Chapter 2 #2
Now, though, I wanted to be there. I needed to watch them go down, and I wanted to see her again. It would only be on a screen, but it would still be better than looking at old photos. I would get to hear her voice.
“Hey,” Chelsea said, letting herself into my room.
I startled and placed my hand over my thudding heart.
“Cole, it’s almost eight!” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
Moping around in your own self-pity really passed the time.
I smiled apologetically and sat up. “Sorry, lost track of time. You look nice.”
She wore an extremely low-cut, tight black dress. It looked painted on. I wasn’t used to seeing quite that much of her, but I wasn’t exactly complaining. She was beautiful. Oakley would never wear anything like that, not that it was at all bad, it just wasn’t her style.
Stop thinking about her.
Chelsea laughed and playfully slapped my shoulder, running her hand down my arm, her pink tipped nails raking over my skin. I waited for the need to have her hands on me more, and to want to touch her, but those things never came. I wished they would.
“Thanks. You look the same as earlier,” she said and arched a dark brow.
“Yeah, I should get changed.” I got up and grabbed a pair of jeans and a black shirt.
She sat down on my bed with no offer of privacy. I watched her looking around my room, her eyes lingering over the photo of me and Oakley in Italy—a selfie we’d taken on her balcony.
“Back in two,” I told her before going into the bathroom.
I wasn’t sure how much Chelsea knew about Oakley as she’d never asked me for any details.
She knew Oakley’s past, though—it was hard to find anyone around here who didn’t—the tragic story of the little girl whose dad allowed a sick man to sexually abuse her.
Only it wasn’t just a story, it was very real, and so far there had been no happy ending.
I changed and styled my hair. Staring into the mirror, I tried a bit of a pep talk. Have fun. Move on. You deserve to find someone… else. Thing was, so much reminded me of her. Our eyes were a similar blue. She was everywhere still, my personal ghost, there to haunt me.
Sighing, I sprayed aftershave and looked away, no longer wanting to see her staring back, and left the bathroom.
“Let’s go,” I said, poking my head around the door. Chelsea glanced up, her eyes roaming over my chest and legs. I didn’t exactly hate being wanted by a gorgeous woman, but I couldn’t help feeling like I should.
“You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight,” she said, getting off my bed.
“Always do.”
Pursing her lips, she made an expression that told me she thought I was full of shit. “I wish you would.”
I put my hand on her back as we walked downstairs. “Promise I will.”
Her toothy smile over her shoulder made me laugh. “You can’t break a promise. I’m getting you drunk.”
Sounded fine with me.
Kerry was sitting in the back of the car when we reached the drive, Ben driving. It was as if she had known I’d want to escape any awkward scenario with Chelsea because she rarely let me have the front seat.
Not that being close to Chelsea was always awkward, we’d just been alone in my room, but I definitely felt pressure when I was around her, like she was waiting for me to make a move.
“Ready to get smashed?” Kerry asked when I shut the door.
“Beyond ready,” I replied. I wanted to get so off my face, I wouldn’t even remember Oakley’s name.
Not enough fucking alcohol in the world would do that.
“If anyone pukes in my car, you’re paying for it to be cleaned,” Ben told us. “Actually, you puke, you buy me a new car.”
“Can you say dramatic?” Chelsea joked from the backseat, making Kerry laugh.
It wasn’t often that Ben was accused of being the dramatic one.
His ancient Land Rover got us to the carpark in one piece… but then it took five minutes of circling before he found a spot that it fit in. I watched as we passed the same cars over and over.
He reversed into the space, and I looked out of my window. “I guess Kerry and I are climbing across the other side.”
“Hey, that dickhead is too close to the line!” Ben said, defending his parking.
“Sure, sure.”
He shot me a look that could kill as I’d challenged his parking skills and got out. I shuffled over the and got out of his side, not wanting to risk his paintwork.
It was still relatively early so there wasn’t a long queue to get inside. Good thing really because Kerry hated the cold and the temperature had dropped drastically.
In the club, I pushed through the crowd toward the bar, my feet sticking to something spilled on the floor. The air was stuffy despite the intermittent gusts coming from air conditioning units above us. Strobe lighting flashed in my face and music so loud it vibrated my bones made my ears bleed.
I wasn’t usually this much of a grumpy bastard. I’d enjoyed every other night out with them.
This was all on me.
No, it was all on her. I blamed Oakley for every shit day I’d had since she left… and there had been many.
The anger and the longing and the fucking heartache made every single part of my life a struggle.
I hated it. And I loved her.
Ben pushed Kerry up against the bar and kissed her, leaving it to me to order. The arsehole hated getting the first round in.
Chelsea leant against the bar beside me, shooting me another flirtatious look. I smiled back, again wishing I was into her. But then nothing had happened between us yet, not even a kiss.
Maybe I needed that to see where my head was at. I was attracted to Chelsea, and from some of the looks she was getting in here, I wasn’t the only one.
Maybe she could kick my Oakley habit.
I handed her a gin and tonic, my fingers brushing over hers.
“Thanks,” she said, moving a fraction closer.
The strobe lighting bounced off her smile. I dropped my gaze to her lips. Did I want to go there?
Whatever, I was going to get shitfaced and see where the night led. See if anything changed.
“To the best fucking night of our lives,” Ben said, holding a shot and a beer in each hand.
“I’ll drink to that,” I replied before downing my shot and taking a swig of my whiskey.
Chelsea raised her brows. “You’re on it tonight.”
I made myself move closer and whispered in her ear, “I thought that was the plan.”
