Surviving Us (36 page)

Within minutes of Bristol’s and my little confrontation, where I knowingly said shit I shouldn’t have and did my typical dick act hoping I could make her feel a tiny sliver of the pain she was inflicting on me, Mo is up in my face, removing me from the group of people around me. His furrowed brow and piercing stare tell me he’s pissed too, but I’m not exactly sure why.
Friendly Mo no longer seems very friendly, and I’m suddenly very sober.

“What’s your problem, man?” I ask as soon as he releases my arms with a slight shove.

He looks around to make sure no one can hear our conversation before getting back in my face. “What’s
my
problem? Are you fucking kidding me? If you weren’t our only hope for having a winning season, I’d beat the shit out of you right fucking now for the way you just spoke to her, especially in front of all those other people!”

I rub my hands over my face in a brisk up and down motion, sighing loudly. “Mo, I appreciate your chivalrous notion, but you don’t understand. I’ve got history with that girl.”

His large hands clasp my shoulders roughly and he jerks me close so that he’s back in my face. “Fuck chivalry and fuck you,” he spits. “I know all about your
history
with Bristol, and had I known prior to an hour ago that you’re the guy she lies awake and cries about every damn night, there’s no way in hell I’d’ve been nice to you, much less brought you here today or asked you to crash at my place.”

Huh?
She cries over me every night?

I push him off with a scowl, my anger bleeding into irritated confusion. “What do you mean you know about me and Bristol? How do you know her?”

“My brother is dating her best friend and roommate, so the four of us hang out a lot, and she and I have become close recently.”

“Oh, so you’re fucking her too?” I scoff, pissed again.

The blow to the left side of my face happens so suddenly I can’t even brace myself for it. Stumbling backwards, I’m able to regain my footing before falling completely on my ass as the ringing in my ear, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, and the throbbing across my jaw ignite my adrenaline. In a blind rage, I charge back towards him, but am stopped as someone grabs me from behind.

“Fuck you! Let me go!” I demand, recognizing another guy from the team as I twist my neck around. “Now!”

“No can do, bro,” he says calmly, allowing Mo to approach me yet again.

This time, I prepare for the punch . . . but it never comes.

He leans in so close our foreheads are nearly touching, and growls, “First off, I would never fuck a girl who’s in love with another guy. Secondly, if you think that’s the kind of girl Bristol is, you don’t fucking deserve her.”

Lifting his eyes to the guy holding my arms, he tips his head, indicating for him to let me go, which he does. “Finally, you need to get your mouthy little ass in check and sit down to talk to her like a man, if she can even stand to look at you after your little charade today. And the next time my fist meets your face, I won’t hold back. You with me?”

I nod with complete understanding. Even though I just met this guy today, I somehow know every word he said is true. “Yeah, I’m with you.”

“Good.”

Mo turns around to walk away from me, but I stop him. “Wait!” I call out.

Looking back over his shoulder, he doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to say something.

“Take me to her. I want to apologize for today . . . for everything. She’s
the
reason I’m here.” I look like a complete pussy-whipped chump right now in front of these people, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve worked too hard to come back from the shell of a person I was before meeting her, all so I could do what I love and be
with
her.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea right no
—
” he begins, but I cut him off.

“Please,” I implore. “I’ve been waiting over six weeks to see her. I promise you I’m gonna make this right, man. Just let me talk to her.”

His expression relaxes and his shoulders slump as he beckons me over with a tip of his head. “Come on. You’ve got one shot.”

Ignoring the pounding in my head, I move swiftly to join him in his trek back towards the house. Neither of says a word the entire time. He’s probably still calming himself down while I’m trying to remember everything I had planned on saying to Bristol, knowing I better nail this apology the first time.

We enter the house through the backdoor, only to be immediately cut off by a curly-haired redhead.

“Why did you bring him
—oh my God, what did you do to his face?” Her first question to Mo abruptly altered the minute she gets a good look at me up close. “Follow me. You need some ice.”

I’m not up for arguing with anyone at this point, so I follow who I’m assuming is Bristol’s roommate over to the refrigerator. She finds a Ziploc bag, dumps a handful of ice from the freezer in it, and then wraps a paper towel around it.

“Here. Keep this on your face,” she instructs as she hands me the icepack, her lips pursing with disapproval. “By the way, I’m Alyvia, Bristol’s best friend. I would say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m pretty pissed off at you right now.”

“Thank you for the cold pack, and I completely understand. I’m Davis,” I reply sincerely. “Where is she? I need to tell her I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted today . . . and so much more. I swear to you it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait on that apology, ‘cause she’s passed out cold on the couch in there.” She points at an adjoining room through a doorway. “I was just about to come tell Mo we’re taking her home.”

