Found by Drew, page 3
I loved her when she got me motivated, but I had a funny feeling about this evening; it was not going to go as I wanted. Call it intuition or whatever you liked – something felt off.
Shaking my head, I laughed about how forceful my friend could be. I did as instructed, only to sit on the bed with a melodramatic thump. I stared at the clothes spread all over the bed and started putting away the options I had ruled out, so I at least had a small space to sleep when I got home later. Hearing the clump of Annie’s heavy feet moving along the hall, I pretended to finish off my face, even though I was still prancing about in the scruffy and very unflattering underwear I was ashamed I even owned. But all girls have their comfy knickers, right?
“Better, but you’re not seriously going to wear those out, are you? Blokes can sniff granny pants out from miles away. You’ve got to get with the modern world, Lia.” Annie giggled, surveying my ensemble with distaste. Handing me a rosé spritzer that looked more rosé than lemonade, she walked over to my underwear drawer and started picking out my clothes for the evening. Blanching when she held up the skimpiest and most uncomfortable thong in my drawer, I decided I had to stop this before it went any further.
“Anns, I am not wearing them out in public! I save those for second dates.” I smirked, feeling more like my old self than I had in weeks. Maybe tonight would be okay after all. I was being a worrywart, anxious over nothing other than the next step on my journey and the inevitable change it would bring.
“Lia, you’re such a pansy! I’m only joking with you,” said Annie with a wink.
She was a tease at times, but it lightened my mood the moment she put the offending item back into the drawer. To replace them, she pulled out something equally as lacy, although much more appropriate for a quiet night out with friends. It might cover 50% of my arse, if only for a short while, at least. Every tiny movement would make it ride to places I shuddered to think about. It’s a well-known fact attractive lingerie is never in the same pile as the comfortable ones; worth wearing if someone might rip it off with their teeth at the end of the night though. But for a giggle with the girls, I'd have preferred something safer and more comfortable. I had no intentions of a one-night stand being part of my ‘healing’ process. Not this time.
“They’re better,” I replied with a smile. “But what am I going to wear with them? I have nothing decent in this wardrobe and the taxi is due any minute.” I pouted, still doing my damndest to get out of the evening.
“The taxi isn’t due for a while yet. I know what you’re like, so I ordered it for later than I told you.” With a smile full of mischief, Annie turned to the wardrobe and flicked through the myriad of clothes on offer. Muttering ‘no’ and the occasional ‘hell no’ as she perused my extensive collection, I continued to half-heartedly apply the make-up I was so inept at using. Daytime basics were easy, but eyeliner flicks, smoky eyes, and lip liner – my worst nightmare. By the end of a good night, it always looked like panda eyes anyway, and there was nothing worse than scrubbing it off before bed with too much booze impairing your coordination skills. Hearing a squeal of pleasure from deep within my wardrobe, I assumed Annie had found what she’d be dressing me in tonight.
“Oh, Lia! This is gorge-ous!” she said, splitting the word in two as she held out the slinky blue number I’d splurged on last week. I’d not even tried it on; I'd just thrown it into my basket and put it on my card. Navy, with black lace detailing, it was the kind of dress every girl deserved, but rarely had the occasion to wear. It had spoken to me from the rack, and I couldn’t resist it. Everyone has been in those situations, right? Although not quite the responsible ‘emergency’ spending my dad had in mind when he’d given me the card, I figured what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, broken hearts are classed as emergencies, aren’t they?
“We’re going for drinks at the local, not silver service at the Ritz! Talk about overdressed,” I grumbled. That was another reputation I'd picked up over the years, the one who always wore something which did not match with the general definition of smart-casual. What can I say? I’m a sucker for pretty dresses. Once you buy them, you’ve got to give them airtime every now and again.
“Amelia Martha Hayes, you are going to quit your whining and wear. The. Fucking. Dress,” said Annie, voice full of the authority you’d expect from someone who worked with rebellious teenagers for a living. I watched as she ripped the labels from the dress and threw it at my face. “There, might as well get your money’s worth out of it.”
“Fuck’s sake, Annie. I hadn’t even tried it on!”
“Well, hop to it then.”
