I regretted going out the moment that first shot burned my throat.
Hell, I regretted it seconds after we left the house.
I definitely fucking regretted it when we walked into a random bar and the first person I saw was the bartender. The very reason I was out in the first place.
If I thought the Greenies uniform was bad, it has nothing on this. Short denim skirt, a cropped black t-shirt, fucking miles of bare, tan skin. A few strands of hair secured back in a loose braid, the rest flowing around her shoulders. She looked fucking phenomenal blonde, but shit, she might look even better brunette.
I didn’t think that was possible.
Luna being here, looking that fucking good, contributed to me getting drunker than I intended to, than I wanted to. The first couple of rounds, I knocked back quick because I felt like I needed them, like I needed to keep myself busy to stop myself from doing something foolish like marching over there. I thought it would calm me down. Would dull the… whatever the fuck I felt when I walked through those doors and saw her.
Instead, the excessive alcohol just amped up all those ideas and chiselled down my willpower not to do them.
I probably should’ve left. A smarter person would’ve left. But I never claimed to be smart so I stayed. Planted myself at this table, one hand gripping the side of my chair like that might keep me in it, and proceeded to drink myself silly until maybe, maybe, I could forget she was here.
It probably would’ve worked if she hadn’t done the exact same thing.
Her shift must’ve ended not long after we arrived because she’s gone from being behind the bar to sitting at it. For the last hour or so, she’s been knocking back a stomach-churning combination of red wine and vodka shots, alternating between laughing with the pretty brunette bartender and making friends with the pair of guys huddled beside her.
The round she dropped off at our table was the last I indulged in. After that, I was too busy staring at her to drink. Too busy staring at the dickheads crowding her. Too busy tensing every time they inch closer.
It seems like the more I sober up, the drunker she gets. I can tell when she starts tipping towards the sloppy end of the scale because she gets louder, starts slipping off the barstool, starts slowing down. I bet if she turned around, her eyes would be hazy, half-shut in that way they tend to go when she’s had too much, and her cheeks would have that familiar rosy flush I love.
Loved.
Whatever.
“You’re staring,” a voice slurs as an arm snakes around my shoulders, shaking me playfully.
I jerk an elbow back into Nick’s stomach. I’m not staring. I’m just… checking on her. Making sure she’s alright. Keeping an eye on her drink since she clearly isn’t.
Nick doesn’t seem to get that. “Just go talk to her.”
“I did talk to her.”
“You call that talking?” Nick snorts. “You said one word and then gazed lovingly at each other for ten minutes.”
“Leave him alone.” Cass loops an arm around Nick’s neck and yanks him away from me. Nick shrugs him off, shoving his future brother-in-law away from him with a roll of his eyes. When the two of them inevitably start bickering over nothing, like usual, my gaze strays back to Luna.
I don’t like what I see.
She’s facing me now, back braced against the counter. She’s not looking at me though. The guys on either side of her have her full attention. Have her laughing, head thrown back and eyes closed so she doesn’t see the look the creeps share.
Nothing but fucking predatory.
The bigger of the two rests a hand on her thigh and leans in to whisper something in her ear. She laughs again, louder this time, before almost falling on her face as she hops off the barstool. When both guys steer her toward the door, I’m on my way over there before my mind can catch up with my feet.
I don’t stop until I’m right in front of her. Almost in slow motion, her head tilts back to look up at me, blue eyes widening a fraction. They widen even more when I ask, “You okay?”
The guy gripping her waist scoffs. “She’s good.”
I don’t waste my energy acknowledging him. “Luna, are you okay?”
She doesn’t respond. Just blinks. Just stares at me with this weird look on her face like she’s not sure I’m actually here. God, she’s so fucking out of it.
I have to grasp my temper with two hands when the guy squashes her against the side of his body, coaxing a wince out of her. “I said she’s fine.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
His friend barks out a laugh. “What are you, her boyfriend?”
“No.” Luna beats me to answering, her voice so slurred I can barely make out the words. “Not my boyfriend.”
Her words, truthful as they are, are like a punch to the gut, an unwanted reminder that we’re not together and she’s seeing someone, but I shrug it off.
The guys huff simultaneously. “Listen, back off. She wants to come home with us. Don’t you, babe?”
The look on Luna’s face says the opposite. “I-”
“We’re leaving.” The handsy one tries to drag her away but she wriggles from his grip. She stumbles, managing to take a single step away before the other guy links a hand around her bicep and tugs her towards him. “Come on, you said you wanted to have some fun.”
“I-” Luna frowns. “I wanna go home.”
