23. Not the best idea Ive ever had
Chapter 23
Not the best idea I've ever had
Ariana
A s soon as the movie’s over, I turn to Lil. “Let’s go shoot some pool.”
“Okay. I’ll grab snacks.” She winks at me. “You get drinks?”
While Lil loots the pantry, I grab a couple cups with lids and straws from the kitchen and fill them with ice. Then I get a big bottle of soda from the fridge in the garage, dump half of it down the bathroom sink, and fill it back up with vodka.
Lil and I meet in the game room and crank up some music. We’re halfway through the bottle and feeling very good when Luca and Dad show up.
Fuuuuuuccccckkkkk.
Dad’s face breaks out into a big grin. “There’s my girls. Running the table again?”
“Yup. If you want it, you have to play us for it.” I grin back at him. He groans.
Would it be smarter for Lil and I to give up the table and run like hell before Dad realizes we’re drunk? Yes. But that’s not our style .
“Maybe we should play darts instead,” he jokes, but he grabs a cue stick anyway. “You and Lil against me and Luca.” I don’t know how good Luca is, but Dad knows that Lil’s not great. Whatever, I like the challenge of still trying to win.
“Bring it on,” Lil says with bravado that’s fueled by vodka more than anything. It’s definitely not fueled by her skills. Meh, if we lose, we can always go bowling in the basement. Drunk bowling is fucking fun. “Rack ‘em up, Luca.” I grin at Lil bossing him around. He rolls his eyes but sets the balls in the triangle.
Lil breaks, and I stifle a groan. She doesn’t pocket any balls and leaves way too many shots open for them. I pour myself another drink from the bottle, ignoring Luca’s stare. The way his eyes narrow in on my cup means he knows this isn’t just soda.
Dad easily makes his first shot but misses his second. My shot has me bending over not far from where Luca’s sitting. I’m walking a line of being a little sexy without going overboard because my freaking dad is in the room. I don’t want to be obvious about it, but I’ve also been drinking, so…
I miss my third shot. If it wasn’t for the vodka, I probably could have cleared the table right there.
Luca bends over to take a shot, and this time I stifle a moan because, damn, that’s one hell of an ass in those jeans. He makes two shots before missing the third, as well.
Lil scratches. “Shit. Sorry, Ari.”
I shrug. “No worries, Lil.”
We go back and forth a few more times, and I almost beat them even with the alcohol and Lil hindering me. But Luca sinks the eight ball, winning the game. This whole thing is making me think about him sinking balls deep, and once again, I’m feeling that ridiculous confused/horny/pissed combo again, and my panties are wet.
“Ugh, you guys suck.” Lil’s trash talk makes me smile. “Let’s go, Ari. These cheaters can have the pool table. ”
“Cheaters?” Luca raises that damned smug eyebrow and smirks. God, why is he so handsome? And why did I keep drinking after they showed up?
“Fine. Maybe not cheaters. Jerks though. Well, okay, Dad’s not a jerk… Fuck, I don’t know.” She throws her hands up, and I gigglesnort. Damn it.
“Come on, Lil. I have ideas.” We grab our drinks and what snacks are left. Luca’s staring at me again. I love and hate it at the same time.
We make another soda and vodka bottle, silently agreeing to ignore our three-drink rule. We’re spreading it out a little bit, so it’s fine. After grabbing a bag of licorice, we make our way down to the basement, scooting down the stairs on our asses after I almost trip on the second step.
Giggling, we stumble into the bowling alley. It’s a four-lane alley with automatic ball returns and a computer system to keep score. Mom and Dad put it in the year we turned ten. It’s one of my favorite things in the whole house. We each have shoes and multiple color-coded balls, plus extras for guests.
We drink and eat and laugh our asses off, and after like an hour, neither one of us can make it through a frame without falling. My ass hurts from landing on it over and over, but I laugh every damn time. Drunk me is an idiot. I don’t know why I keep letting her out. Drunk me blames Lil. And Luca this week. Fucking Luca… I shouldn’t have thought that because now I’m thinking about fucking Luca… And now he’s texting us again.
That Jerk Luca
Where are you?
Playing with some balls.
Big Balls.
Reeeeaaaallly big balls.
That Jerk Luca
What the fuck?
Super Bossy Bitch
hahahahahaha balls
Shit. Okay, back to business. Leaving my phone on the table, I try to focus.
I’m decent at bowling. Not as good as I am at stuff like darts and billiards and shooting and poker… but still good. Bowling is one thing that Lil’s better at, but we’re both absolute trash at it when we’re drunk. After three or four or ninety-seven games, we give up and sit on the floor, eating licorice, refilling our cups from the second bottle of vodka soda, and giggling about random shit.
The sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs has us freezing as we stare at each other. We both jump when the door opens.
“Shit, I almost pissed myself!” Lil yells at Luca before flopping sideways. “Issa good thing there’s a bathroom down here.” She slurs as she gets up and stumbles barefoot to it.
I grin at Luca, but he scowls back. My lips fall into a pout. Party pooper.
“Oh no, it’s the fun police.” Drunk Ariana’s got jokes, folks! I even point my finger in the air, spin it around, and do an impression of a siren.
Luca storms over to me, his eyes burning into my soul. Fuck, he’s mad. He crouches and snags my drink out of my hand.
