Air expels from my lungs in a rush, as I draw my first breath; it’s thick with the familiar sporty scent of Logan.
He smiles a brilliant smile, “Look at you, all carefree and beautiful.”
“I thought I was the forty-year-old ugly duck.” I tease, letting him draw me into his hips.
“Yeah, well, you’re so ugly you’re cute.”
Smiling off his jab, I close my eyes, soaking up the heat of the room, the rhythm of the music, and the strong arms around me.
My high is interrupted by a blonde, balancing four shot glasses. “Bottom’s up, girlie.”
Taking two of them, we swallow in quick succession. After handing them back to her, I fall into Logan once again, “I haven’t drank this much in a couple of years.” I admit, “I don’t know what kind of drunk I am, so I apologize in advance.”
“It’s your birthday; you can puke if you want to.”
“On you, if I can get my aim right.” He shrugs, the right side of his mouth tipping up, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“It’s your birthday. Plus I like this side of you.”
“And what’s so different?”
“You haven’t stopped smiling since we got here.”
“Shut up,” I scold, “I smile.”
“Not like this.” He shakes his head, his face growing serious, “You don’t have a care in the world do you?”
“Nope.” I giggle when he spins me again, though he takes mercy on me and only does it once before pulling me flush against him.
The sober part of me warns that I’m too close, that we’re too close, but the alcohol quickly shoves sober me into a dark corner and embraces the moment.
I don’t know how long we dance for but by the time Amy pulls us all back to the bar I’m covered in a fine layer of sweat and my heart is beating almost as fast as the techno number blaring from the overhead speakers.
“My turn!” Amy announces with an angelic smile, she raises her glass high, “I’ve known this bitch for twenty-four years. She’s cuddled me when I’ve been upset, held my hair when I was drunk and has been there at every turn in my life, cheering me on like a crazy person. We’ve fought, shared our most guarded secrets, and driven each other to the point of insanity. But if there’s anyone on this earth that I would want to be crazy with, it’s this bombshell right here. To twenty-four years of memories, twenty-four years of sisterhood, and twenty-four years of having the greatest best friend this world has ever seen! I love you with all my heart, Happy Birthday, Dee!”
Amy clinks her glass on mine before kissing me square on the mouth in her timeless tradition of ‘Birthday Kisses,’ the others follow suit, tapping my glass with theirs before pecking me on the lips. This is old news to me; it’s been the norm for so long that it’s never been awkward or uncomfortable; until now.
Time slows down entirely while butterflies rage war. Logan gently knocks his tumbler against mine, the side of his mouth tipping up. My heart beats out of control as his fingers snake around my neck, gently tipping my head back,
And.
The.
World.
Stops.
His lips press against mine, soft and firm, molding perfectly around me for what feels like an eternity before pulling away, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. It’s like a cliffhanger at the end of a really good book, you’re floored by how great it was, but at the same time, you feel disappointment that’s it over and physically ache to continue.
Drawing my bottom lip nervously between my teeth, I note the bourbon lingering on my skin. I know it only lasted a fraction of a second, but it feels so much longer.
“To Devina!” Amy shouts, utterly unfazed by what just happened.
Lazily lifting my glass, I sneak a peek at Logan before erasing the taste of his drink with mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Ah!” Amy shrieks, “No!” Bending low, she attempts to pick up one of her heels that slipped out of her drunken fingers; it dances across the sidewalk before she finally manages to grab the ankle strap. “I just dropped my Valentino Garavani’s on the ground!” She whines into her Snapchat story.
Logan has his arm draped over my shoulder as we walk back to the apartment. I know he has a car we could have taken, but I don’t remember why we chose to walk instead.
It’s almost four in the morning, and we’re all trashed. I think Logan’s even a little drunk; we’re both guilty of being a little touch-friendly tonight. Searching my alcohol-induced thoughts, I try to remember a moment where one of us wasn’t touching the other in one way or another but come up empty.
I’m too drunk to care; I was too drunk to care after shot four, to be honest. He smells good and has strong arms, not to mention he’s gorgeous.
“How are you feeling, Dee?” She asks, still holding up her phone.
“Intoxicated.” I laugh, leaning into Logan’s ribs for support.