“We’ll take you home.”
Over my dead fucking body.
“Luna.” Her gaze flicks to mine. I hold out a hand towards her, hoping no one notices it shaking. “C’mere.”
Relief is too small of a word to describe what floods me when she takes a wobbly step my way. A soft hand slips into mine, nails painted a pearly purple color digging into my skin as she clings to me. Another step forward and her forehead meets my chest, voice muffled. “Make them go away.”
My shoulders relax as she slumps against me, a ragged breath leaving me. I wrap an arm around her waist, erasing that dumbass’ touch, holding her tightly against me. Fixing a glare on those guys, I jerk my head towards the door. “Find your fun somewhere else.”
“Hey-” They step forward, furious gazes flitting between me and Luna.
The second he does, I feel a presence on either side of me, Nick and Cass’ shoulders knocking against mine. In one smooth move, they’ve shoved both of them backwards, Nick snatching Luna’s things while Cass angles himself slightly in front of us. “Fuck off.”
For a long moment, the pair survey us, probably weighing up whether or not starting something is worth it, before eventually ambling off. “Fucking cocktease,” one of them grumbles as he stomps away.
Jackass.
Luna tenses in my grip, nails digging into me harder. When my thumb rubs soothing circles across the sliver of bare skin above the waistband of her skirt, she relaxes slightly, letting go of my hand to grip my shirt between her fists.
“I didn’t do anything,” she murmurs into my chest, voice thick with frustration. “They said they’d walk me to my Uber. I thought they were nice.”
My hand instinctively goes up to cup the back of her head, my arm tightening around her, my chin resting atop of her head. “You’re okay.”
I have to fight to keep the anger from my voice. I’m pissed. Pissed at the two jackasses who tried to take advantage of her. Pissed that apparently, no one else in this damn bar noticed it happening. And yeah, I’m a little pissed at her too, for wandering off with them. The last one might not be rational, or my place, but I can’t help it. She knows better than that. She’s smarter than that.
Lu doesn’t move as I drop my hand to take her stuff from Nick, who’s watching me with careful, cautionary eyes. Ben’s appeared now too, peering around an equally concerned looking Cass to try to get a look at Luna. “She okay?”
Without moving her face from my chest, Luna nods at the same time I do. Dropping my head so my lips are level with her ear, I ask quietly, “You want me to call the girls?”
She shakes her head.
“Pen?”
“She’s out.” Propping her chin on my chest, tired, slightly dazed eyes stare up at me. “Will you take me home, please?”
It’s another one of the things I know I definitely shouldn’t do, yet I find myself nodding anyway.
She falls asleep in the back of the Uber.
Like passed out, dead to the world kind of asleep.
Before, I wouldn’t have minded. I’d probably laugh a little, maybe snap a picture to send to the girls or use as blackmail. It would be fine if her head wasn’t in my lap, her knees pulled up to her chest as she curls up almost completely on top of me, one arm wrapped around my thigh as she hugs it to her. Even asleep, I’m half convinced she’s trying to kill me.
When we pull up outside her place, I squeeze her shoulder gently, whispering her name. She barely even stirs. Squeezing her a little harder, I give her a shake. “Lu, you gotta wake up now.”
A quiet groan leaves her throat, vibrating up my thigh. “Don’t wanna.”
She protests further when I open the car door, sliding out from underneath her and exiting the car. Offering the driver an apologetic smile, I half-drag, half-carry Luna out after me. “Can you walk?”
She takes one step and confirms the answer is a resounding ‘hell no.’
A squealed laugh escapes her as I scoop her up with a sigh, cradling her in my arms and starting towards her second-floor apartment. She wastes no time getting comfortable, apparently completely unphased by being carried up two flights of stairs by her ex-boyfriend. Awkwardly opening the front door when the keys I wrangled out of her purse, I side-shuffle my way in, careful not to bang her head against the doorframe.
It’s nice, this new place of hers. Bigger than the old one, despite the fact there’s only two of them living here. That makes sense though, I guess, considering Pen’s dad is some hotshot lawyer-turned-professor. The guy probably bought this whole damn complex for his precious daughter.
I open the first door I see and luck must be on my side because it’s definitely Luna’s bedroom. It’s almost identical to her old one, the same fluffy rug on the floor, the same soft, pink blanket tossed haphazardly across her bed, the same pictures and posters decorating her wall. It smells the same too. Vanilla.
But that might just be the girl curled up against my chest.
Gently, I set her limp form down on the bed. With a sigh, she curls up into a ball. She doesn’t react, or even open her eyes, as I pull her feet onto my lap and ease her shoes off, or when I leave the room to go rummage around in the kitchen for some painkillers and a bottle of water.