Great. Now I had to keep it, whether it fit or not. Pulling the soft fabric over my head, I wiggled it down past my ample chest and adjusted it in my mirror so it hugged my curves in all the right places. My toned legs were, even if I did think so myself, stunning, albeit a little wobblier than they had once been. A cleavage you could get lost in and a flat-ish stomach, despite all my chocolate binges, made me smile. Somehow, it fit, despite everything I’d consumed over the last month; thank you, Lycra. As I stood admiring the dress, and myself, a loud wolf whistle called me back to the present.
“Lia, I'm not into women, but in that dress... well, you’re my newest girl crush. Now, the taxi will be here in ten and we still need to finish your face off. Sit, and do exactly as I say, when I say it,” instructed Annie.
I was helpless to argue, but she was done with minutes to spare and I marvelled at her skills whilst taking copious numbers of selfies in the taxi. God knows I moaned about Annie, but she was, without a doubt, the best friend you could hope for.
Our local haunt was just a short drive away, and before we knew it, we were standing in the warm evening breeze, drinks—both doubles—in our hands, and catching up with the rest of the girls. Meg, our friend from school, had her trademark ripped skinny jeans and vest top combo, showing off the top of her detailed back piece. It was a large fantasy tattoo, a nod to the imaginary worlds she’d loved growing up, and still got lost in now. It was an intricate design, a talking point wherever we went, and that had earned her no end of numbers. And then there was Eva, her classic beauty better matched to a 1940s red carpet than a small pub in our little corner of nowhere.
“Well, hot dayum, ladies! Where was my memo to dress to kill tonight?” came a voice from behind me that I would recognise anywhere. Jimmy, dressed in blue jeans and a tight, white t-shirt, pinched our backsides and pecked our cheeks in turn. More a friend of Annie’s that I'd poached over the years, he often referred to himself as my brother from another mother. As camp as they came and a proud member of the LGBTQ+ scene, Jimmy was full of one-liners, and with fashion sense enough for both sexes, he was every girl’s dream. Annie and I had always known he wasn’t a fan of the ladies, but he had declared his love for ‘pecs and pert arses’ publicly a few years ago, and it had been our pleasure to set him up on plenty of blind dates. I felt warmth radiate from my heart as he came close. He made everything feel right, and I hadn’t realised how much I'd missed him during my self-imposed confinement. His cheerful smile and flamboyant nature never failed to make me smile.
“No Ben tonight, Jimmy? He’s never got bored of you already?” I teased, shaking my head at the indignant pout he aimed my way.
“Darling, who could ever get fed up of me?”
Temporarily ignoring the others around us, we settled into our usual routine, each doing our best to outdo the other with a cheeky quip or a comment that was close to the knuckle. I'd often said if he wasn’t gay we’d have been perfect for each other, but I was happy enough to call him a bestie. Shame though. He fell right within my usual ‘type’ - muscles, cheeky smile, and a devil-may-care attitude.
“I’m sure I could name a few,” I said, almost crying with laughter at the face he pulled back at me.
“Oh, hush you, and wipe those eyes before Annie catches you ruining her ‘handiwork’, if that’s what you want to call it. I’ve seen children do better on those creepy doll heads.”
“Cheeky shit. You’re only jealous she didn’t do yours too. Now, seeing as you’re the last one here, go get some drinks.” I pushed him towards the bar. He pouted again and then wiggled his way through the beer garden and to the bar situated just inside the door. Shaking my head, I giggled as I turned my gaze to Meg, who was busy explaining her new job. She’d been picked up by a big brand make-up agency to run a new set of counters in the local shopping centre. As she was explaining how they would be doing lessons for dunces like me, I became distracted by a familiar voice. With a slight turn of my head, I spotted the trademark hand through the hair routine of the tall blond at the bar.
“Shit. Shit. Shit!” I muttered, fiddling with the hem on my dress and pushing as close to Annie as I could.
“I know I said I thought you looked hot, but that does not give you license to get in my pants, nor would I let you, for that matter,” joked Annie, her teasing smile dropping when she saw the look of sheer panic on my face. “What is it? Lia? Talk to me.”
