Chapter 31 Alcohol, My Therapist #2
BJ chuckled. “I think you’re leaving something out, Georgie.”
She sat back, flushing, and dropped her head. “I may have taken a step or two back, and I fell on my ass, and my hair caught on fire.” She glanced back up and then began to chuckle. “One of the guys ran over and stamped it out.”
“And she may have had a bottle of wine and a cone or two, but it was a ghost,” Jodie added with a giggle.
I gripped my lips together and tried not to laugh.
“I’m telling you”—she was suddenly serious again—“it was a damn ghost, and he was evil.” She shivered again and wrapped her arms across her chest.
“Yeah,” BJ said, nodding and giving her an affectionate grin.
“A ghost.” He turned to me and dropped his arm back into his lap.
“The week after we watched Lord of the Rings, someone”—he cocked his head to the side in Georgie’s direction—“had nightmares all week that Smeagol was attacking her in her sleep.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, laughing uncomfortably.
BJ did an impressive Smeagol impersonation.
The laughter burst from the table, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
She slapped me on the arm. “You promised.”
“I’m sorry,” I held up my palms in surrender. “You really need to lay off those M-rated movies, Georgie.”
BJ did another impersonation, and we all lost it again.
After a long moment, the laughter finally died, and I thought about telling them about my mother’s ghost. They would laugh, and I would laugh with them and say it was just a figment of my imagination, like Shadow Man.
They wouldn’t think I was crazy, or that something was wrong with me.
I should tell them; I needed to vent to someone.
“So, what’s it like living with Ethan?” Jodie asked, stirring her drink with a straw. “Does he walk around shirtless, or better still, naked?” A wicked glint appeared in her eyes.
Georgie pursed her lips.
“He’s surprisingly easy to live with,” I answered truthfully. “And no, he doesn’t.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. I might’ve had to visit.”
We drank, we ate, we laughed. They danced like slightly crazy drunk young adults do, and I made Georgie streak.
We all giggled madly as she stripped off and sprinted down the street.
Bum wobbling, boobs bouncing. Yahoos rang out and horns blared from passing cars.
Jodie laughed so hard she doubled over and almost wet herself.
I drank a whole lot more than I should have, and by 11 p.m. we were all smashed.
I sat at the bar, struggling to stay on my stool. But the alcohol had done its job, and I’d forgotten my troubles. The pain in my leg was gone, but my body had somehow lost its ability to sit. Jodie had the giggles, and Georgie was dancing with BJ.
“Would you like to dance?” a guy with dark hair asked. His face was a blur, but I thought he was cute.
“I’d love to dance.” I stood up and staggered forward like someone had pushed me. A large, strong hand grabbed my arm and stopped me from face-planting.
“She would not like to dance,” Karson ordered, his voice a low growl. “Leave.”
The male eyes flared, he didn’t argue; he backpedaled and walked away. Karson released my arm.
I gripped the bar to hold myself steady. “That was mean.”
“Was it?” he drawled.
“Yes, and I’d like to dance.”
“You’re not dancing. You can barely even walk. I think you should sit down before you fall down.”
“You need new stools,” I slurred. “Those ones are faulty—they move when you sit on them.”
Jodie smiled. “I don’t think it’s the stools, Aims.”
“Where’s my dance partner?” I turned, searching for the dark-haired man. The building’s walls seemed to revolve, and they twisted on a side angle, stopped, then swung back again as I stood perfectly still, staring at them. “Oh wow, your walls need some work too. Did you know they move as well?”
Karson sighed, “Okay, Amelia, it’s home time.”
“No. I’m having too much fun.”
“Fun’s over. Bar’s closing.”
“Oh really? I know the boss, so maybe I could talk to him. I can’t sweet-talk him cause he’s not interested in me. But I could ask nicely. Manners go a long way.” I went to move away, and my foot snagged on something on the floor—and staggered, the floor lurched towards my face.
“For the god’s sakes,” he muttered, his hand taking hold of my arm.
“You said gods, which would mean you believe in more than one god?”
He rolled his eyes. “You are going home.”
I shook my head and folded my arms. “No, I’m not.”
He brow arched and his eyes glittered with challenge. “Either you walk out the door or I carry you.”
I lifted my chin. “You wouldn’t da—
I shrieked as he scooped me up in his arms, holding me like I was a bride and we were about to step through the bedroom door. Just like he did when he carried me up the incline. And through the forest.
“Put me down,” I squirmed, even though his grip wasn’t tight, he had me pinned to his chest, so I stopped struggling.
“I warned you. You are lucky I didn’t throw you over my shoulder and haul you out like a sack of potatoes.”
