8. No. 9 Let loose and get a little drunk #2
“This is the guy who didn’t want to take a week off for a trip to Spain with me,” she continues, scrolling on her phone as she holds it a little too close to her face before turning the screen to Eli.
He flinches, like he might be assaulted with an unwanted phallus.
But when he sees the screen, his brows shoot up and his eyes go wide.
“Holy hell, that’s your ex?”
Involuntarily, I crane my neck to get a better look, but I can’t see.
Eli takes the phone from Bea to look more closely and then twists it to show me, like I’m part of the conversation even though Bea is definitely pouring her soul out to Eli.
The screen shows a handsome guy in swim trunks with model levels of abs, one arm slung around a surfboard.
“Despite my better judgement,” Bea says, slightly slurred, apparently not caring Eli was showing me her phone.
“I stalked him on Instagram and apparently, he and his ‘girlfriend’”—she does air quotes around the word— “went to Australia for three weeks before Christmas.” Eli passes her phone back and winces at her in apology.
“So, even Dull Dick is doing better than me right now.”
“You’re doing great, Bea,” Eli tries to assure her.
“It’s brave what you’ve done, moving away, starting a business, living alone.
You’re doing great things, and you should be proud of yourself.
Maybe you’ve had some hiccups, but I think the stress of moving and the wine is making them seem worse than they are right now. ”
She nods, her lip wobbling. “I think I might be drunk,” she whimpers.
Eli nods. “Yeah, I think so too. Let’s maybe take this away.” He picks up the now empty bottle and drops it into the glass bin behind the bar.
“You’re so nice,” Bea says, looking up at him like he’s the chosen one to take away all of her problems and my gut lurches in my belly because I want to take away her problems…
even though, I’m probably the biggest problem of all.
“You’d come to Spain for a week of mediocre sex and paella with me, wouldn’t you? ”
Eli, because he’s a gentleman, does an absolutely stellar job, of holding his amusement at bay while he smiles at her and lays a big hand on her shoulder. “Sure, but you should probably know I’m super gay, so the sex would probably be worse than mediocre.”
Bea does not look the least bit disappointed by this revelation, making me think she isn’t actually hoping to fuck my best friend, and I don’t want to examine the relief filling me too closely. Instead, she gives a half smile. “That figures, the nice ones usually are.”
Eli chuckles a little and visibly squeezes her shoulder before letting her go. Bea sighs and lowers her head to the bar again, this time laying her cheek atop it and closing her eyes. Then Eli is in front of me, looking far less friendly.
“Seriously?” he asks.
“Seriously what?” I feign innocence.
“You told her you hate her?” Eli being mad at me is worse than my parents being mad at me.
His disappointment always stings because he’s usually the one who ignores my surliness and bad moods, making jokes about it rather than telling me to try harder.
So, having him look at me with those narrowed green eyes like I’ve just kicked a puppy gives me an uncomfortable squirmy feeling in my belly.
“Not in so many words.” It’s the wrong thing to say because he huffs and sucks on his teeth like he does when he’s really mad.
“You need to get over it, August. Seriously, because you’re actually a pretty decent guy and I like calling you my friend. But if you don’t make this right, you’re not doing yourself justice and you’re making it hard to stick by you.”
“I know,” I groan, swiping a calloused hand over my overgrown stubble. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologise to.” We both look over to Bea, who may have fallen asleep.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit and look back to him for some help. But he just shakes his head again.
“Nope, not this time, buddy. You got yourself into this, you get yourself out. I’m on Team Bea.”
Well, that stings.
“But you know, actions speak louder than words and right now. I think she could probably use a little help getting home.”
I frown at Bea, now snoring on the bar top. “Uh…I don’t know what I’m meant to do with that.” I gesture toward her.
Eli grunts like a bull looking at the giant red flag I clearly am right now. “What any decent red-blooded man would do with a drunk, vulnerable woman, August.” I raise a brow at him. “Take her back to her place, get her inside, maybe help her to her room, make sure she’s comfortable, and leave.”
I grumble because dealing with drunk people is hell, but I don’t argue because I’ve already been well and truly scolded and should probably start making amends.
Standing, I wake Darcy and he’s up on all four feet, looking slightly dazed, and I head over to Bea, casting a shadow over her sleeping form.
She cracks one eye open to look up at me.
“Are you here to yell at me?” she asks, all sad and pathetic and my heart mocks me with a tight squeeze.
“No,” I say, not particularly kindly.
“Are you mad at me?” she warbles.
“No.” I sigh, trying to hold on to my patience with both hands. “Come on, sunshine, I’m taking you home.”
She sits up too fast, judging by the way she tilts on her stool, and gives three exaggerated blinks up at me. “You are?”
“Yeah, come on.” I gently wrap my hand around her upper arm to help her down from the stool and let out a relieved breath when she doesn’t flinch from my touch.
Stumbling a bit when her feet hit the floor, I help to pull her upright and we’re standing chest to stomach, close enough her breasts press lightly to my upper abdomen.
Her head is tilted right back to look at me, bright blue eyes shining with the tears she cried while telling Eli about all the shit she’s dealing with.
Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are tinged pink and wetness clings to her lashes.
For the first time, I notice a tiny mole under her left eye, just under her lower lashes. Fuck, she’s beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers to me, and I fight the urge to brush her pink hair back from where it’s stuck to her cheek.
“For what?” I croak, holding steady.