Beneath Our Faults

"Baby," she said, suddenly, closing her eyes and taking a calming breath. "We were playing a game and I was calling Keegan out," she assured, her smile tight in an attempt to calm him down.

Lane grabbed the tequila bottle, bringing it to his lips and taking a giant swig. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he brought his arm back and heaved the bottle across the room. A loud crash and the sound of glass breaking vibrated through the room. "I've told you a million fucking times I never did shit with that fucking slut! A million! How many more times do I need to go over this same bullshit with you before you get it through that thick headed skull of yours, Cora? Huh? Do we need to break up again for you to realize that I would never do anything to hurt you!"

Okay, someone needed to calm monster Lane down. I looked at Cora then Keegan, both of them sitting there like lumps on a log. I kicked Keegan under the table and his eyes snapped my way. "Do something," I mouthed. He shook his head, looking away and ignoring my request. Asshole.

Lane's chest heaved in and out as sweat began to glisten around his hairline. The chair next to me slid against the marble floor and Cora stood next to him.

"Hey" she whispered gently, grabbing his shaking hands. "Stop." I waited for her to say more, but that was it. She just stood there looking at him. Wow, don't ever let Cora attempt to talk someone off the ledge.

"Fuck it.” Pulling her hands away from him like they were toxic, he broke away from her and stormed out of the room. Well, this trip had just done a complete one eighty. The room was restrained until a loud bang of the door slamming echoed from up the stairs.

"What the hell," Cora groaned. “I'm going to go check on him and make sure his drunkass doesn't do anything stupid.” She gave a quick wave over her shoulder and darted up the stairs.

"Why didn't you do anything?" I snapped, when Cora made it to Lane's bedroom and out of earshot.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not my circus, not my monkeys." He walked into the kitchen and opened a cabinet.

"Vodka?" He asked, lifting his eyebrows and strolling back to the table. He screwed off the cap, filled his glass to the rim with liquor and smiled at me from across the table.

The insides of my stomach flip-flopped at the mention of the word, like it remembered the last time I was in its presence. Fully aware I was going to regret it later, I grabbed the cold shot glass in front of me and drained the rest of the tequila. My eyes never left his face as understanding dawned and he gulped down his own shot.

"Lane gets crazy when it comes to Cora," he said, pointing out the obvious and filling his shot glass again. "When they had their little break or whatever the fuck they called it, Piper spread a shit ton of rumors acting like a pissed off child because he blew her off. One of them had something to do with some bullshit rumor that he had a threesome with her and some cheerleader skank. Complete bullshit. Everyone knows that shit isn't true, including Cora. She's just drunk and letting the alcohol get to her head." His arm reached across the table and grabbed my glass. "That girl is his fucking Achilles heel."

"Do you think they are going to be okay?" I asked, holding my arm out to grab the shot glass he filled back up. He sat down in Cora's abandoned chair.

My inebriated head began to spin lightly at our close proximity. When I took the shot glass from him, the touch of our hands caused my body heat to rise.

"They are going to be okay," he said, finally letting go of the glass so I could have it. "Those two shits are going to get married and have their two point five little hellions running around, causing chaos everywhere they go. It's scary to think I will be related to Cora someday," he shuddered.

"It's scarier to think there will be little Lanes someday," I added. I swiftly took the shot glass and leaned across the table for the bottle.

"Whoa there," Keegan chuckled, stopping me before my fun sized arms got to the bottle. "I think that might just be enough for you. I know from experience you don't handle alcohol that well. Plus, you don't want to feel like shit tomorrow."

“Awe man," I whined, setting my head down on the table. "When did you become so concerned with the well-beings of the female population?"

He frowned.

"I am so so sorry!" said, before he was the next person to throw a bottle across the room. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's cool," he said. "You're right. I don't give two shits about the majority of the chicks I hook up with but I do care about a few.” He leaned in closer to my chair, brushing his hand against my cheek. "I care about my aunt and Cora," he told me gently, sweeping the bangs that were covering my eyes. "And I do care about you."

Charity Ferrell's books