But with the thought of leaving in less than forty-eight hours looming over me, leaving Lia sounded like the worst fucking idea imaginable, and now drinking just made my emotions for her even that much more intense.
I lifted my hand and ran it over my jaw, trying to look at Lia inconspicuously.
I’d first felt a tingling of awareness about my feelings for her back in high school, but I pushed them away, burying them deep because our personal lives had been so up in the air. Both of us had been struggling in different ways—what with her mother hardly home because she worked so much, and the relationship between me and my parents becoming unbearable.
I hadn’t wanted to add more confusion and conflict to the mixture.
But then as the years passed, I felt those feelings start to push their way to the surface once more, becoming stronger. I grew jealous of any attention a guy gave her. It was when I saw guys look at her, I became enraged if they thought they had the right to speak to her. It was a good thing she never dated—at least not that I ever knew about—because the jealousy would’ve been so monumental it would have sucked the life right out of me. That, and I would have hurt the bastards.
And that’s when I knew that what I felt for her wasn’t fleeting. It was so deep inside of me, another entity so strong that it rivaled my own consciousness. There was no going away from it, no dodging it, no trying to push it back down. It just kept growing until it consumed me, until the only thing I could think about was making a life for myself because then I could show Lia what I had to offer her.
Keeping my focus on her, I watched as she brought the shot glass to her lips and tossed it back, a drop of amber colored liquor sliding down her bottom lip. I felt my eyelids lower as heat cooked deep in my body. She dragged that perfect pink tongue out and ran it over the droplet, and I heard this low growl leave me. Thank fuck whatever scene was playing drowned out the primal noise.
She reached across the table and grabbed a length of red licorice, and fuck me I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of her eating it. She was so engrossed in the movie that it made watching her easy because I didn’t have to even try to hide my reaction.
Increased breathing.
Body tight.
Muscles clenched.
Cock so fucking hard the length ached something fierce.
I was vaguely aware of parting my lips, the image of Lia having her lips wrapped around something else that was long and hard. Another groan ripped from me, and this time the movie didn’t muffle the sound. She glanced at me and lowered her brows, the red licorice still in her mouth. She slowly slid it out, her lips perfectly formed around it.
Jesus Christ.
I was pretty sure I came a little in my jeans at the sight alone.
“You okay?” Her brows were still low as a look of concern crossed her face. “You getting sick? Is that why you made that sound?”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was buzzed really hardcore, and I knew even if I stopped drinking right now, the amount of booze I’d consumed would keep rising in my bloodstream until I was slurring like an asshole.
And all I could do was stare at Lia during this whole inner monologue, knowing that I was about to open my mouth and insert my foot right in there.
3
Lia
I felt his eyes on me, had for a while now, but I’d kept stuffing my face with licorice--the red kind cause the black kind tasted like medicinal shit to me--and trying to act like I was watching the movie plastered across the TV screen. But I didn’t want to look over at him because I was feeling loosey-goosey, you know, the kind that was caused by alcohol. It was the kind that made you think that “hey, why not just tell your best friend you’re in love with him”, ‘cause now seemed like the perfect time. Not to mention I was hot, that being this close to him had me very aware that he was all male and I was all female.
I swallowed and promptly started to choke on a piece of licorice, my eyes watering. I reached for the drink closest to me, which wasn’t water, but more alcohol… and that in turn had me coughing even more.
Once I had my composure, I wiped the tears under my eyes and exhaled. Then I went back to trying to act like he wasn’t still staring at me. I grabbed a piece of licorice and slipped it between my lips, tasting the artificial cherry flavor and idly thinking who came up with creating these fake flavors and trying to pass them off as cherry, strawberry, or even grape. Not to mention the blue raspberry flavor.