“I see what you’re doing. Practicing for when you marry me, in case you’re not strong enough,” I squeezed his shoulder, “and you need to do some weights.”
He strode toward the door. “For goodness’ sake, how much have you had to drink?”
I twisted my lips in thought. “I can’t remember.”
“Choc-mint, you owe me a nudie run!” Georgie yelled out from behind.
“What about my friends? I can’t just leave them!” I swung my head back in the direction of the dance floor and the blur of shadowy, swaying bodies.
“Shelley is taking them home.” He kicked the door open and we strode into the cool night air.
I snuggled my nose into his neck and sniffed.
“Mmm, you smell good. You have a very nice neck, you know? Has anyone told you that? That little bumpy thing at the front is quite sexy.” I traced my finger over his Adam’s apple. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I might just have a nibble.”
“That’s enough,” he growled.
“That’s enough,” I mimicked, attempting his low voice. “You’re not scary, you know. You don’t scare me, not even a little tiny bit.”
He sighed. “I do not wish to scare you, Amelia. Now stand here.” He lowered me to the ground.
I clung to his neck for a moment to steady my feet, then dropped my arms to my sides.
Karson grasped my arm. My body swayed like a blow-up puppet in the wind.
He didn’t let go as he opened the car door, guiding my wayward limbs inside. I half sat, half fell onto the seat.
In a flash, he was seated in the driver’s seat beside me. The car interior spun.
“Your car’s broken, too, just so you know.”
“Seatbelt on,” he snapped.
I reached across to pull it down, fiddling with the buckle, but the clasp moved before my eyes and I couldn’t locate the waiting slot.
“For fuck sakes.” He leaned over and grabbed the seat belt from my hand, latching it in.
I smiled at him, resting my head back as I turned sideways to stare at his profile. The car took off, my stomach swirled like I was on a ride at the local fair, and I giggled. The background blurred, and my head spun as a sea of buildings and then greenery streamed by my eyes. My stomach roiled.
“You’re very nice looking . . . hard to resist . . . but you know that, don’t you?”
“I think you’re very drunk and you are going to regret this conversation in the morning . . . if you remember it, that is.” His face turned my way, but I couldn’t make out any details.
“I’ll remember. I have an impeccable memory—I remember e-e-everything. Even things people don’t want me to remember . . . I remember them too,” I whispered.
He frowned, his tone cool as he asked, “Really? Amelia, what do you remember exactly?”
A sudden need to vomit landed like a bomb in my stomach.
“Oh . . . you need to stop the car. I’m going to be sick.
” I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to hold the gurgling mess down.
He pulled up. My body jerked forward at the sudden stop.
I reefed the door open and went to move but my body wouldn’t budge.
It was stuck. I couldn’t understand why.
I felt the vomit lurching up my stomach. Mild panic set in. “Karson, I’m stuck!”
“Seatbelt, Amelia,” he snapped as he unclasped it, setting me free. I staggered away from the car. Nausea had me in its clutches. Then it squeezed.
I grabbed at my hair, trying to keep it from my face. Liquid sprayed like a fire hose from my mouth. I stayed hunched over, breathing deeply, the taste of bile burning my throat, until the urge to throw up receded.
“Finished?” Karson sounded amused. He was leaning up against his car with his arms crossed in front of him.
“Maybe, I think so, I’m not sure.” I stumbled back towards the car.
“Here.” He handed me a bottle of water. “Drink.”
I drank, washing the putrid taste away. I stood, not wanting to move, but feeling my body sway like I was on a cruise ship in rough seas, waiting to see if my stomach had settled.
“Okay, I’m good.”
“You sure? I don’t really want to be cleaning out vomit from my car.”
“Sure, I think . . . oh—” I turned back toward the forest and threw up. Karson held my hair back, his other hand wrapped around my arm to stop me from falling. I retched again and again. Finally, I stopped and took a few more sips of water.
“Okay, I’m good now,” I murmured, staggering back to the car and plonking myself back down in the seat. I closed my eyes as I felt him reach across and secure my seatbelt once more.
The next thing I knew, I was being carried inside.
“Someone’s had a big night.” I heard Ethan’s laughter. I felt my body being laid on the bed. The whole room spun and sped up like a record player. My eyes jolted open. Someone was taking my shoes off, and I struggled to sit up.
“Lie still, I got it. You have vomit on your dress,” Karson said.
I closed my weary eyes and mumbled something incoherent.
“You need to take it off . . . Amelia. You need to . . . never mind, I’m taking your dress off, alright?”
“Okay, I love you,” I murmured, then felt the dress being pulled over my head.
I slumped back and drifted off into oblivion.