Make It A Double(14)
Gabby throws her arms around my neck and pulls me down for a tight hug, for about the third time this evening. She’s on her way to being truly drunk and while I’m pretty anti-alcohol in general, it’s nice to see her cut loose. Gabby is so serious and dedicated all the time, that she should be able to get wild every once in a while.
Besides, it’s nothing I need to worry about. Hunter has been nursing a single beer all night while he watches her with the eyes of a hawk. Nothing bad is going to happen to Gabby on his watch.
“Did I thank you for coming to my birthday party?” Gabby asks, her words having a slight slur to them.
Pulling away from her death grip, I awkwardly pat her on the shoulder. “Yup. This will be the third time in the past hour.”
“Well, I figure I better get my hugs in on you while I can. It’s just convenient for me to use the excuse that I’m drunk. Otherwise, I’d never have the guts to wrap you up in a hug.”
She gives me an ear-splitting grin, and her eyes sparkle mischievously. Yeah, she’s on her way to being trashed, but she still has her wits about her. She’s definitely using her inebriation to take advantage and work her way in past my standoffishness. That’s pretty fucking devious.
“Yeah, well, just make sure when you sober up tomorrow, we go back to the three-foot-space rule,” I tell her, half joking and half serious.
Gabby throws her head back and lets out a roar of a laugh, clutching at her belly. “Oh my God. Best birthday present ever. I got to hug on Brody, and he made a joke at his own expense.”
“What’s so funny?” Hunter asks as he walks up behind Gabby and wraps his arms around her waist, laying his chin on her shoulder. His eyes look up at me in question.
“Your girl is taking liberties with me, and I don’t like it,” I tell him, my gaze as inflexible as granite.
Hunter’s shoulders stiffen at my allegation, ready to step in and defend Gabby in all her drunken glory. My gaze flicks down to Gabby and she stares at me blankly for a moment, and then she snorts so loud I can hear it over the blaring music. She slaps at my chest, laughing hard, and says, “Shut up, you dork.”
As Hunter comes to the realization I was just joking, his eyes thaw past lukewarm and go all the way to glowing hot that I actually pushed past my sullenness for a change. He then gives me a smile, full of wonder and joy over the fact he got a small glimpse of someone other than the asshole Brody Markham that came out of Central Prison.
I make some more small talk with Gabby and Hunter for a while, finishing off my second bottled water for the evening. The party is in full swing and shows no signs of slowing. The people I care most about—Hunter, Casey, and Gabby—are all having a grand time and I’m assured they’ll make it home safely since Hunter is designated driver. Glancing at my watch, I see it’s only nine PM, but it’s way past time I get out of here. I’ve fulfilled my duty and while the evening hasn’t been totally painful, I’ve reached my fill of hanging out.
After saying my goodbyes, I reach in my pocket to pull out my car keys and start heading toward the door. Just as I step away from the bar and hit the short hall toward the front, I practically run over Alyssa as she comes out of the women’s bathroom. Her purse is over her shoulder, and she has her car keys in her hand as well.
Not gonna lie… I did my fair share of watching her tonight. She never approached me to talk, nor I her. But I did catch her glance at me a time or two. And I only know this because I was glancing at her a time or two, trying to figure her out.
It was not a hardship looking at her tonight. She showed up wearing a pair of dark jeans, designer by the looks of them. Certainly not the faded Levi’s that she had been wearing earlier today with a threadbare t-shirt. She had on a black halter-top, showing smooth skin, and a pair of black sandals, showing delicate feet with painted toenails. Very simple, yet she made it look elegant.
I notice for the first time that she doesn’t wear any other adornments. With her having hair so short, it sort of stands out that she doesn’t wear anything. No earrings, no necklaces, no bracelets. Hell, it doesn’t even look like she wears any makeup… maybe just some lip-gloss because her lips always look shiny, and yeah… kissable.
Shaking my head from such thoughts, I step back out of the way and give her room to walk before me, making a small, sweeping gesture with my hand and a nod of my head. She takes the lead, giving me a slight smile, and hitching her purse up higher over her shoulder as she precedes me.
I follow her to the front door, not quite able to help a glance or two down at her ass and the way it is perfectly encased in those jeans, not quite able to disregard the sway of her hips or the slope of her back with all of that skin showing. Fucking five years in prison, I’m going to notice these things, no matter how I feel about her otherwise.