18. Drunk Call
18
Drunk Call
WINTER
With deafening music busting my ears, I slam the empty shot glass on the counter and sink my teeth into the lemon wedge with a gag. I’m not a hundred percent sure how many shots is too much. But I do know I passed my limit a long time ago.
“That was awful.” I quiver in disgust while Alex, Kendrick, and Will cheer me on. Gathered around the bar, we stare at the countless tequila shots displayed in a line.
“What number was that?” It’s got to be over ten, at least.
“Six,” Will says, and I grimace. We’ve been at the club for a few hours now, and although the guys were nice enough to space out the shots, they weren’t kidding about me drinking the memory of Haze away.
“Okay, enough! She’s not actually drinking fourteen—she’ll throw up for hours,” Kass slurs and splits the eight shots amongst the guys. Allie, Kass, and I are already gone, thanks to our embarrassingly low tolerance, but the guys could keep going all night, and I don’t doubt for a second that they will if given the chance.
“I got to take a leak,” Kendrick says.
“Me too.” Allie gets off her stool.
“I’ll come with.” Kass follows.
As soon as they squeeze their way through the crowd, Alex’s phone rings. A smile spreads on his face at the caller ID.
“Who’s that? Your girl?” I tease. I find Morgan and Alex to be a surprisingly perfect match. I absolutely loved Morgan during the time I spent in Florida. I’m glad they found each other.
He nods, his smile widening. “I’ll be right back.”
He walks off, leaving me alone with Will for once in a blue moon. I’ve been dying to talk to him since he got here. Just because my love life is a disaster doesn’t mean his and Kass’s should be, too.
I remember how Will’s hands rolled into fists when some guy showed up at the bar and shamelessly hit on Kass earlier, the way he stared down the bottom of his beer bottle as though he was trying to drown in it. There’s still something there.
And it’s worth fighting for.
“Okay. What the hell happened with Kass?” I swap stools to sit next to him.
He scoffs. “Straightforward when we’re drunk, aren’t we?”
“I’m serious. Either you found out you’re gay or you’re really, really stupid, because you blew it, Will. Bad. You told me you loved her in your car that day and then—”
“Winter, can we not do this now?” he hisses and downs his tequila shot in seconds.
“Is it because of Kendrick?” I insist. “Because you’re scared of what he’ll say? He already found out, and you’re obviously still friends. Who cares at this point?” Apparently, six tequila shots make me persistent—more like annoying , but whatever.
“No, it’s not that…” He pauses. “You wouldn’t get it, okay?”
He tilts his beer back to take a sip.
“Do you want her with someone else?”
He stops moving.
Finally, he puts the glass bottle down and meets my eyes.
“Do you want her to move on from you? Is that what you want, Will?”
His eyes drop to the bar.
“It’s clear she still has feelings for you for now , but it won’t last forever. Sooner or later, you’ll lose her. For good. Some other dude will realize how great she is. She’ll meet some nice lawyer guy at college, fall deeply in love with him, and forget all about you. I don’t know why you left that day, or why you didn’t go back to Kass, but keep this up and you might just have to live the rest of your life wishing you’d had the balls to get the girl.”
I anticipate the rising of his walls but get the complete opposite. His barriers unravel before my eyes, falling to oblivion and leaving him unguarded.
“Okay, fine,” he gives in. “I’m going completely insane, but what the fuck am I supposed to do? I left. She probably hates me.”
“Did you try talking to her? Explaining?”
He nibbles on his lip. “I figured she’d moved on. She’s been icing the hell out of me. You really think she still cares?”
Boys are so stupid.
“I think you won’t know unless you try.”
He gets up, doesn’t say a word, and begins to walk away.
“Go get her, tiger!” I cheer, and he turns his head one second before the crowd sucks him in.
“Winter?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being a stubborn pain in the ass.”
“No problem.” My smile wavers. “Wait, what?”
He’s already gone.
“How much did you have to drink?” Allie leans forward and screams through the EBM music. The dance floor is packed, the kind of packed that would usually suffocate me, but I’m way too drunk to care.