Reaching up, I pull his jacket tighter around my shoulders. It must be freezing if I’m able to feel the chill of the night with this much booze running through my system.
“Home sweet home.” Amy sighs, pulling the lobby door open. Logan catches it and holds it open for me.
Amy’s taking the stairs like a pro while the first step almost sends me falling on my ass.
“Whoa,” I sway feeling like I weigh about a hundred pounds too much, a firm hand lands on my lower back. “I don’t remember these stairs being quite this daunting, or angled.”
Logan laughs, raising a fist in the air, “Have no fear, the millionaire’s here!”
Taking my arm, he throws it over his shoulder, twisting, so his back is against my front. Bending low, he hooks his fingers behind my knees and lifts me onto his back. I squeal with delight, squeezing his neck in fear of falling while the room spins in multiple directions.
Amy laughs running up the stairs in front of us, shoes in one hand, cell phone in the other, “Ahhh!” She yells into the screen before angling it over her shoulder, “Say hi to Snapchat!”
“Hi!” Logan and I sing at once, both laughing like idiots.
“Oh em gee, aren’t they freaking adorable?!” She whines into the screen. A second later I hear our laughter echoing out of her phone.
Running across the landing, she sprints halfway up the next flight before turning abruptly, using the wall to steady her intoxicated body, “Say cheese!”
Shaking my head to remove the hair from my face, I grin like an idiot over Logan’s shoulder, “Cheeeeese.”
Amy laughs, typing on her phone.
Finally making it to the fourth floor, Logan lets me slide off his back. The hall spins as Amy unlocks the door, throwing her shoes across the room upon entry. And to think she was just screaming about how she dropped one.
“I don’t want tonight to end.” She says, spinning in fast circles, arms wide. Losing balance, she falls to the floor in a heap of laughter.
Logan must’ve closed the door behind himself because when I turn to do it, I find it already shut.
“Ugh, tonight was fun.” I hear the slur in my words but don’t attempt to correct it.
“Ames, help me get the couch out,” I say, stumbling forward. I grab one of the cushions and throw it at the useless heap of a best friend s
till cackling on the floor.
I’m surprised when a pair of hands appear in front of me, removing the middle seat, oh yeah, Logan’s here. After pulling the coffee table to the side, he pulls the mattress out effortlessly, that usually takes me two or three tries and here he is showing me up.
I waste no time climbing into the center of my bed, oh this feels like heaven.
“You better not be going to sleep,” Amy growls, crawling onto the mattress.
“I’m not,” I mumble, my hand fumbling over the contents of the table until I find the remote.
“Come on, Logan.” She reaches forward, taking his hand and pulls him forward. “Every year we watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s together. You’re my plus one.”
My body’s an anvil as I try to pull my dead limbs upright to make room for him. He sits against the back of the couch next to me, his long legs crossed at the ankle while Amy lays at our feet, attempting to get the DVD onto the tray without having to get up.
After a few tries, she succeeds, collapsing into the mattress, “How come we never think to put the disc in before we get drunk?”
“And miss all that?” Logan asks with a laugh. “I hope you never remember.”
“Don’t jinx us,” I whine, trying to focus my eyes long enough to skip forward to the menu. I feel like an owl; eyes wide after exaggerated blinks just for a half-second of clarity. Finally, I find the right button and start the movie.
“I want a poor slob without a name.” Amy cries, staring longingly at the screen.
“A what?” Logan asks in genuine confusion.
“That’s what Holly calls the cat in this movie.” I answer for her, “She’s allergic to them though so she can’t have one.”
He gives a heavy nod; I don’t think I’m the only one who feels like they weigh too much.
Sinking lower, I feel the dryness of my eyes and the pull of peaceful surrender; I make it until Paul steps out of the cab before my eyes seal shut.
LOGAN
I have the most beautiful woman in existence in my arms right now. Her hair spilled across my chest in brown waves, her tight little body folded into my ribs, her legs tangled around mine, I’m in heaven. Well, except for the raging hard-on. Very, very slowly I free my hand from under her arm, adjusting my dick to be less obvious before pulling my phone out of my pocket. Searching for nearby restaurants, I find one with a to-go menu and order us all a greasy breakfast of eggs, bacon, and bagels before forwarding the order to Caleb.