Chapter 49 #2
“I came with Rashad,” she replied as if I would know who that was, the rise and fall of her speech hinting that she was still very intoxicated. “But I…but I want to go home.”
“And he won’t take you home?” I questioned.
“Paid too much…too much money to be here.”
I had to check myself. With eyes closed, I drew in a calming inhale, willing my temper to not take hold right now. I was angry, but I had Lauren to look out for.
This nigga—Rashad, or whatever the fuck—brought Lauren, of all people, to a nightclub.
He either let her drink eight shots of straight Hennessy, or left her by herself to drink alone.
And now that her ass was drunk, asking to go home, he let her wander about the club until she ultimately—and luckily—showed up at my office door.
All on her goddamn birthday.
So many things could have happened to her.
I was livid, but I had Lauren to look out for.
With my free hand, I dug into my back pocket and pulled out my phone, bypassing the list of missed calls and probing texts messages I’d yet to respond to.
After my meeting with Javier Perez, I was supposed to have gone downstairs into the VIP section with Eden because I told her I would, but when Lauren showed up at my door, those plans were put on the backburner.
The half dozen texts from Eden on my phone were no doubt questioning my whereabouts.
Pulling up the dial pad, I quickly put in a number and pressed the phone to my ear.
Marlon answered on the second ring. The sound around him was quiet which let me know he’d skipped out on Eden’s afterparty.
“What’s up?”
“I need you to come to Seven,” I got straight to it, explaining, “It’s Lauren.”
Pause. Silence. Realization. “Wait, really?”
He didn’t sound like he believed me all the way.
“I’d take her home myself, but…” I thought about the things Lauren had revealed to me just a few moments ago. Her association with me wasn’t helping anyone, especially her. “…it’s complicated. Could you just do me this favor?”
“Uh…” My friend hesitated, something in his pause indicating he had more than just the one question he’d asked. Instead, Marlon let it go, ultimately conceding, “…yeah, I’ll be there in a few.”
“Who was that?” she asked against my neck as soon as the line went dead. Lauren’s tone was croaky, like that of a woman’s who just finished crying. There was a tinge of exhaustion in her voice as well.
“Do you remember Marlon?” I asked, my hand coming up behind her, rubbing soothing circles along the back of her dress.
I could feel her nod, her head nuzzling into my neck.
I wondered if the intimacy of the moment was due to her being drunk, or if this kind of stuff just came naturally for us. “He’s gonna take you home.”
The better part of my logic knew that this was only happening because she was drunk. After all, Lauren was a woman who believed I betrayed her in the worst possible way. As great as it felt to hold her in my arms, none of this was real, none of this would pan out if she was sober.
Is this right? Am I taking advantage right now?
“You feelin’ better?” I checked to see if she was still crying. She didn’t respond. Perhaps because the answer was clear. No. She wasn’t feeling better. “You want my opinion?”
“No,” she muttered against me, which actually made me laugh a little. Too drunk to act on the fact that she wanted nothing to do with me, but not drunk enough to forget to remind me that we weren’t friends. To make sure there were no misunderstandings, she added, “I don’t care… what you think.”
I nodded, taking the blow in stride.
“That’s fine, but you should keep that same energy with the people that got you so in your feelings right now,” I suggested.
Lauren pulled away from me, her eyes drawing up to mine with cautious curiosity.
I stared back, raising a hand to her tear-streaked cheeks, wiping away the moisture from them.
She didn’t cringe away from my touch, an observation that relieved something deep down within me.
In that moment, it felt like we were closed off from our surroundings.
Lauren’s eyes searched for something in mine, her gaze analytical.
I wondered if she could see anything in them, growing increasingly aware of how close her lips were to mine.
Cutting into the moment’s silence, my phone began to vibrate.
Eye contact broke.
And the world around us seemed to come back.
“Can you stand?” I asked her, pulling up my cell to reply to Marlon’s arrival text.
He was downstairs and parked outside. Lauren hesitated a little before she replied, ultimately nodding an unconvincing yes.
“That’s alright. Hook your arms around my neck,” I instructed, tucking an arm under her knees.
Arms around my neck clasped tight, her head pressed into my chest as I rose us both from the couch.
Wanting to forgo the spectacle of walking through the main club, holding Lauren in my arms, I ambled over to an alternative exit from my second floor office.
The second exit was a private stairwell that opened out to an alleyway between the club and another building.
Each step I took down that staircase felt like a reluctant goodbye. Lauren and I would part ways, she would eventually sober up, and life would go on.
Without her.
“Kain,” she whispered my name during the descent, her voice gut wrenchingly soft.
It was the first time I’d heard her say it in sixteen months.
Fuck, I even miss the way she used to say my name.
Lauren seemed to press the side of her face harder against my chest. “Kain, your heart’s beating so fast.”
“You’re heavy,” I lied.
I couldn’t let her know that this uneventful ass half-hour was the highlight of my year so far.
I wasn’t the kind of nigga who was gonna tell my ex-girlfriend that I didn’t want her to go because I missed her.
I wouldn’t even tell her that I missed her.
I could be a lot of things for Lauren, but pathetic wasn’t one of them.
The cool rush of December air nipped at her exposed skin as soon as we were outside. I could feel her shivering against me, and I felt regretful that I didn’t have something with sleeves to give her.
Outside of the club, a crowd of photographers were huddled together, trying to keep warm as they waited for the afterparty to close out so they could get snapshots of the famous guests in attendance as they left.
As soon as I was spotted by one, they all began to crowd around like feeding ducks at a park. Their questions and camera flashes were nothing new, so it was easy for me to tune them out. Lauren brought her hands to her eyes, shielding them from the bright flashing.
Marlon’s car was parked out front as he said it would be, and once Lauren and I were in view, noting my full hands, he stepped out of his car to open the back door. After the whole fiasco with the Eden dating rumors, I considered my requests of him now as a form of getting even.
“Cover me.”
Marlon stood behind me as I buckled Lauren into the backseat of his car, making sure the gathering crowd of photographers wouldn’t be able to get a good shot. Once Lauren was buckled in, I found myself lingering, looking over her as if I wanted to save a mental image of her for my memories.
She was so damn perfect. Had she always been this perfect?
Did I appreciate it enough when she was mine?
Her sleepy brown eyes watched me curiously, unblinking as her brows came together with an unspoken question.
I couldn’t read minds, but I knew what she was thinking.
Because I was thinking the same thing: So this is goodbye?
Lauren didn’t say anything when my hand came up to brush the stray curls at her forehead away. She didn’t cringe under the unexpectedness of my touch. In fact, she leaned into it. Tucking the loose strands behind her ear, I pulled her in gently, pressing a kiss onto her forehead.
“Happy birthday, baby.”