“I think it’s a very good plan,” she said, pushing her chest against mine.
I took another swig, a much bigger one, and revelled in the burn as the whiskey, straight, slid down my throat.
I was going to need a few more of those.
So that was exactly what I did.
Seven whiskeys later, and five shots of whatever Kerry randomly chose at the time of ordering later, I was wasted. I’d barely moved an inch, just slumped in my seat like a loser, getting more and more drunk.
The women were more appealing to me, and I wasn’t a mess, waiting for someone who had fucked off and was staying fucked off.
“Cole,” Chelsea slurred, gripping my arm to hold herself up. “Come dance with me?”
I shook my head, not even able to think straight, let alone move. “No. I like the bar.” I slumped against the polished wooden counter and raised my hand for the bartender. “Double whiskey, please. Want anything, Chels?”
Her eyes narrowed. “No, thanks. This is… I’m going to the bathroom.”
All right. I watched her over my shoulder as she stormed off, her fists clenched tight. What the hell was that about?
“Your eyes are all out of focus, pisshead,” Ben said, sitting down on the stool next to me.
I waved my hand in his direction. Or I thought it was anyway, my vision was rather blurry. “They’re fine, they’re still in my head.”
Shit, I hadn’t been this drunk in a long time.
The bartender slid the drinks my way. “Don’t let him puke,” he told Ben.
“Drinking your problems away.” Ben shook his head. “That ain’t going to work, man.”
“You were right, you know? I am pathetic.”
“I’m always right. You either need to get over her or go get her.”
“I can’t do the first one ’cause I love her,” I said, waving my finger at him to try and make him understand, pretty sure I was slurring. “I’m going to America.”
“Australia,” he corrected.
Laughing, I shook my head. The room spun, and a sharp pain spliced through my skull, making my stomach roll with the threat of vomit.
I was going to hurt tomorrow.
“She’s in Australia.” I frowned. “That’s not funny, actually. You know why?” I waited for his reply.
He rolled his dark eyes and gestured with his hand for me to continue.
“Because I love her, and you know what you do when you love someone? You follow them to Australia. I’m right, right?”
“Yes, Cole, you’re right.”
“I knew it!” I said, slamming my fist down on the bar. “All right, let’s go.”
“Whoa.” Ben grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “You need to sober up first. I’m taking you home to bed.”
I swayed and gripped the bar.
“No more alcohol for you. We need to get the girls, then take you home,” he said.
“I tried to flirt with Chelsea. Didn’t work.”
“I know.” He sighed. “It’s going to be okay, mate.”
Kerry and Chelsea came out of the bathroom together. I never understood what they did in there that required backup. This time I suspected it was to talk about me. I’d pissed Chelsea off, and I didn’t want to lead her on.
“We’re leaving!” Ben shouted over the music.
Chelsea glared and growled through gritted teeth, “Fine. I was getting bored of this place, anyway.”
That was for my benefit. Shit, I’d have to apologise to her when I’d sobered up… if I remembered.
Ben bundled me into his car, this time the spot beside him was empty. I wasn’t sure I’d get across the car like before. My body felt like it’d been weighed down and I was sinking.
I sat as still as a statue to limit any movement since it made me want to hurl. I could already tell that I’d feel like shit tomorrow. The alcohol hadn’t even done what it was supposed to do.
In fact, I was worse than before we went out.
Screw you, Oakley.
Ben took a turn a bit too quickly, and I groaned, pressing my forehead to the cold window. Kill me now.
“Don’t puke!” Ben warned.
I groaned a response, a mumbled promise that I wouldn’t. A promise I was unsure I could keep.
We pulled up outside my house, and I managed to lift my head to see that the lights were still on. Great.
“Come on, Cole,” Ben said, lifting me out of the car and helping me to walk. The world tilted, and I groaned. “I’m calling you at six in the morning to see how that head is.”
He was enjoying this, the bastard.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to Australia,” I said, leaning against the wall while he unlocked the front door for me.
Why did I suddenly feel more drunk than I’d been when we left? I didn’t even get to enjoy my last drinks, either.
“Cole?” Dad said once Ben got me inside.
“He’s wasted. Enjoy.”
“Thanks, Ben,” Dad said and sighed.
I lifted my head to see Mum and Mia gaping at me like I was a freak show.
“I’m not going right now; don’t worry. I need to sleep first,” I mumbled, staggering towards the stairs. I shot my hand out, bracing myself against the wall as my legs took me sideways.
“Going where?” Mum asked. “You shouldn’t let yourself get in this state.”
“I’m going to Australia. I need her.”
Dad hooked my arm around his shoulders. “I’ll get him upstairs.”
The hallway stretched out, longer than ever, as Dad helped me towards my room.
Collapsing on my bed, I squeezed my eyes shut, effectively stopping the room from spinning. I felt something dip on the bed, and I groaned, not wanting the third degree.
“Good night?” Mia asked.
I cracked my eyes open. Dad had gone but my sister was standing by my bed.
“Australia’s really far away, isn’t it?”
My eyelids were too heavy and drifted shut again.
I felt her hand on my arm, then she sighed. “Yeah, Cole, it’s far away. I hate to see you like this.”
“She left me. She wouldn’t let me go with her. It hurts,” I whispered, and I felt the cut of each word.
“I know, and I’m so sorry. You need to get some sleep. Things will be clearer in the morning.”
I heard her close my door, but I was already being pulled under, my mind stuck on the blonde who’d wrecked me worse than alcohol ever could.