Dawn stared at the table, then stared at the glass in her hand, then back at the table. She lifted the glass, took aim, and missed completely, tumbling out of her chair and to the floor with a heavy thud.
The bar exploded in cheers. Money changed hands above my head as Bill announced, "Twelve shots! Ivy wins!" He gathered up the remaining drinks for himself and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
The bar felt like a washing machine - too hot, and spinning, and I was damp with sweat. I mumbled something and stood, using Bill's am to support myself as I rose. Mistake. I could barely register anything I saw in front of my face.
I made my stumbling way to the front door, shrugging off the shoulder claps and back slaps as best I could. The crowd let me pass through easily. Probably they thought I was about to puke.
I body-slammed the door open and teetered onto the porch. Thinking fuck the gravel, I kicked off my heels and weaved my way out into the parking lot. The night air felt glorious on my overheated skin. I threw my hands up in the air and waved them to a tune that only I could hear.
The song in my head was interrupted by a loud, echoing BANG. Gunshots? Was that a gunshot? My arms dropped to my sides and I froze. What do I do. Another shot rang out, and then another. I duck? I slowly lowered myself to the ground, right there in the open air in the middle of the path through the parking lot, and calmly placed my hands over my head. There. Safe.
Then all hell broke loose. A barrage of gunshots came from both directions. I thought I heard someone call my name, but I couldn't hear over the chaos. Booted feet went pounding past me, around me. I just lay there, ignored, figuring maybe no one could see me at all. Good. Good job. I'm not so drunk.
Strong hands grabbed my shoulders and rolled me onto my back. "Ivy! Shit, are you hurt?" The owner of the voice brushed the gravel off my face that I couldn’t even feel.
I looked up into a pair of the deepest brown eyes I'd ever seen. Wait. I've seen them. "Theo." I giggled. "You smell good." He did - like all sorts of manly things. I wanted to bury my face in his neck.
He glowered. "What were you doing out here alone?" The gunshots had stopped. Some motorcycles revved and took off into the night. He cursed again. "We've got to get you inside. Ready?" The world spun in all directions. I lost my basic sense of gravity as he lifted me over his shoulder and carried me back inside the bar.
The place was chaos. The bikes were all gone, and the rest of the patrons were ducking beneath the tables.
"All's clear," Theo said to the frightened crowd, "Give the guys another twenty minutes to chase 'em out and then head on home."
Then he carried me to his room. My heart did a little backflip of glee - but my drunk brain shorted out.
I woke up in a warm bed as the sun just started to peek over the horizon. Where am I? I felt hungover, but not nearly as bad as I should have. I turned and realized I wasn't alone - Theo was in the bed next to me, wearing only his dusty jeans.
Memories came back in bits and pieces. Theo depositing me in his bathtub with a big bottle of water and some advil, making me take them and drink while he was on his phone. He said something and rushed out.
Theo returning, tired and dirty. A little blood on his shirt. Lifting me up and making me drink more water before he would let me get in the bed. Mortified, I realized I'd tried to kiss him but only managed to fall over and bang my elbow. It still smarted.
I remembered when he finally allowed me out of the tub. By some miracle I hadn't gotten sick. Though I was still stupid drunk, the room didn't look like it was tumbling around me anymore, so he let me pass out on the bed.
Realizing what woke me up, I rushed to the toilet. Too much whiskey and too much water threatened to burst my bladder. Goddamn, I should have brought a stopwatch, this pee could break records.
Finally drained, I searched his cupboard and found some mouthwash. I couldn't remember smoking but my mouth tasted like an ashtray.
Oh wait, I did smoke. I shared a few with Irish while the rest of the club was away. When their motorcycles roared in the distance, I scrambled back into the bathtub, brushing my hair with my fingers and assuring myself that I looked sexy. No more whiskey. Ever.
I found some mouthwash and took a quick gargle before heading back to the bed. Do I just get back in? Or would he want me to leave? I felt too out of it to think about driving, still, so moving as carefully as I could, I crawled back up to the pillows. I had to flip them over - I'd left an epic drool spot that he didn't need to see. I've done enough already, poor guy.
I peered up at his face. He was awake and looking right at me. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He grunted. "You're staring at me."