“Just one drink.” I lift my glass to her eyes. “That I filled up multiple times.”
Allie breaks into laughter, circling my shoulders with her arm as we dance. It’s been an hour since I talked Will up. No sign of either him or Kass since then. Allie and I have been dancing by ourselves for a good thirty minutes while the guys took part in a chugging contest with strangers. When Kendrick and Alex push their way to us on the dance floor, Allie flings her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. They kiss, grope—the whole package—and for the first time since they got together, I have to look away. I focus on the blinking lights, the dizzying bass, everything but the happy couple next to me. I keep dancing, finishing my drink in one gulp, and by the time I turn around…
Everybody’s gone.
How long have I been dancing alone?
I get off the dance floor, stumbling my way toward the entrance of the pub for much-needed fresh air. My phone rings, and I pull it out, expecting it to be Allie calling to ask where I am. It’s not.
Haze Adams is calling.
My heart sinks.
I don’t answer, and a new voicemail pops up on my screen.
A couple of seconds pass. He calls again.
Does this boy have absolutely no clue as to when he should give up?
I watch the incoming call for a while. Then I do something I’ll probably regret tomorrow.
“You do know one voicemail is just as effective as thirty-four?” I blurt.
He doesn’t speak right away,
“Winter?” He sounds in disbelief that I picked up.
“Who else?”
“Are you… okay?”
Now that I finally took his call, he’s not sure what to say.
“No, I’m not okay. I fell for a fucking moron! You keep lying to me. Why are you always lying to me? Is there a sign on my forehead that says I’m a dumbass, please lie to me ?”
“Are you drunk?” His tone shifts from shocked to worried.
“I would’ve done everything for you, but you keep fucking with my heart and… You know what? I want my heart back. You don’t know how to take care of it. I’ll be expecting a refund in five business days.” I snort at my own joke until I’m hit by the urge to start sobbing. Drunk-girl problems.
“You’re completely wasted,” he states.
“Well, thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“What have you been drinking?”
I scoff. “You mean what I have not been drinking.”
“Winter,” he warns.
“Chill, Mom. Just tequila.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“In the closet, looking for Narnia.”
I don’t know this girl.
“Answer the question,” he insists.
I tell him the club name. Why am I still talking to him?
I want to go back inside the second I walk outside. It’s cold as heck, and I left my coat at the coat check.
“Are you alone?”
“Of course not. I came here with Allie, Kass, and the guys, but everybody left me to go make out. Turns out some boyfriends aren’t lying pieces of shit.” I almost trip over my own feet.
He completely dismisses my insults. “I’ll be there in ten.”
The line goes dead.
Only then do I realize what I’ve done.
Well, shit.
HAZE
Parking my car in the no-parking zone in front of the building without a care, I scan the large fluorescent sign reading the club’s name in capital letters. I can’t think straight, blinded by anger. Why did she do this to herself? A million scenarios, each worse than the last, clash in my head. She’s wasted and vulnerable in a place filled with perverts preying on drunk girls. Guilt stabs me.
She’s in there getting drunk because of you.
Pushing people out of my way, I sneak into the nightclub while the bouncer is checking out the tits of a blonde in line. I scan the crowd, searching for her face. I spot her at the bar, talking to some asshole. I immediately recognize her dress. She looks so fucking good, and I hate that I’m not the only one noticing.
My feet lead the way. Next thing I know, I’m standing tall next to them. She fake-laughs at something he said. I know Winter’s laugh, and this one? Complete bullshit. Still, it still ignites a spark of jealousy within me.
“What’s a babe like you doing here alone?”
My fists clench. He’s going to need a face transplant if he calls her that one more time.
“She’s not alone,” I cut in, and she jumps at the sight of me.
“Haze? I told you not to come,” she scolds, almost falling off her stool. I’ve never seen her this drunk.
“Do I look like I care? We’re leaving.” I reach for her arm, but she flings it away from my grasp, her fingers adverting to her drink for another sip. “Give me that.” I swipe the glass from her hand and throw its contents over my shoulder without bothering to check behind me.
A girl shrieks and glances around for someone to blame.
Oops.
