Chapter 10 | the tequila shots

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By the time we reach the last bar of the night, I'm roaring drunk. It started at Avanti with fancy cocktails after our ice cream. Then it moved to Rosette Hall where, sure enough, we all downed more than a few tequila shots. This was followed by Spotted James, and the Downer, before we're all stumbling down the steps of Press Play, a bar and club.

The music practically shakes the walls around us, sending a shiver up my spine of anticipation as we push into the packed crowd. Since it's summer, there are less college students and more millennials around, but it's still full to the brim with people being that it's nearly 1 am.

"I want more drink!" Shouts Maddie over the music, tugging me towards the bar and I trip after her, knowing I didn't need another drink, but I wasn't going to say 'no' just yet. Maddie on the other hand, should be cut off, especially as she wobbles alarmingly standing still while we wait to order our drinks.

"Maybe water?" I say to her, and she shakes her head.

"No, tequila!" she cries, throwing her arms around me and squeezing me close.

"I'll get us a round of shots," I hear Lukas say, coming up behind us before elbowing his way through a few people with no shame. He's surprisingly fast, as he turns around the within the next few minutes, a tray of shots, a glass of limes, and saltshaker in hand.

"Come on," he gestures us towards a row of booths in the back where everyone else is seated. Maddie and I follow, feeling some type of way when she slides into one side of the booth, leaving me the only seat left which is next to Wyatt.

I'd been trying to avoid him since the Spotted James, where I'd come very close to dancing with him again and had to stop myself by forcing myself to get another shot. I don't know why, but in my mind, the drunker I got, the more I'd be able to distract myself from the fact that I wanted to run my hand into the opening of his button-down shirt.

"You good?" he asks as I stumble into the booth and I nod, giggling.

"Hmm mm," I say, sliding in closer while still trying to maintain a respectful distance that my brother would approve of.

"You've been avoiding me," he murmurs, leaning in closer and I shake my head, feeling my cheeks flush instantly.

"No," I say, even though it's a lie. "No, I—I just..."

"I'm just teasing you," he grins, and I laugh, shaking my head.

"You're—the thing is," I trip over my words, maybe more drunk than I thought as my eyes trail his handsome face and dip lower to his necklaces. "I just don't want to disappoint anyone."

"How could you do that?" he asks, sliding his arm over the back of the booth and moving closer so we can hear each other better over the music. "I don't think it's possible."

"I know," I sigh, shaking my head, not sure what I'm trying to say. "I know, I don't know what I'm saying—I'm drunk so," I glance towards the tray of shots, grabbing two and sliding one to him. "Let's take another shot."

"Alright." He laughs as I grab a couple limes and the saltshaker. We take the shots together, the tequila losing its punch a bit, and that's how I know I'm really gone. River and Dallas take theirs, but Maddie passes, looking like she's on the verge of passing out as she slumps against Nick who also shakes his head. Lukas and Olivia down theirs quickly, moving to the dance floor and sliding the last two shots back to Wyatt and me.

We glance to each other then, as if we know taking this shot will put us both over the edge and then we'd really be unable to control ourselves. But, in my drunk mind, it's something I want so I raise the glass, and he nods, holding his up as well.

Once we've got the shots down, everyone heads for the dance floor, Maddie revitalized as we dance to the throwback hits blasting around us. We move our bodies to the music, my eyes repeatedly finding Wyatt's as I sway with my friends and push my hands up my body suggestively. Soon though, the flashing lights and musty air are making me feel a bit dizzy, my feet tripping over one another.

I move towards Wyatt, who seems a lot steadier than I am, nearly falling in the process and he holds his arms out catching me.

"Easy," he laughs, pulling me closer and holding me up.

"Sorry," I giggle. "I am drunk."

"You wanna go home?" he asks me, steadying me so that I can look him in the eye. Without thinking I nod, knowing that the night will only go downhill for me from here.

"Hmm," I say. "Can we get a snack?"

"Of course," he nods, smiling as he keeps me upright. "And probably some water too."

He nods to Lukas, gesturing something before guiding me gently off the dance floor. Then he's pushing us through the crowd, pausing to grab a plastic cup with water at the edge of the bar before helping me up the stairs, where we're greeted with the cool night air.

The calm of the night immediately soothes me, not feeling so drunk now that I'm away from the pounding bass and flashing lights.

"Here," Wyatt says, pushing the water cup into my hands and I drink it gratefully while he pulls his phone out, probably ordering us an Uber.

"Thank you." I gulp, finishing the water and clutching the cup to my chest.

"Feeling a bit better?" He asks and I nod. The Uber pulls up soon, and we slide in, giving them my address. Wyatt tells me he's just going to make sure I get home safe, and then he'll walk from my house to his apartment.

We're on Broadway when the realization hits me, and I gasp.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and I groan out loud.

"River has my house key." I cry and Wyatt grins. "What am I gonna do? I don't know when they're coming home."

"Hey," he reassures me. "It's alright, we can go to mine and wait it out. Once you know they're home, I'll get you there."

"You're sure?" I ask pathetically, slumping against his shoulder and he laughs gently.

"It's not even a question," he insists. "Though, if you don't want me to worry in the future, you should make sure you start carrying a key with you."

"Okay," I sigh. "I usually do, I just forgot tonight."

"It's your birthday," he says. "So, no big deal."