I, however, definitely fucking react when I return to her room and find a half-naked, wobbly girl struggling out of her clothes. There’s a split second when all I see is tan skin and lacy underwear before my mind catches up with my eyes and I avert my gaze to a safer area, like her face. She’s managed to wriggle out of her skirt, kicked it halfway across the room too, but she’s gotten herself caught up in her t-shirt. It would be a laughable sight, if not for the half-naked thing.
Or the ex-girlfriend thing.
Or the her being drunk off her ass thing.
“Jesus, Lu.” I sigh as I walk towards her. Tapping her shoulder so she stops wriggling, I guide her free from the tangled mess she’s inexplicably created. When I pull the shirt over her head, I’m greeted by the sight of dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks. A lazy smile pulls at her lips as a giggle escapes her, accompanied by a slurred ‘whoops’ that draws a matching smile out of me.
I don’t know if it’s the smile or the laugh or just fucking her, but a moment of weakness hits me. I find myself reaching up to smooth down her hair, to tuck some of the wild strands behind her ears so I can see her face properly. And then, on their own accord, my hands move to cup her face, just for a second, just long enough that the warmth of her cheeks soaks my hands. Long enough that she leans into me, letting out a tired, content hum as her eyes drift shut.
She’s seeing someone.
I drop my hands like she’s burned me.
Abruptly taking a step back, I clear my throat, looking anywhere but at her. In an effort to busy my wandering hands, I turn on my heel and head for her closet, on a mission to find her pajamas. She used to keep them in the bottom drawer so I check there first, and I’m right. An array of neatly folded pajamas stare back at me.
My pajamas.
The soft t-shirts and sweats I wore whenever I stayed over. A couple of my hoodies, including a Rays one that I thought I lost at practice. Even a few pairs of boxers that I’m positive are mine.
I don’t let myself think about it too much, don’t let my brain read into it. I just grab a t-shirt and slam the drawer shut. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Here-” I start to say, mouth snapping shut when I turn around and find Luna with her back to me. A groan attempts to rip from my throat as her hands curl behind her, reaching for her bra strap, fingers struggling to undo the clasp.
Her little whine of annoyance has me shifting in place, as does the pouty look she shoots me over her shoulder. “Help?”
Yup. Definitely trying to kill me.
Draping her pajamas over my shoulder, I make my way towards her on legs almost as wobbly as hers. My hands shake as I reach up to undo the clasp, a lump forming in my throat when the straps fall down her shoulders. As quickly and as painlessly as possible, I help her change, very much trying to ignore the soft thud of her bra hitting the floor and my knuckles brushing against smooth skin.
Another content sight leaves her when I help her under the covers and she snuggles up to her pillow. She huffs as her hair falls in her face so I snatch up a stray scrunchie sitting on her bedside table and pull her hair back in a sorry excuse for a bun. That lazy smile returns as she reaches out to pat my hand softly. “Thank you.”
“That’s okay.”
A frown creases her face as she reaches up and tugs on a strand of my hair, confirming that maybe I’m not the only one with wandering hands. “You didn’t cut your hair.”
The almost bewildered expression on her face makes me smile. “Did you want me to cut my hair?”
She scrunches up her nose in distaste. “No. Never.”
“Okay.” A laugh tickles my throat. “I won’t.”
My answer must please her because she drops her hand, still smiling as her eyes drift shut. I wait a minute before carefully getting up to leave, making sure the water and painkillers are easily accessible.
I’ve one foot out the door when her quiet, sleepy voice stops me.
“Where’re you going?”
I stop in my tracks, turning around slowly. Propped up on one elbow, she’s staring at me, looking the epitome of confusion. Like she can’t possibly understand why I’m leaving. “I gotta go home, sweetheart.”
Her frown deepens. “Can you stay for a bit?” Even in her drunken state, she must notice the hesitation on my face. “I don’t like sleeping alone.”
And if that doesn’t just crack my chest wide open.
I can’t say no. I physically am incapable of saying no. When it comes to her, I always have been.
I’ll just stay until she falls asleep, I reason with myself as I walk towards her again, shoving off my jacket and toeing off my shoes.
She asked me to stay. I’d be a dick to say no.
If Amelia or Kate asked, I’d do it for them.
Someone has to make sure she doesn’t choke on her own vomit.
Those are the reasons I convince myself are true as I settle on the bed beside her, almost hanging off the edge in an effort not to touch her.
I’m just being a good friend.