I couldn’t gather the words. How could I have been so stupid? Of course he would have been here tonight. After all, it was his local too. Seeing him had winded me, and the words were trapped in my throat. I coughed and tried to speak, but nothing would come out. I twitched my head in Alex’s direction. Annie’s eyes went wide, and her mouth opened in a classic ‘o’. I'd have laughed if it wasn’t such a serious situation. Panic engulfed me. I could feel my breath getting shallow and my chest tightening.
“Oh, fuck me sideways,” was all Annie could manage before I started shaking. “Don’t worry, hun. We’ll go somewhere else. Lia, take a deep breath, okay, and just… oh, balls. Don’t look behind you.”
“Why are we moving on already? I’ve only just got the bloody drinks in.” Jimmy had always had bad timing; we’d teased him about it countless times. But right then, Jimmy’s oblivious nature was an absolute pain in the ass. He didn’t take long, returning from the bar with a tray he had balanced in one hand, showing off his skills learnt during many summers abroad. He shouted his next words a little too loudly for my liking. “Lia, why are we moving? I thought this was your favourite place.”
On a usual Friday night, there would have been a band playing, and chances were, he never would have heard my name. We could have still escaped, and that was exactly what I needed to do. The room was beginning to swim, and it wasn’t because I'd downed my double. Just my luck, tonight there was no band—no background music from the old jukebox in the corner either—and Jimmy’s voice carried across the empty beer garden to the crowded bar where he was ordering another pint. I watched in horror as his eyes widened and time seemed to go in that crazy slow-mo you see in movies as his head turned in our direction.
His hair, gelled back and almost shining in the dim light, caught my eye first. Before I could turn away, I saw his cracked lips start to form my name. All I wanted was for the ground to swallow me up. Of course, as we have already established, Mother Nature is a capricious and vindictive bitch who had forsaken me months ago. There was no way she’d oblige me with a sinkhole. And so, there I stood, smiling like an idiot as the man I was doing my best to forget walked, chest puffed out, right up to me and my friends. He took my arm and kissed the back of my hand, looking up through his thick lashes. Fuck me, he still looked gorgeous. I felt my knees go weak and I tried my hardest to avoid eye contact. Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it – the words were a mantra, repeating on a loop in my head, drowning out all other sounds around me.
The girls tutted and made it clear he wasn’t welcome with us, but he was impervious to them and their bitch stares. He'd never given a damn about what people thought of him before; why start now? My heart pounded in my chest as he looked me up and down. Turning us so his back was to my friends, I gave Annie a thumbs up when she poked her head around his side, her face a mixed bag of concern and anger. I needed to get this first meeting out of the way so I could move on, find someone better. Or at least that was how I convinced myself not to run away.
“Lia, long time no see, sweetheart. You’re looking stunning, babe.” Alex spoke in his gravelly voice which sent my stomach somersaulting and made my palms sweat. I wished it was with stress at the situation, but no. My body was betraying me yet again as it responded the only way it knew how to when he was in my personal space. I wanted to jump his bones, and at this rate, I'd fall for his charms again.
Doing my best to remain objective and avoid eye contact, I answered politely and moved to stand in the middle of my friends. Needless to say, none of them were pleased to see him, but the cold reception didn’t seem to bother him. With a confidence only he could manage, Alex stood there making small talk with the girls and Jimmy, whilst I rummaged with desperation in my bag. Shooting off a quick message to Annie, we were at the bar doing shots before he could mention Melinda and how cushy their coupled life was.
‘Ten tequilas, quick as you can, please,” I said to the barman, slamming a twenty on the sticky surface.
“Coming right up.” He smiled back, pouring the shots and depositing a bowl of limes and a salt shaker in front of me. I'd already knocked back three of them, sans salt and lime, before Annie caught up with me.
‘Whoa! Lia, do you not remember what happened the last time you did tequila?” she said, wrestling the fourth one off me and helping herself to it.
“I got drunk?” I said, already feeling the alcohol start to punish my system. I could usually hold my liquor, but the combination of pre-drinks and the few doubles I’d already consumed... plus, tequila was my Achilles' heel. Honestly though, right then, I couldn’t give a shit.
