I winced as Kerry slapped his head. I felt the thud. “Ladies?”
“Lady! Baby, you know there’s only you,” he said, and rubbed his head where she’d hit.
“Good. Love you, sweetie.” Kerry sat back in her seat and continued chatting to Oakley as if they had never stopped. Their relationship had changed slightly since Oakley’s reappearance in our lives: four years ago Kerry had to learn to read Oakley’s reactions and expressions, but now Oakley was talking more easily, neither of them shut up.
We parked in the club’s car park and made our way inside. Oakley slipped her hand in mine as we walked towards the bar.
“What do you want to drink then, little pisshead?” I whispered in her ear and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. She giggled and scanned the bar. I knew she wasn’t really a big drinker, so I think she was trying to read what all the bottles were.
“A shot of that blue stuff and a vodka and lemonade, please.”
“Are you getting drunk again?”
Oakley nodded and leant back against my chest.
Kerry pulled her away to find a table. “Shots all round, Cole,” Kerry shouted, waving her hand over her head.
“Cheers,” Ben said, raising his glass.
I downed mine and almost spat it back up. “Shit, that’s disgusting!”
Kerry shrugged. “I like it. I’ll get more.”
“I’m not going to be able to stand by the end of the night, am I?” Oakley said, sipping her vodka and lemonade.
“Not if Kerry has anything to do with it.”
I was right. After two shots and her vodka, Oakley was drunk. Kerry was tipsy but nowhere near as bad. Not drinking often definitely made her a lightweight.
“Hi guys. Sorry I’m late,” Chelsea said and sat down. She had some other guy with her who I vaguely remember seeing around Uni. “Brad, these are my friends, Cole, Oakley, Ben and Kerry. And guys, this is Brad.”
I reached across the table and shook his hand. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.” Brad looked at all the empty shot glasses on the table and grinned. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”
“Yes, you do. It’s my round.” Ben got up, grabbing the tray that we kept and made his way to the bar.
Oakley groaned. “I don’t wanna fall on my face.”
Chelsea laughed. “Not a big drinker?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Tomorrow is going to be hell.”
Another two shots and Oakley was plain wasted. She leant heavily on the table and laughed hysterically at everything.
“He’s so old now,” Kerry slurred. Her perfectly styled curly hair was messed up after dancing and stumbling around. “But still unbelievably gorgeous.”
They’d been discussing who was or wasn’t hot for the last half an hour. The thing that made my whole night was when Chelsea asked them who the hottest man alive was and Oakley’s eyes flicked to me for a second and I almost thought she’d sat me but that jokish glint in her eye gave her away. She said, before saying Ian Somerhalder. Chelsea said George Clooney and Kerry said Philip Glenister, which was just wrong.
“Dance with me?” Oakley asked, pulling at my hand while trying to stand up. I got out of my seat quickly to stop her falling flat on her arse.
I remembered the first time she ever tried alcohol, she was thirteen, and I had just turned fourteen. We were on holiday in Spain and our parents had gone out to dinner, leaving us kids at the hotel with room service. My dad’s half full bottle of Bourbon was sitting on the side, and Mia dared everyone to try it. Oakley coughed for about five minutes. She scrunched her nose up so much it looked like she had been sucking on a lemon. That was the first and last time she ever had whiskey.
I pulled her to a stop as we got to the dance floor and spun her around. “You okay?”
“Shh,” she whispered, pressing her finger over my lips. She had been driving me crazy all night and I don’t even think she realised it. I was trying to be a gentleman and letting her figure out what she wanted between us but that was getting harder to do.
“You’re being naughty,” I scolded her playfully.
“I think I’m a bit drunk,” she said, rubbing her forehead.
“You think!” I laughed as she nodded. “I didn’t think you could drink, but you can sure put it away.”
“You’re a bad influence, Cole.”
“Oh, so this is my fault?”
“Yep.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. Our lips were just inches apart. I groaned as she stared into my eyes. She wanted us to kiss, and so did I. I wanted that more than anything in the world, but I didn’t want it to be while she was off her face.
I pulled away slightly and felt like crap when she pouted.
“Not when you’re drunk,” I whispered, stroking her hair behind her ear. Nodding again, she laid her head on my shoulder. I hate myself!