~*~*~
Two nights later, Veronica and I sat at a bar a couple blocks down from Avery’s office. Turns out my place was a little too secluded for her. I wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible, but she was making us stick out. I’d been asked for more autographs since I walked into the bar than during the entirety of my return to Seattle. Her new boyfriend had struck her, and I was the first person she’d thought of as an escape. I’m glad she left, but she needed to change her life, maybe go back to rehab. She’d promised to stop the drug usage, and for two days she’d maintained that, but at this point in the night, she was already wasted.
She tossed back her fourth shot and motioned for the bartender to give her another. “Stop sulking,” she said, shoving me with her shoulder. “Your mom will be fine, and fuck Avery. I didn’t like that bitch anyway.”
Of course she didn’t like Avery. She’d made my dick permanently unavailable for her to ride. And she’d tried.
“Never argue with a therapist. They take everything you say or do and turn it into some sort of neurosis or psychosis.” She chuckled, then slid her shot glass in front of me. “Here, this will help.”
I slid it back to her and said, “You know I don’t drink anymore.”
“I know.” She rolled her eyes. “You don’t drink, you don’t fuck—”
“Oh, I still fuck. It’s just not so random anymore.”
“Whatever, we’ll just leave this here in case you need it.” She slid it back in front of me, then hopped off her barstool and headed to the dance floor.
Since Avery walked out of the diner a few days before, I’d made myself scarce. Maybe Veronica was a reminder of what my life would be like without Avery, and I didn’t like it. So despite my reservations, I picked up my phone and called her.
“Why are you calling, Xander?” she answered warily.
“I just wanted to hear your voice. See if you were okay.”
She sighed, and I heard her shuffle around like she was in bed. “Don’t call anymore, Xander.”
“Wait! Don’t hang up.” I traced my finger over the edge of the shot glass.
“What?”
“I know you hate me right now, but just know… I love you… okay?”
There was a stretched-out silence; then the line went dead. She’d hung up, and I didn’t know if I expected differently. I pushed my phone back into my pocket and ran my fingers through my hair. I felt her giving up on us, and that was something I wasn’t ready to do.
I stared at the shot glass for what seemed like an hour. And I swear it felt like it weighed a ton when I lifted it. I’d stopped thinking and only felt. When the liquid burned its way down my throat, it tasted like betrayal, because I’d betrayed myself by succumbing to it.
After that, it was like a domino effect—once I hit one, more followed. I remembered Veronica leaving with some guy she’d met, and I was still glued to my stool with a shot glass as company. I scrolled through my phone a thousand times, willing myself not to call Avery again. But once you start drinking, all your inhibitions vanish.
Drunken Calls
Avery
Xander’s heavy body pressed me into the mattress. His cock was thick and hard, pushing into me, filling me just the way I remembered. I traced the hard planes of his back as his muscles bunched from the strength of his thrusts. Caressed his smooth skin and savored the sounds of his harsh breaths against my ear. I took pleasure in the feel of his skin, the sound of his groans, and the feel of his cock inside me. I was soaring toward a shattering orgasm when—
I woke with a start. I was hot and sweating and breathing as though my fuck-mare was real. That’s what I called them now because I couldn’t escape them. My fuck-mares of Xander were becoming commonplace. My body was suffering from abandonment, and its only satisfaction came from hot erotic dreams of all the ways I wanted Xander to fuck me.
My phone rang, and I realized the sound had woken me. I reached out and picked it up without looking. “Hello.”
“Don’t hang up… I wanna talk to you.” Xander slurred his words.
“Xander, are you okay?” I sat up in bed, trying to clear the sleep from my head.
“I need to… Can I come see you…? Just this once… one last time.”
“Have you been drinking?” God, don’t let him have broken his sobriety, I prayed as my heart clenched.
“No—yes, but I’m fine… Avery?”
“Yeah…?” I climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair a loose shorts and another tank top since the one I wore to sleep in was sweat-soaked.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
Not now. I really didn’t want to deal with this now. We had too much going on for me to be feeling this inside out about his drinking.
“Where are you, Xander?” I purposely tried to ignore his apology because it made me feel things I didn’t want.
“I don’t know. Some bar… Need to see you… Coming to see you.”
“No, tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.” There was no way I was ever again letting Xander get behind the wheel drunk.
“A couple blocks from your office.” His breathing was heavy, and I knew he’d had more than one drink.
“Just stay there and I’ll come, okay?” He didn’t respond, but I still heard the noise from the bar in the background as I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.
“Xander?” Silence. But I heard his breaths coming through the line.
“I fucked up, Avery. I just… I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t work, kept thinking about what I did to you—your parents. What I did to her.” He fell silent as I started the car. “I don’t know how to do this. Some people just… don’t deserve love.” He sighed out a breath as his words stole mine. My chest tightened, and I clutched the steering wheel as the phone went dead.
“Fuck!” I slammed my hands against the wheel and laid my forehead on it. I was angry, irritated, and most of all, I was convinced. Convinced I’d fallen so deeply for Xander I wouldn’t be able to push him out of my life. The fact that I was rushing off at two in the morning to find him in some unknown bar only proved it. Despite everything, Xander had the ability to make me drop everything. Xander still had the ability to make me love him.
After going to two bars on the same street as my office, I found Xander at a small pub a few blocks down. He was at the bar. A woman sat on his right side, trying to get his attention, but he was more interested in his shot glass. He held the glass in his hand and spun it as he stared at it. If he was contemplating getting another drink, I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I slid onto the stool beside him, staring straight ahead, purposely avoiding direct contact with him. “Ready to go?”
He turned his attention from the shot glass to me.
“You came.” He sounded amazed I’d actually shown up. He rested his elbow on the bar top and leaned his face on his fisted hand. “Are you angry?”
Furious , actually.
“I just want to get you home safely. Can we leave now?” I was tense, and my words came out through gritted teeth.
He reached out and touched my hair, caressing a lock between his fingers. I was tempted to pull away, but I didn’t want to do or say anything that initiated a heart-filled, alcohol-induced confession. The woman to his right realized she wasn’t gaining his attention tonight and left his side.
I stilled as he buried his fingers into my hair, leaned in, and sniffed me. “You always smell so good… edible.”
I jumped off my stool when I felt his tongue moving up my neck. “Let’s go,” I said, ignoring the heat that had quickly blossomed over that minor touch. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, and he reluctantly stood and followed me out of the bar.
He dozed off, mumbling incoherent words, as I drove to his place. When we got there, I woke him, dug his keys out of his pocket, and led him into the house. I helped him into his bedroom, and that was when I should’ve bailed. But I stayed, pulling off his shoes and jeans before he collapsed on the bed.