“Hey!” Winter’s angry face should probably be threatening, but it only enhances how adorable she is.
The guy interrupts us. “Do you have a problem, man?”
“Yeah, you,” I say blatantly.
“What did you just say?” He gets up from his seat.
“Kyle, don’t.” She steps in between us.
“My name’s Kevin,” the guys says, offended, and I can’t stop a mocking laugh from spilling out of me. She doesn’t spare him a single look.
“I’ll go with you. No need to freak out, Hazie.”
Leading the way to the exit, she squeezes through the crowd, almost tripping over thin air multiple times. By instinct, I wrap my arms around her waist to help her stand. She stiffens up at my touch but doesn’t reject it. Far from it. She leans back into me for support, her shoulders deflating with relief.
Does she miss me as much as I miss her?
If she was sober, she’d have kicked my ass about four times by now. I get her coat at the front, and we walk out of the club. I help her get into the passenger seat of my car, then speed down the frozen roads in complete silence. A soft snow covers my windshield.
“Why did you do this to yourself?” I ask after a while.
“What, you mean have fun? Sorry, didn’t know it was a crime,” she grumbles.
“You don’t have to get wasted to have fun, Winter.”
“Maybe, but I have to get wasted to stop thinking about you.”
My lungs miss a breath.
She said that so casually. Like it wouldn’t wreck the fuck out of me. We come to a red light, and I look her way. I can’t help zooming in on her pouty red lips. Her lipstick makes her mouth look like fucking candy to me.
“Well, here’s a problem. I don’t want you to stop thinking about me.”
She severs the eye contact. “Sucks to be you, then.”
Let me tell you: it sucks to be me all right.
When I pull into the apartment parking spot, I hurry out of the car in fear that she’ll run to the door and go right back to ignoring me.
“Do you need a hand with getting inside?” I help her out of my car.
“No.” She trips two steps in, and I catch her.
“Come on.” I motion to the door with my chin.
“I said I don’t need help.”
“I don’t care.” I lace her arm around my shoulder with one hand on her waist, and she doesn’t fight me further. I unlock the door for her. We enter the elevator, and I select our floor. Just as we’re about to step into the hall, she wiggles out of my reach and presses every single button on the elevator panel.
“What the hell are you doing?” I rush her out before the doors close.
“I always wanted to do that,” she snickers, proud of herself.
I can’t help my grin as we march down the hall. I unlock the door for her and flip the light switch while she sends her shoes flying. Waze comes running down the hall with a waving tail. Excited beyond belief, he jumps on Winter, then on me.
“Hi, baby.” Winter kneels down to pet him, and I wince at the scene. He was supposed to be ours. I wonder if she changed his name. Rising back up, she struggles to remove her coat. I tug on her sleeves to make it easier.
“What happened to you?” I frown at the sight of a huge stain on her dress. It smells and looks sticky as fuck. Makes sense that I didn’t notice in the darkness of the club. “Is that booze?”
“No, it’s piss.” She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, it’s booze, duh .”
“We’ve got to get you changed.”
“I just want to sleep.” She pets Waze some more and rushes to the bedroom. I follow, but I can’t stop her from jumping on our bed—sorry, her bed—in a starfish position.
“Sober Winter would commit murder if she saw you right now,” I mock. Winter is kind of a clean freak; she got that from her mom. I usually have to take my shoes off the second I walk in. So, jumping on our bed with a dirty, sticky dress? She’d lose it. “Promise you’ll get changed once I leave.”
“Or what?”
“Or you’ll sleep in your disgusting dress and regret it tomorrow.”
She arches an eyebrow, propping herself on her elbows as she analyzes me intently. Then she gets off the bed and walks over to me.
“There are a lot of things I could do and regret tomorrow.”
I can practically hear myself gulp at her words.
“Just promise you’ll take it off and I’ll lea—”
My eyes want to pop out of their sockets when she tugs her dress straps down her shoulders and strips right in front of me. The fabric falls to her feet, exposing her white lace underwear and perfectly curved body.
Fuck.
Feeling like I’m violating her, I tear my eyes away.
“Winter.” I scold.