“Not quite. You got so shit-faced you nearly ended up face down in some old dude’s garden and then spent three days sleeping off the ‘hangover to end all hangovers’.” Annie tsked, helping herself to another of my shots.
“Yup,” I said, downing number six, “and your point is?” There went number seven. “Unless you haven’t noticed, Annie dearest, that fine specimen of manhood over there trying to make small talk with our friends is none other than Alex Marsh. Sexy, strong, heart-breaking, cheating bastard Alex,” I said. Not that he had admitted to cheating, but I had joined the dots. I downed the last shot without touching the lime or salt once and the taste was vile. I swung my arm wildly behind me, leaning a little too far off my bar stool and landing face first in a firm chest which smelled familiar.
I thanked my lucky stars and looked up through heavy lids, trying to push myself upright so I could thank my rescuer. The first thing I saw were those sparkling blue eyes looking down at me, a faint hint of a smile reaching them. When I figured out who they belonged to, I could have died with embarrassment. Maybe the floor would have been a better option. I had, quite literally, fallen for him. Again. Fuck my life.
FOUR
I woke the next morning with bird’s nest hair and the fuggy feeling you get after a night where you most definitely had too much to drink. Who was I kidding? I’d nearly drunk the bar dry. Eyes locked tightly shut, I fought the fog and tried to remember why my mouth felt like Ghandi’s left flip flop and my legs were trapped by something heavy.
The memories came in pieces, like rough drawings done by a child with a wax crayon. Alex at the bar. Alex coming to talk to me. Tequila by the bucket load. Arguing with Annie about my choice of bed guest for the evening. Taking a taxi home with someone. Hastily shoving the carnage of the outfit search on the floor to make space on my bed.
I risked opening my eyes, praying I had imagined it when I had a flashback of Alex’s lips on mine as I dragged him into my bedroom, tripping over shoes and handbags along the way. The emotions came thick and fast; panic, embarrassment, horror, despair at my own bloody stupidity. I peeked to my left, where I could feel the body heat of another person. I could have died when I saw those gorgeous baby blues staring straight back at me, a smirk on his face. He looked angelic. But he was in my bed, just a month after friend zoning me.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, leaning over and sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. He nibbled at it, before slipping his tongue against my own. I moaned against my will; the guy could kiss, and my brain was still befuddled with alcohol. My common sense was trying to tell me to kick him out of bed, but my body wasn’t fully operational yet, nor were my hormones feeling particularly cooperative.
“Morning,” I replied, pulling back to try and regain some space by rolling onto my back. “Alex, pardon me for being blunt, but what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
“Well, darling, that would be because you invited me last night.” He smirked and my stomach flipped. Oh, shit. Definitely not what I had wanted to hear.
“Did we, er, do anything…” I started, but I couldn’t quite put into words what I prayed hadn’t happened. My brain whirred, trying to make sense of this situation. I did my best not to make a big deal of pulling the sheet higher to cover my naked body.
Easy does it, Lia. Just an inch at a time, at least so your chest is covered.
He sussed out my plan then he laughed, barking out a chuckle that made my nipples harden. “Oh, beautiful. I’ve missed you. No, we didn’t, but only because you passed out as soon as we got home.”
I sighed in relief, thanking my lucky stars the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed last night had at least saved me from jumping his bones. Well, so far, so good, but the temptation was still well within my grasp. Who said alcohol was all bad? Score one for drunkenness. Although, I was still down about twelve hundred for letting him in, and all my past misdemeanours under the influence. On reflection, not so much of a win.
He stretched his hand over my abdomen, the sheet doing nothing to stop the intensity of his touch. I had to think hard about where my clothes were. I didn’t remember removing them, but hell, I didn’t remember asking my cheating ex to share a bed with me either. My memory must have switched itself into factory reset mode that morning. I turned onto my side, stopping briefly to pull the hair from under my shoulders, and was assaulted by his lips, freshly licked, latching on to mine. His tongue teased and probed whilst his hands pulled the sheet away to leave them free to roam over my bare bottom. He pinched and squeezed, pulling me closer. A leg hooked behind mine, his solid quads pinning me against him.
