EIGHT #4
Tanner rolled his eyes. “Stop stressing, bro. Everything’s fine. They’re high school kids, what's the worst that can happen?” This came with a pat on the back.
West raised an ‘are you kidding me’ eyebrow at that one, but I remained silent.
“Look, if anything kicks off, I’ll personally ask people to leave.” That then earned Tanner a worried glare, but he just shrugged. “What? I’ll be polite.”
Yeah, we both knew what Tanner’s version of polite looked like.
“Can’t I stay with Jessa?” Amelie asked, her shoulder bumping against me, and I’d had enough.
“No,” I stated firmly, and she pouted. “Thanks, guys. I'll message you later.” As I was about to fist bump them in turn, Amelie swung herself in front of me and curled her fingers into my tee.
“I promise I didn’t tell anyone we are living together. Your dirty secret is safe,” she confessed, her eyes wide, looking worried. “I have my toe in the line as you told me to.” Over her shoulder, I saw Weston and Tanner exchange a confused look.
Kill me, kill me now.
“Fuck this shit,” bending my body, I swept Amelie off her feet bridal style, her arms instantly going around my neck with a squeak!
“I’ll come by in the morning and help with clean-up duty before Rafe gets back,” I explained over the top of her head. I could feel Amelie's eyes peeping up at me curiously before she turned her head and addressed the others.
“He hates me, you know,” she told them both, shifting in my arms so her tits grazed my chest. I could feel her fingers curling into my tee, clinging on.
“Don’t worry, little flower, Kieran hates everyone,” Tanner replied with a grin.
Weston shoved his hands into his pockets, looking stressed, but I knew that was more about Halo than me leaving.
“Jessa’s had enough booze, OK?”
“Roger that,” Tanner replied. At that moment, I couldn’t make sense of the thought of him and my sister together. Jessa fucking one of my best friends, was a whole other level of weird.
“Goodnight, kill joy,” Jessa called out with a sarcastic wave. I put the image of the two of them out of my mind. First things first.
Amelie started singing a nursery rhyme that Maisy liked, her chin nuzzling against my chest as I walked through the kitchen. I kept my arms clamped beneath my little drunk's legs and back, holding her in place.
Fuck she felt good in my arms. She was so light, almost doll-like. One I so wanted to play with. When she was sober, of course, I didn’t hit on inebriated chicks. I wasn’t that guy. Again, I needed my head to speak to my body.
Off limits, remember!
Amelie took a deep breath and then lifted her head, gazing up at me. “So pretty,” she said softly. The noise from the music in the garden drained away with each step.
“Who?” I asked with a frown.
She was now looking up at me adoringly again. “You. You’re pretty, pretty boy.”
Pretty? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that either.
“Why do you always look like you're so pissed off with the world?” she added, her voice clearer.
I glanced down my nose at her, “Because I am.”
“Why do I feel like I’m floating?” Fucking random or what?
“Because I’m carrying your drunken ass. We’re going home.”
“Home?”
“Well, my house,” I added quickly. I’d already told her she wasn’t to see the Rook residence as her home. I needed to stick to my guns.
I managed to manoeuvre us both through the house and then out of the front door.
It was a mess out there, with people passed out on the lawn, others drinking and chatting and what appeared to be a strip poker game taking place in the middle of the fucking driveway.
The calibre of guests that night wasn’t exactly top tier, but strip poker? How dated was that?
And to top the night off, someone had puked down the side of my fucking car. Classy.
After safely strapping Amelie into the front seat, I chucked my bag in the back and climbed in. Thoughts of her heaving on my cream leather seats lurked in my mind, but she fell asleep as soon as I pulled down the driveway.
I took the journey home at a steady pace, glancing briefly at my passenger as her head lolled from side to side as the vehicle moved. Amelie’s dress had ridden up, and as I stopped at the lights, I pulled the hem down to cover her skin. I could be a gentleman if I wanted to be.
Thankfully, Vanessa and Cameron were in bed when I steered the car through the gates to our estate. All the lights were out apart from the one in the hallway, which was always left on when we were due back late.
