Chapter 15 Hollis
Hollis
“Another round please, my good, sir,” I order from the man behind the bar, channeling my inner Victorian socialite. He nods, and gets to work on another round of lemon drop shots for me and my best friends.
“You really sure you want another one?” Fletcher asks, but instead of actually sounding worried, he’s got a wide, amused grin on his face, which I don’t imagine will be sticking around for much longer.
“Yep,” I say, tapping my finger on his nose. “Very sure.”
If I was thinking clearly—which obviously I’m not—I'd probably start slowing down. The pleasant little buzz I’d started with has since upgraded to full-on drunkenness. I’m still standing though, so there’s that.
The problem is, Fletch has made it practically impossible to embarrass him. So, tonight, revenge is best served in shots. Not only are we going to make his wallet hurt, we’ve put him in charge of babysitting us increasingly charming women.
“I’m thinking this might actually be my last shot of the night,” Logan admits from beside me.
“Same,” Candice chimes in, holding up a finger from the other side of Logan. “I haven’t drunk this much in, well… I don’t even know. Probably not since our college days.”
“Lightweights,” I tease, even if I should likely be following in their footsteps.
This buzz isn’t just loosening my limbs, but my inhibitions as well.
Whenever I look in Fletcher’s direction, my brain practically writes its own super-smutty fanfic in real time.
Not only do I want to apologize for constantly being so hard on him, but an even bigger part wants to have a repeat of the other night as I push him up against this bar and kiss him in front of everyone here.
“Here you go,” the bartender says, pulling me away from yet another dangerous daydream as he places our shots onto the wooden bartop.
We dutifully reach for our last shots of the night.
“To Fletch!” I declare, holding my tiny glass towards my friends as they clink their glasses into mine.
“To Fletch!” They echo before we throw them back.
I don’t even make a face or flinch this time. My taste buds have long since surrendered to the tart, lemony burn. There’s no way I don’t look like a total badass right now.
“To me, huh?” He leans in, eyebrow cocked.
“Yep,” I say with an overly-tipsy grin. I no longer fight the impulse as I reach up and ruffle his perfectly styled, post-shower hair. “If you hadn’t messed up so badly, we wouldn’t be out having this much fun.”
Perhaps we would’ve still found our way to the bar tonight.
Maybe even had a drink or two to celebrate another sold-out game, but it certainly wouldn’t be to this degree.
I’m not even sure what number I’m on, though that’s likely for the best. I suck at math on a good day, so tonight we’re keeping track in good vibes only.
He runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back into place. “I think you’d be fun no matter what. I enjoy getting to know both sober and drunken Hollis.”
“Awww,” Logan chimes in with a girlish squeal. “He does have it bad.”
He doesn’t fight the accusation. Instead, he welcomes it with a shrug. “You’re not wrong,” he says, glancing toward Logan. “Now if only we could get Hollis to feel the same way about me.”
“Who says I don’t?” I ask, the alcohol in my system somehow turning into truth juice.
“You?” He scoffs, the corner of his lips lifting even higher. “Being just as down bad for me as I am for you? Since when?”
I mime zipping my lips shut before tossing the imaginary key over my shoulder. No clue if that made any sense, but I’m committed to the bit and choose not to overthink it.
He chuckles. “It was the kiss that won you over, wasn’t it? I have been told these lips know how to work some magic.”
And then he winks, because of course he does. Which I would really appreciate if he stopped. I’m already struggling as it is not to think about those magical lips of his and where exactly he could make that so-called magic happen.
“You know, it could be that,” Candice admits with a few bobs of her head. “She did say you had some surprisingly soft lips and that you clearly knew what you were doing—”
Fletcher laughs as I reach around Logan and give Candice a light shove.
“Hey now. That was girl talk. You know the rules.”
"Oh, right,” she agrees, sitting up straighter before pretending to zip her lips closed as well.
“Yeah. I mean come on,” Logan scoffs with a devious smirk, her voice laced in sarcasm. “She never said anything about it being one of the hottest kisses she’s ever had.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, because, well, what else can I do? They aren’t lying, and the look he’s giving me shows he knows it, too.
“It’s good to know the feelings that night were mutual,” he simply states.
I hate how my body reacts to hearing that.
Like seriously, stop being a fucking traitor.
Sure, I assumed he enjoyed the kiss. The man pretty much made it a second job to follow me around and flirt, but still, hearing it said aloud just hits different.
Now if only these raging hormones of mine had an off-switch.
“So, about that Uber you were supposed to provide,” Logan cuts in. “I’m thinking it’s time I call it a night. Fletcher’s lines are working a little too well, and if I don’t get out of here soon I might find myself making some questionable decisions as I go off in search of a man of my own.”
