We drink until I can barely feel my tongue, then Royal cuts me off. With a wink she says, “Jay won’t ever forgive me if you get too drunk on my watch.”
My head is heavy, and my neck feels like rubber. Claire and Bailey fall into a conversation about their respective teaching positions at different private schools while Rae listens patiently. Royal and I move to the sofa with the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, abandoning any pretense of doing shots and graduating to drinking straight from the bottle. Not that she allows me much time with it. I don’t want to get too drunk to have sex or anything, but the more I drink the less nervous I am about having said sex, and thus drinking more is attractive at this moment even if I know it’s going to bite me in the ass later.
“Sometimes,” Royal says with a slight slur. Her head is resting on the back cushions of the couch, and she’s intently watching the ceiling fan above us as it whips around in high-speed circles. I look up and turn away quickly before I get sick. Yeah, no more whiskey for me. If I fill up on too much whiskey now, I won’t be able to fill up on Jameson later. “Sometimes,” she says again, “I want to ride the fire pole for fun.”
Laughter bubbles in my chest and escapes in a loud ruckus. I can’t help the contagious giggles that take over. I imagine myself wrapped around the fire pole as I dance saucily for Jameson. In my mind, I wrap a leg firmly around the pole and move to propel myself around in a circle but end up falling off. Even my imagination can’t make me sexy enough to seduce him. Christ, I’m hopeless.
“I’m in love with your brother,” I say without thinking about it. She already knows, but it feels so real when I say it aloud. I wanted to tell her before, I really did, but there was always a reason not to. Mainly to keep my heart from breaking just a little bit more. But I’ve drunk so much that I can’t bring myself to care how stupidly in love I sound. I want him, and I love him, and it’s all so clear. He’s here somewhere, and I want him. Not just for tonight but for every night after this as well. This started with a slow dance in a men’s room in a pretty dress, but I never want it to end.
Royal laughs and then sucks in a breath. Awkwardly, she pulls herself up from her slouched position and hangs on to the back cushion like it’s a life preserver. Pushing her dark hair away from her face, she stares down at me with the most serious drunk face I’ve ever seen. At least one of her looks serious. The other one that won’t stop moving looks a little green around the gills.
“Good. Because he really loves you, too,” she says through a hiccup that almost turns into something way more disgusting.
Clutching the bottle to my chest, I hold it tightly like it’s my heart and I’m trying to protect it from those who seek to empty it.
“He’s gorgeous,” I say with a strained breath. I’ve always been a bit of a crier when I drink, but I can’t literally cry to Jameson’s sister while admitting my obsession. That’s a bit too dramatic, even for me. “And like, he’s funny and such a good friend. And holy crap is he an amazing kisser.”
She nods with narrowed brows and a concentrated expression on her face.
“You need to marry him,” she says. With clumsy movements she reaches over and pries the bottle from my hands and takes a swig of it. “You’re it for him, Mel.”
Like I can argue.
Like I’m not trying to telepathically signal my mom to corral Janet and start planning our impending nuptials.
That Jameson doesn’t know we’re having, but we so are.
“He’s it for me, too,” I say.
“We can be sisters,” she says and takes another drink before setting the bottle on the coffee table and crawling off the sofa.
“You drank too much!” I scream as she disappears down the hall and for the bathroom. The room starts to spin, and I realize that maybe I have no room to talk. “Oh hell.”
“I should never leave you alone,” Jameson says. I look around to see where he’s standing and find that he’s behind me, on the other side of the back of the couch.
“No,” I say. “You shouldn’t. I don’t like it.” He shouldn’t leave me alone. Ever. His blue eyes practically twinkle with the amusement he finds in my current condition. Despite the softness I find there, I sense a slight disappointment as well. Walking around the couch, he comes around and plops down next to me. Everything is half-blurry and half-in-motion even though I know the TV that’s mounted on the wall is in fact not moving around. I can’t even deal with how drunk I am right now. It’s ridiculous.
“You look a little green around the gills, Lulu,” he says and pulls me into his side. I love it when he calls me that. It’s special because it’s mine. It’s the one thing I have from him that I don’t have to share with anyone—something Lydia never had. Everything is perfect here. If only for a minute, it’s perfect.
“I can still have all the sex,” I say, and my eyes fall close. The last thing I hear is his laughter fading away.
Chapter 20