Carefully, extracting Amelie from the car, I nudged the door closed with my elbow and started towards the house. It was much cooler, and I turned my body against the slight breeze to protect the girl in my arms.
It wasn’t difficult to carry her upstairs; she was as light as a feather. I just hoped she didn’t suddenly wake up disoriented and scream her head off.
Shouldering the door to her room open, I went inside. The light from the landing highlighted her bed.
I was deciding whether to wake her up or just lay her on the mattress, but Amelie made my decision for me when her eyes opened, and she shifted in my arms.
“Are we home?” she said, peering up at me with sleepy eyes. I didn’t have it in me to correct her.
“Yes, we’re home.”
“You can put me down now,” Amelie muttered with a smile which snapped me to attention.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Here you go.”
I lowered her feet onto the carpet, and she straightened her dress and slid off her shoes, her face flushed as she muttered that she needed to pee.
Whilst she was in the bathroom, I skulked around her room, waiting for her to return. I couldn’t chance her going walkabout in the dark again.
When she did, Amelie had washed her face and was clutching a pair of PJs, looking awkward.
“You should get changed and get to bed, sleep it off,” I suggested, glancing down at her bare legs.
Padding towards me, she nodded. “Sorry to have been so much trouble, but I’ve never had alcohol before,” she admitted. I’d imagined as much.
“It’s fine. Do you feel OK?”
“A little fuzzy, but my head feels better than at the party. You have some great friends.”
I frowned, rocking back on my feet with my hands in my pockets. “They’re not all my friends, Amelie.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.”
And then she started to undress: right in front of me with a totally innocent, carefree expression on her face. She even hummed a tune as I just stood there and gawked. I was frozen to the spot as Amelie drew the dress up over her head, revealing her body in white cotton underwear.
Fucking hell!
I swiftly turned my back; it seemed like the right thing to do, even though she didn’t show a hint of embarrassment or any sexual awareness. It was almost like she didn’t get that what she was doing wasn’t normal behaviour.
I swallowed, feeling out of my comfort zone as I listened to her shuffle around behind me.
“Are you done?” I questioned a little too harshly over my shoulder.
“Oh, yes. I have my PJs on now.”
Once she confirmed she was decent, I swung back around and ordered her to get into bed.
Amelie rolled her eyes and muttered about how bossy I was, but she did as I said.
I felt a flare of annoyance that she had exposed her body to me, just like that.
We were grown-ups, and that wasn’t the etiquette between members of the opposite sex who were also strangers.
Thankfully, her nightclothes almost buried her body. They were pale blue and probably belonged to Jessa. Amelie looked incredibly young and vulnerable and fucking lethal.
“I usually sleep better on the floor,” she sighed. Again, what the fuck?
“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Amelie. In bed, now.”
Whilst she was settling on the mattress, I moved to the bedside lamp and switched it on before turning off the main bedroom light.
“Goodnight,” I said from the doorway. Amelie eyed me across the room, her expression suggesting she had sobered up after her thirty-minute nap in my car.
“Kieran, can I ask you something?”
“What?” I said, moving back towards the bed as she sat, propped up against the headboard.
It was then that I noticed the floor at the other side of her bed.
There was a duvet there and a pillow, so she had been sleeping there.
Odd. I wondered if Maisy had asked to share the room one night.
Maybe hiding out from Sprout, and they’d had a carpet party.
Shaking away my confusion, I levelled Amelie a look as I waited for her to reply. Her nose was turned up as she looked into my eyes. “Why do you fight with your father so much?”
Running my gaze across her inquisitive features, I admitted defeat, sinking into the chair beside her, the legs creaking in the quiet room. “It’s complicated,” I replied, an excuse I used to avoid talking about it regularly.
She huffed. “Relationships generally are, but he seems like a good man.”
My lip curled in disbelief. “And you’re basing your judgement on only weeks of knowing him?” I didn’t mean for it to sound sharp, but Amelie winced slightly.
“Yes,” she muttered, her voice dropping so low I had to lean in to hear. “Believe me, I know what a bad one looks like.”