“Same. Minus the whole man thing,” Candice says, her nose wrinkling. “I don’t think Kenny would appreciate that very much. Unless it’s Tom Holland. He is my hall pass, after all.”
My head falls backward as I let out a dramatic whine. “You guys! You’re really both done for the night?”
They both look back and forth with sheepish grins. “Sorry. Maybe we really are lightweights,” Candice apologizes.
I wave them off with a sigh. “It’s fine. I should probably be heading home too.”
Even with my friends pushing me toward Fletch, they’ve still been my very own human airbags.
They’re practically the only thing keeping me safe from full-on disaster by making some questionable, yet very tempting, decisions.
It’s just not worth the risk—especially not when he’s looking as good as he is right now.
Hell, with one more lemon drop in my system I’d possibly consider starting a new religion in his honor.
“Actually, instead of the Uber, I’d prefer to drive you all home myself,” Fletcher says, flagging down the bartender to close out our tab.
“You don’t have to do that,” I quickly assure him.
Doesn’t he understand that I’m now trying to get rid of him?
“I know, but I haven’t had anything to drink tonight, and with me having gotten all the drinks, it just feels like it’s my responsibility to get you all home safe, especially when I’m not so sure I trust any of your abilities to stand up straight for more than a minute or two.”
“Fletch,” I say, doing my best to look stern, but given the way he’s looking at me, it doesn’t appear to be all that effective.
“Hate to break it to you,” he says, once again leaning in close, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
“But this isn’t up for debate. I said I would take care of you and your friends tonight and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
The only way I can be sure you all get home safely is if I’m the one driving.
So buckle up, sweetheart—you’re stuck with me. ”
“Damn,” Candice breathes, fanning herself. “That was kind of hot.”
“Hell yeah it was,” Logan agrees. "Sorry, Holls, but if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
I know she’s kidding, but that doesn’t stop the green-eyed monster from appearing as I shoot her a look.
“Nope, sorry ladies. He’s mine,” I declare without consulting my brain first.
“I am, huh?” Fletcher asks, sounding more than amused.
“Not like that you silly goose.” I wave him off as I hop off my stool with all the grace of a newborn deer.
Apparently gravity and I are no longer friends, but luckily Fletcher’s hand is there, steadying me before I can nosedive straight into the floor.
“But, if I were to ever be interested, which clearly I’m not—”
“Clearly,” he agrees in mock seriousness, his lip twitching.
“But,” I begin again, pointing a less-than-coordinated finger into his chest. “Just like you called dibs on me, I called dibs on you.”
Logan snorts. “When?” she asks, also attempting to hop off her own stool.
“Right now.”
Not that it’s up for debate. My friends know where I stand with Fletcher, and while Logan, and even Candice, can’t help themselves when they not-so-helpfully chime in, they’d never actually do anything to hurt me or get in the way.
“For the record I’m more than okay with that,” Fletch says, moving to also help Candice and Logan so we can all safely head out.
“Don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is already big enough. We don’t need to deal with... you, know, another big thing,” I drunkenly ramble.
“Well, that’s not true,” Logan chimes in, grinning like the devil she is. “I can think of one other thing about Fletcher that Hollis probably wouldn’t mind being big.”
My eyes go wide, as my cheeks turn into such a bright shade of red that I practically resemble a flaming hot Cheeto.
“Logan!” I scold.
She giggles, giving me a light and playful shove as we both go stumbling.
Thankfully, Fletcher is there to steady us.
“You know, cowboy,” I say, glancing toward Fletcher whose arm is safely supporting me. “I’m officially ready to leave now, so if you could get us home as quickly as you can, that’d be greeeeeat,” I say, sounding a bit too much like Tony the Tiger in the process.
“Cowboy?” he asks, somehow latching onto that out of everything I just said.
“You know,” I say, waving my hand in the air as though that somehow clarifies it. “Because of the whole dance number during the game. The hat, and the whole yee-haw thing,” I continue as I mime riding a horse with a lasso in hand. “But fine, if that’s not your thing I won’t call you that anymore.”
“No, you’re free to keep calling me whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping low. “As long as it’s coming out of that dangerously smart mouth of yours, I’m a happy man.”
My eyes soften as my friends ooh and ahh behind me.
“No more of that,” I warn, though my tone is anything but threatening. “Chauffeurs are not supposed to be flirting with their passengers like that.”
This time, it’s him who plays along as he mimics zipping his lips before throwing away some imaginary key.
God, why is even that adorable when he does it?
I’m starting to think it’s time I sober up—and soon. I’ve already made plenty of bad decisions tonight, and I really don’t need to be making anymore.