“Why is she passed out? What happened?” I ask, not bothering to hide the alarm in my voice.

“Six shots of tequila in ten minutes when you barely weigh over a hundred pounds will do that to ya.” She shifts her attention to Mo, who is still standing by the backdoor. “Do you want to carry her to your truck and I’ll drive her car home? I rode with Lucky, and y’all can stay at our place tonight. I’m sure she’ll need some attending to when she finally comes to.”

“Dipshit here is with me too,” he grunts, glancing over at me. “He’s supposed to be staying at my place until they figure out his housing next week some time. Obviously, I had no idea
who
he was, other than the team’s new quarterback, when I offered.”

Alyvia cackles out loud, shaking her head. “Wow! Are you serious? This gets more and more bizarre by the minute.”

“I want to be there when she wakes up,” I pipe up.

“Unless you want matching black eyes, I’d highly discourage that,” Alyvia responds with a sharp shake of her head.

“I don’t care. I want to be there,” I insist. “I’ll help take care of her. Please, after all this . . . just give me a chance to work this out with her.”

She looks over my shoulder at Mo, then at me, and finally back to Mo. “Okay, that’s fine, but if she starts pummeling your ass, I’m not gonna help you. Mo, you take her home in your truck, and Davis can ride with me in B’s car. We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later.”

“Lyv, are you sure this is a good idea?” Mo asks tentatively.

I stand there silently, holding the ice to my face, while they work out the details. As long as I get to be where Bristol is, I don’t care where I sleep.

“No, I’m not,” she sighs, picking up her purse off the counter, “but I’m going with my gut. She needs us when she wakes up, and we can’t leave him alone looking like that. Now let’s go.”

Following their lead, we walk into the sparse living room area where a guy who resembles Mo sits guarding Bristol’s limp, sleeping body. I rush over to her, not caring what any of them thinks, and fall to my knees next to the couch, dropping the icepack to the floor.

Almost scared to touch her, I cautiously bring my hand up to lightly stroke her dark hair off her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Bristol,” I whisper ever-so-softly. “I’m gonna fix this. I promise.”

As I lean down to kiss her forehead, I notice she’s wearing the green and yellow necklace I gave her the night of our sailing adventure. A quick glimpse at her wrist confirms she’s got the bracelet on too, and my heart swells with joy.

I was right. We
did
share something special, and she hasn’t let go of it either.

ELEPHANTS ARE PARADING THROUGH
my head, a cat has taken a shit in my mouth, and a fire burns out of control in my belly. Waking up with a hangover is never fun, but I’m pretty sure this one takes the cake.

I slowly open my eyes and look around, assessing where I am and what day it is. The clock reads two-thirty, and outside my window is still pitch black, so I’m assuming it’s the early morning hours of Monday. Thank God today is a holiday.

Mo, and all six and a half feet of him, is snoring in a sleeping bag on my floor, which would be hilarious if I wasn’t afraid my head would explode while laughing. I’m not sure why in the world he’s not on the couch or in my bed, but I’ll figure that out later. First thing’s first. I need to use the bathroom, take some pain pills, and chug a gallon of water. Then I can try to recall the events of the previous day.

As quietly as I can to not wake Mo, I slide out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom attached to my room. Once I’ve emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet and brushed my teeth, I feel considerably better, despite what the hideous reflection in the mirror is telling me. Still wearing the same clothes, makeup, and hairstyle as yesterday, all in a state of disarray, I realize I must’ve passed out and was deposited in my bed without disruption. I need a shower in a bad way, but I need ibuprofen worse.

I slip out of the bathroom and make my way to the kitchen, still trying to stay as silent as possible, and I fumble around with the medicine bottle in the dark until I finally line the damn arrows up to pop the top off. Shaking three pills into the palm of my hand, I turn around to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, when a tall shadow looming in the darkness of the doorway catches my attention.

“Lucky?” I ask groggily, recognizing the frame is too thin to be Mo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Lucky?” a low, masculine voice I know all too well rasps as he takes a step towards me. “Lucky to have met you?” My heart skips a beat and I take a step backwards, retreating from the guy who owns my heart. “Yes. Lucky to have spent time with you?” Another step forward for Davis, another one back for me. “For sure. Lucky to know how funny that cute little mouth can be and how sexy every inch of your body is?” With the next set of steps, my back hits the wall, and I’m cornered with nowhere to go, my pulse now racing. “Absolutely.”