“What? You don’t like the view?” She moves forward, so close her breasts mash against my chest.
“You need to sleep.” I keep my eyes firmly on the wall, every fiber of my being begging me to take just one look.
It’s fine. I can do this. I can control myself… I think?
“I should go.” I clear my throat and begin to turn away, but she stops me.
“Don’t. Stay.” Her face is barely an inch from mine.
“You don’t mean that. You’re just dru—”
I’m cut off by her mouth colliding with mine.
Sirens and warning bells blare out in my head. Still, I kiss her back. I jerk her body closer and cave to her familiar and eager lips. Tequila lingers on her tongue, but she tastes like fucking relief to me.
Relief, happiness…
Misery.
The misery I’ll feel when she comes to her senses and leaves me again.
I take her lip between my teeth, and a moan emanates from somewhere deep within her throat. I’m already so fucking hard you’d think we were doing way more than kissing.
Stop, this isn’t right.
My body won’t comply to my brain. I missed this. Her skin, her lips, every inch of her. I thought I’d never get to feel her this way again. Every touch feels like running out of time. I want more. I need more. But more may never come, so I can’t let go while it’s here.
I lift her up into my arms, and she closes her legs around my waist the way she’s done so many times before.
Winter.
My Winter.
I collapse on top of her on our bed, and she grinds against me with clear intent. She’s this close to being completely naked, and I know if she—
She unhooks her bra in one move and lobs it to the floor.
Just like that, I’m a goner.
My instincts take over, and I slide my hand up her ribs to grab a handful of her tits. I nibble at her neck, suck on the soft skin under her ear. Her breathing grows hollow, and when I twirl my tongue around her nipple, biting the tip lightly, she cries out. She captures my face and slams our mouths together again, seeking my belt to unbuckle it.
“I think someone’s awake,” she smirks and curves her hand inside my jeans.
Haze, what the fuck are you doing?
“Stop!” I snap back to reality. “We can’t.”
I’m off her body and back to my feet in seconds. I could punch myself. Talk about poor self-control.
“What? Why?” she questions.
“Because you’re not yourself right now.”
She’s about to say something, but she clamps her mouth shut, suddenly very aware of her nakedness. She covers her nipples with her arms. Silent, I walk to the closet and throw her one of the T-shirts I left here. One, because I couldn’t possibly pack everything all at once, and, second, because I needed an excuse to come back.
“I’m not sleeping with you knowing that you’ll regret it tomorrow. I respect you too much.”
“I won’t. I won’t regret it. Haze, I’ll never regret you.” The glimmer in her eyes kills me. The worst part is, I know, right now, in her drunk, non-Winter state, she genuinely believes that.
“Yes, you will,” I protest.
You already have.
She pulls my shirt over her head. I love seeing her wear something that’s mine. If it’s the only way part of me will ever be close to her again, I’ll give her my whole goddamn closet.
I’m such a whipped little bitch.
“I really should go.” I shake my head, inwardly cursing my lack of judgment, and walk to the door.
“Don’t,” she yelps .
I stop.
“Please, stay. Please.” she begs.
Just the alcohol talking, Haze. Not really how she feels.
I glance at her over my shoulder. “You’re going to wake up tomorrow and want me to leave.”
“No, I won’t.” She shakes her head. “I promise, I won’t. Just stay, please. I don’t want to spend another night without you. Not again. Not ever.”
How I wish she could wake up sober and still mean that.
“You hate me,” I remind her.
With sad eyes, she says, “Almost as much as I love you.”
Her words rip me open.
Then piece me back together.
Then tear me apart once more.
I didn’t know how bad I needed that confirmation until now. To hear her say that she still loves me. That there’s still hope. I get my coat off, walk over to the bed, and slip under the blanket. She snuggles up to me, resting her head on my chest and nuzzling her nose in my neck. This feels so different. So fragile. I extend my arm around her and stroke her shoulder.
“Good night, Haze,” she murmurs.
And in that moment,
For a brief instant, the tiniest, fleetest of seconds,
It feels like we’re okay and I’ll see her smiling at me in the morning.