He asks the driver to change the destination, an easy switch since we weren't too close to my house yet and soon enough, we're pulling up outside a very nice apartment complex. We thank the driver, Wyatt making sure I don't forget my purse before we stumble into the empty lobby towards the elevators.

The security guard behind the desk gives Wyatt a look as he presses the button for the elevator, sliding his hands into his pockets casually.

"What's his problem?" I ask lowly, stepping closer and Wyatt stifles a laugh.

"He disapproves of my nighttime activities." He says, voice also hushed.

"Oh," I peer over my shoulder at the guard who is still watching us with narrowed eyes. "He thinks I'm a girl you're bringing home."

"Well, technically speaking, you are," he says, and I nod, giggling. "But it's not like that."

"Right." I nod again, unable to help another train of giggles that spills out of my mouth as we step into the elevator and the doors slide smoothly shut behind us. He presses a button for the third floor, standing back against the elevator walls and I lean back too, gazing up at him.

I study his sharp jaw line, appreciating the way his hair falls against his forehead now, though most of it is still pushed back. I remember being an 8th grader then, when I'd realized Wyatt was growing into an attractive guy, with a killer smile and wit that I'd often laughed too hard at. Then I found myself finding every excuse to hang out with him and Ryder before I'd snapped out of it.

"You're staring." His voice interrupts my thoughts and I blink, realizing I was still looking up at him.

"Sorry." I blush instantly, ducking my head down as the elevator dings and we step out into an elegant hallway. I follow him to apartment 3A, watching as he puts in a door code on a high-tech lock before there's a pleasant click and he opens the door.

"Welcome," he grins, moving to the side so I can enter first. He flips a light on, adjusting the setting almost instantly so that a dim glow fills the apartment. I gaze around, almost in awe. It's an open floor plan, with a nice leather couch situated in front of a sleek coffee table. A large flatscreen TV on the wall adjacent. Then there's a kitchen, with modern finishing's and high bar stools in front of the large island separating it from a dining area. But the real thing that's making my jaw drop are the floor to ceiling windows wrapping around the entire apartment, giving us an incredible view of the Boulder night sky against what must be the looming shadows of the flat irons.

"Damn," I mutter. "This is fucking nice Wyatt."

"It's not bad," he shrugs, sliding his shoes off and moving past me to the kitchen, where he switches another light on. "You wanted a snack, right?"

"Yeah," I nod following him after I take off my heels too and I keep looking around, turning my head over my shoulder to an open doorway which must lead to his bedroom. I spot another open door closer to us which I'm assuming must lead to a powder room or something.

"Well," Wyatt opens a couple cabinets, and then closes them. "I don't have much food actually. What about," he pauses opening the fridge. "I just got some strawberries from Trader Joes."

"Oo," I nod, sliding onto one of the bar stools. "Sounds good."

"Alright," he grabs them, accidently knocking a water bottle out of the fridge and curses as he ducks down to get it. He turns, kicking the fridge shut and places the strawberries and water on the island. "Damn, I'm drunk too."

"Fucking tequila shots," I laugh, and he laughs too, dimples caving on his cheeks.

"That's not what you were saying about tequila last time," he teases, and I let out a breath, feeling my face heat again. I reach for the water bottle, cracking it open and taking a long sip.

"I—I uh, well, different circumstances." I stutter and he chuckles, eyeing me as he washes the strawberries and then goes rifling through the cabinets again, pulling out a large bowl.

"Here," he slides the bowl to me, and I reach for a strawberry, biting into it carefully and smiling. They're good strawberries, maybe I'm just drunk but I think it's the best strawberry I've had.

"Wow," I sigh. "These are nice."

"Agreed." He bites into another one, closing his eyes and nodding.

The next few moments pass in a comfortable silence as we enjoy our snack, I pass him the water bottle. I watch as he takes a long drink before setting it down and looking at me. His gaze feels more focused then, like it had at that party, and I feel my stomach flip.

"So," he leans across the counter, a bit closer now. "Good birthday?"

"Yeah," I nod, grinning. "Yeah, pretty good."

"I'm glad you let me celebrate with you," he says, and I giggle, sliding off the bar stool and moving to stand next to him. I don't know what compelled me to do so, but here I am, even closer now while his eyes darken, up my body slowly.

"Of course," I say gently. "Why wouldn't I let you? We are friends after all."

"Yeah," he nods. "Friends."

We stare at each other then, silence echoing around us again and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, my breathing shallower at our proximity. It's exactly like the other night, like he's seeing me for the first time and I'm seeing him too. His eyes are a bit hooded, moving between mine now and lower as he glances to my lips.

There's an awareness too that's never been there before. An awareness that we're alone together and anything we want is possible in this moment.

"Fuck." He curses and lets out a breath, his movements swift as his hands capture my face, my eyes widening as he pulls me towards him, ducking his head down and our lips meet.

It's instantly electric, my eyes closed as I memorize the feel of his own full lips against mine, and the sensation of it all makes my head spin. One of his hands eases its way around to cradle my neck, the other sliding around my waist.

I'm shocked at first, unable to respond until I let my hands move around his neck and pull my body against his. Then our lips mold together, moving like we both knew exactly what the other is thinking. He tastes like the strawberries we were just eating, a low groan echoing from his chest as I hold myself closer, flush against his chest, head titled back, letting him take and take as I do the same. 

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