‹ Prequel: Your Love is my Drug
Sequel: Blah Blah Blah

Kiss and Tell


Walking into the party was tough. It seemed like only days ago I was at Patrick’s with Brent, hiding our relationship. Now, I felt like a stranger, walking into the house with Jonathan, wanting desperately to just cower away in a corner. He had a tight grip on my wrist, nearly dragging me through the doors.

I held out my palm, in which he placed his keys. I was deemed DD for the night, and I can honestly say that was probably the best choice. The last thing I needed to be doing was getting drunk again with these people. I think I’d put them under enough embarrassment for a year.

We walked into the living room, and I let my eyes drift to Brent and Lindsay in the corner, which I’d instantly regretted. I glared, and then forced my eyes to Sharpie, who Jonathan was chatting with. I stayed at his side, like a little girl locked to her daddy, afraid to move or interact with anyone else around.

After the drinks started to flow and the people started getting more laid back, I felt a little bit more relaxed. I was around drunks now, which was sometimes a lot easier than being around sober people, especially when they couldn’t care less about your presence anymore.

I sat down on the couch, by myself, and checked my phone. It was a comfort mechanism, I knew I wouldn’t have any messages or missed calls. I was alone, from this point on. I had nothing at home and nothing in Chicago, no one that wasn’t in this room with me. I looked up and sighed, Emma and Kris were standing next to Jonathan and some girl, who was really pretty, and they were in an animated conversation.

I felt fine, not being included. If he was getting set up, I’d merely be a cock block. She didn’t need to know that I was living with him, or that I was with him every day. That’d be enough to scare someone away. I needed to let him get out, let him find a girl to love him, and being with him every second was not going to give him any happiness.

I flipped through my contacts, as if I was texting and every so often glanced up at my surroundings. I let out a breath, seemingly getting bored of the environment, when I looked up to see just how drunk Jon was, but something else caught my eye:

The host.

I looked at him, standing there alone, picking up some bottles that had been left on the table. I watched as he opened his lips just a tad and let out a small breath. His hand went up to run his fingers through what was left of his mullet, before he felt my eyes on him and turned around.

I didn’t look away, not this time. I smiled as much as I possibly could; it was time to bury bridges. He didn’t exactly smile back, but he tried. Then, almost as quickly as it happened, it was done. He grabbed the rest of the bottles and made his way back into the kitchen where he’d come from.

My smile faded, and I watched the doorway with a weird emotion. I wanted to talk to him, as much as I believed I didn’t. I missed him in my life, the friend- not the affair. The way it was before we’d started our ‘relationship’. It was hard not having him in my life anymore and maybe, just maybe, this one was fixable. Brent wasn’t, I knew that, but perhaps Patrick could learn to forgive me if we talked about it.

I turned around again, and saw that Jon and the girl were now talking alone. Kris and Emma had vanished. She played with a piece of caramel coloured hair, which had fallen in front of her eyes, and nodded, as he smiled. Damn, Jonathan must see something in her. He moved closer, and I watched, wondering if he was going to kiss her. I was shocked when he reached forward and tucked that loose piece of hair behind her ear.

I couldn’t help but feel happy for him, he deserved it. All I knew was that she better not hurt him, because he didn’t deserve to be put through anything like that. I glanced at my phone, it was nearing two AM and I really didn’t want to be the last one here. People had started to disperse an hour ago, and the music had been turned down and you could hear Patrick cleaning up in the kitchen.

I watched Jonathan and truly didn’t want to interrupt. So, I decided to let him be and be brave, getting up and walking into the kitchen.

I stopped in the doorway, looking over his muscular frame as he placed the empties away.

“Do you need any help?”

He looked up at me, and for the first time in a long time, I got lost in his blue eyes.
♠ ♠ ♠
Well, progression!
I can tell you that I bet the next chapter will be your favourite so far!
Thank you guys once again for the continuous, amazing support!
I'm thinking of writing a TJ oshie story (since he's my new obsession) anyone want to co-write?

p.s :