“Hey,” I cry out and reach for it. I miss horribly and wobble, barely keep myself upright. He wraps those full lips around the straw, taking a sip and cringing at the taste. Asshole. I’m a great make-drinker. Wait. Drink-maker. Yeah, that’s the thing I am. A great drink-maker.
“Fucking hell, Ariana. This is basically just alcohol. How much of this shit did you drink tonight? ”
Dragging my eyes from his lips, I turn away and shrug.
He grabs my chin forcefully but not painfully, making me look at him. Damn, that’s hot as hell. I don’t know what he sees, but he looks somewhere between sad and pissed. “Way fucking more than you should. Why?”
“Why do you care?” I poke my finger in his chest with every word, making an effort to say each word clearly. God, it’s hard to keep my eyes open.
“Because I fucking care about you, Ari. So damn much.”
My forehead crinkles. “Youuuu never callme that.”
“Do you not want me to call you that?” He gets a cute little wrinkle between his eyes when he’s confused.
My eyelids drift closed, and I drag in a rough breath. “I don’t care what you call me, Luca. I just want you to see me,” I beg.
I hear Lil stumble out of the bathroom. Luca sighs and stands. “Okay, you’re both drunk as shit and in the fucking basement, so I’m dealing with you one at a time. Ari, stay here. Don’t fucking move.” Even with my eyes closed, I can feel him point a finger at me, and I laugh. Maybe I’m psychic! “Do you understand?” He’s using his bossy babysitter voice. Damn it, bossy Luca is so hot.
“Yes, sir.” I mock salute. He mumbles something and leads Lil out the door. It’ll be a few minutes before he comes back for me since our wing is about as far from here as you can get. I kick off my bowling shoes and crawl over to the table to pull myself up. Luca thinks he can tell me what to do, and I’m just going to listen? Fuck that. Fuck that so fucking much. Fuck it with a fucking… I can’t remember where I was going with that. Oh well. Lil’s cup isn’t empty, so I finish it off. I’m drinking the last of the vodka soda straight out of the bottle when Luca grabs it.
“Jesus,” he grumbles. He’s so damn grumbly.
“Here? Where? Are yousure it’s him?” I look around but see no Jesus. Bummer. “I didn’t hearyou come in. Are you taking ninja lessons? ”
I reach for the bottle, but he holds it far, far away with his long, muscle-y arms. “You’re mean,” I pout. “Connard.”
“Call me an asshole in whatever language you want. It doesn’t hurt my feelings one bit.”
I huff and wrack my brain hard. “ Stonzo. Arschloch. Oaschloch. Trou du cul. ”
“Are you done?”
“Oh, va te faire foutre. ”
“Haven’t heard that one yet.”
“Because you haven’t annoyedBecca until she tells you to fuckoff yet.” I sway on my feet a little, and he reaches out to steady me. “You’re so grumpy. Why are you so grumpy, Luca?” I lean against his chest. He’s so warm and smells so good.
He sighs again, then takes me by the elbow. “Come on, princess.”
I freeze and squeeze my eyes shut as my heart starts to race. “Don’t call me that,” I whisper. “Please, Luca. Not that.” There’s no stopping the tears that run down my cheeks, the memories that push down on me, the voice in my head.
‘You think you’re better than us now, Princess?’
“Okay, Ari. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
I shake my head. I want to tell him it’s fine because how would he know not to call me that? It’s not his fault. I literally just told him he could call me anything a few minutes ago.
But I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking.
I can hear or read the word and be fine. In sophomore year, some douche at school called me princess, and I beat the shit out of him, but it didn’t send me into a panic attack.
But now? I panic.
My legs give out. My throat closes. I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
Luca’s holding my face in his hands and almost screaming my name. He’s probably yelled it a bunch of times. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I crack my eyes open and look into his.
There’s fear in those deep blue pools. So much fear. They’re glossy with unshed tears, and wet streaks cover his cheeks. “Breathe, baby. Fuck. Come on, breathe. Please, Ariana,” he begs. And somehow, I’m finally able to gasp air in. I take a few shallow breaths. Then, a few more.
“That’s it. That’s my girl,” he rasps. He pulls me onto his lap and holds me against his chest, whispering praise and rubbing a hand up and down my back as I keep dragging air into my lungs. It feels like forever before I get my breathing mostly under control. But by then, my head is spinning, and I vomit on his shirt.
“I’m sorry, Luca,” I whimper.
“Shhhh. It’s okay, baby.”
He stands and carries me to the bathroom, then holds my hair while I proceed to empty my stomach into the toilet. When I think I’m done, Luca dabs my face and neck with a wet hand towel. Then he kisses my forehead. He tosses his shirt into the garbage, and I rinse my mouth out with water. “You okay to go upstairs?” he asks quietly.
I can’t look him in the eye. “Yeah.” I threw up a lot, but I’m still too shaky to walk like a normal human being. Before I say anything, though, he hooks an arm under my knees and wraps the other around my back, pulling me close to him. I loop my arms around his neck and put my head on his shoulder. “You smelled really good before I threw up on you,” I tell him as he carries me out of the basement.
He chuckles. Actually chuckles. “You smelled like vodka before you threw up on me.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
Once we’re upstairs, he tucks me into bed, making sure my shoulders are covered like I need them to be again. He kneels next to me and brushes my hair out of my eyes. “I see you, Ariana.” His voice is low. Gravely. Honest.
“I see you, too, Luca.” His hand gently takes hold of mine under the blanket as I drift off to sleep.