The Sweet Addiction Series Collection (Sweet Addiction #1-3)

“You two are fucking weird. And I don’t care if the other two groomsmen are gay, married, or pre-female to male transformation; I’m getting laid by someone.”


“Bitch, you better stay the hell away from Billy,” Joey says sternly. Juls quickly spins around and all arguments come to a halt at the sight of her beaming face. We all regain our composure and she’s none the wiser.

“Okay, baby, I love you, too. Have fun.” She hangs up her phone and hops off her stool. “All right, bitches, I believe it’s time for me to show your sorry asses up on the dance floor.” She does a quick spin and her black dress fans out around her knees.

“Ha!” I yell playfully as I get down and run over to her, putting her hand in mine. A clumsy Brooke follows while Joey quickly downs his beer.

“Let’s do this!” he yells.

We dance all night into the early morning hours, finally leaving Clancy’s at two a.m. and all piling into the same cab. None of us drove, which was a good thing because we are all rightly smashed and in zero condition to do anything but go to bed. We’re giggling like idiots in the backseat of the cab, throwing out our addresses and confusing the hell out of the driver.

“Christ, already. Who am I taking home first? I can’t understand four directions at once,” the driver yells back as we all fall into a fit of tearful chuckles.

“Brooke, oh, my fucking God. That guy you were dancing with looked like Mr. T.” I laugh and she searches her brain for the image. “He even had all the gold chains.”

“But he could move. Whew.”

“Yeah, he could. I’m pretty sure he had better moves than me, which says a whole fucking lot,” Joey adds as Juls wipes the tears under her eyes.

The driver spins around to face us. “Ladies. Oh, and gentleman, sorry. Where the hell am I going?”

“I’m closest. Dylan’s Sweet Tooth on Fayette please.” I fall back against Joey. “Oh, man, this was so fun. Juls, seriously, thanks for this.”

She winks at me as we pull away from the club. “So fun. I love you three. AND I’M GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!” We all laugh and cheer as we drive off down the road, the petty arguments of the night left behind along with Brooke’s vomit that came shortly after we started out onto the dance floor. I called it though. The girl should really not be around hard liquor.

I’m dropped off a mere fifteen minutes later and say my quick goodbyes before I stumble inside and lock up behind me. After peeling out of my dress and removing my makeup, I open my dresser drawer and spot the University of Chicago T-shirt that I had stuffed into my duffle bag when I was packing up my stuff the day I ended things with Reese. I should have sent it back to him through Ian when I realized I took it, but a part of me, a part of me that nobody knows about, likes wearing it to bed some nights when I want to smell him. I don’t wear it often for fear that my scent will overpower his. But I do decide on wearing it tonight. I slip it on and climb into bed, grabbing my phone and opening up my internet search.

While on the dance floor tonight, the Arctic Monkeys song pumped through the speakers and I let myself dance to it, not wanting to give away how badly it killed me to hear it. And as I moved my body to it, I remembered how I never looked up the lyrics and it’s been on my mind the entire evening. So now in the privacy of my dark bedroom, I’m finally looking up the lyrics to the song that reminded him of me.

“Oh, God.” I read the lyrics again, and again, letting them sink into me and cursing myself for even looking them up in the first place, and for the stupid club for playing this stupid song. “Fuck.” I shut down my phone and roll over, burying my head into the pillow to soften the cries that are coming from me now. Jesus, that song? Really? It’s a song about wanting to be with someone so badly, thinking about them all the time, wanting more with them. Dreaming about them. That song? How could that song remind him of me? I bury my face into his T-shirt and cry harder, trying to push the lyrics out of my head to give myself some relief. I inhale his scent, the scent that is slowly fading, and I finally calm myself down enough to fall asleep. And sleep I am definitely going to need if I’m going to survive the next forty-eight hours.