My Baby, My Darling.

"And that's why I think some time apart would do us some good." His eyes moved down to stare at his glass of Dr. Pepper. I blinked, pausing to take in the words that just left his mouth.

"You need some...time?” I spoke slowly, trying to hide the evident irritation in my voice as a sorry excuse of the male species sat across from me in the booth.

I cleared my throat, “Time for what, exactly?”

He gulped and averted his eyes from my own, "Well, to do things, you know? Think about us, spend time with other people. Just to do things, you know? It’s not that I don’t, you know, love you. It’s just, I need time to think.”

I couldn’t help the scoff that escaped past my lips. That was his give away. ‘You know?’ I could always tell he was lying when he inserted that phrase into his sentences. It’s like he didn’t have the will power to turn it off, to think about comprehensible words before opening his mouth.

He looked at me, confused as to why I was staring at him incredulously. I blinked, taking a moment to examine the guilt that flashed across his features as I attempted to formulate the right words to say to him without exploding into a series of insults. After staring at him for a few moments, clenching my jaw in a failed attempt to steady my breathing, no polite words came to mind. It was when he cleared his throat and gave me an expecting look to say something, anything. That is the precise moment that I blew up.

"You know what, Brian." I started, shaking my head slowly as my eyes rose to look at the ceiling. "Fuck that. No, fuck you. No, even better, fuck all the sluts you will most likely call up once I leave this diner. And, by the way, I have no doubt in my mind that you will do just that.”

“What,” his mouth opened and closed, as he stuttered to find the right words. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not going to call- who am I going to call?”

“Look,” I rolled my eyes, a deep breath escaping past my lips, “I’m not an idiot. Let's just face it, the only reason you're asking for this break is so you can quickly get rid of the burning desire in your pants without any consequences from me. So for the sake of the ego that's taking up half of this room, I'm going to spare you the guilty conscience that you are so afraid of and the pedestal that everyone seems put you on. I'm just going to call this what it is. You don't need to worry about a fucking penalty for getting caught cheating on me with someone else because there is no longer an us to cheat on. Enjoy your promiscuity and STDs, asshole." I spat, snatching my purse from the table and pushing myself out of the booth.

After I pushed past the front door of Peggy’s Diner, I could hear his footsteps as he chased after me.

"Chelsea, wait!"

I was a few feet away from my car when he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing the undeniable guilt plastered onto his face as he struggled to find the right words to tell me make me change my mind about leaving.

"There's really no need to blow this out of proportion." He smiled hesitantly, rubbing my bare arms as if to console me. I always hated that, how he felt the need to rub my arms to console me, when I clearly did not need his consolation. It was his way of further degrading my “silly” emotions to make himself seem like the knight in shining armor.

I glared, pulling myself out of his grasp as I continued in a backward trek toward my car. "Don’t insult me, Brian. We both know what you did.”

"Darling," he scrambled to grab my arm again, "you don't know what you're-"

I pushed his hand away and moved to open the door of my truck. The door slammed into his shoulder as I climbed into my seat. He started another rant about how I was wrong and that he had no idea what I was talking about, but most of it was muffled by the roaring of my engine as I turned my key in the ignition.

“Save it.” I said, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. I shook my head as I turned to meet his eyes. "Don’t you think I know about Jenna? I know that you two have been sneaking around. I’ve known for a while now. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. I don’t know, for some reason, in the back of my mind I thought you’d at least have the decency to tell me. What’s funny is that I should be used to this by now, people lying to me, treating me like shit. I guess I’m not, because every time hurts just as much as the last.”

I tried to hide the pain in my eyes as he stared off at the road behind my truck, clenching his jaw as realization dawned on him that he had no way to talk himself out of this one like all the other times he tried making excuses about rumors floating around concerning his promiscuity. The bastard was caught, and he hated it.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked him sincerely, trying to meet his eyes and failing miserably because his gaze only dropped to the ground in defeat, his hands running over the back of his neck.

His brown eyes finally moved up to meet mine and I struggled to find any remorse within the man I had been dating for the past four months. However, all I found was a deer in the headlights. His mouth opened and closed like a fish put out of water, trying to find some sort of explanation but coming up with nothing.

"You know,” I laughed, staring straight ahead. “I’m really not going to miss you at all. But boy oh boy will I miss, you know, conversations like these. You know, the ones were you suddenly forget how to form any hint of a fucking, you know, proper sentence.” I angrily slammed my door shut and sped out of the parking lot, onto the main road and left my cheating ex-boyfriend in the rearview mirror, choking on the dust I left behind as I drove away.

---

"What an asshole.”

I pulled open my fridge and reached for the package of raw bacon, holding the phone in between my cheek and my shoulder. “Yeah.”

"You wanna know something, I never liked him all that much.” Gabe, said into the phone, the sound of running water in the background. “I don’t know, maybe it was the overwhelming scent of axe he left behind in every room that’s clouding my judgement. But something was always wrong with that fucker. I mean, what an asshole.”

I scoffed, putting the phone onto the counter and putting it on speaker. "Yeah, that's what I told him, multiple times, actually. Along with many other words you know I'm never proud to say."

Laughter erupted from the other end of the phone, "Are you serious? Chelsea and curse words. Is this real life?”

I hinted the sarcasm in his tone and rolled my eyes I flipped the sizzling bacon in the frying pan. “Har, har. Hey, you know what? How about you stop being such a little bitch, alright Junior?”

"Which only proves my point further.” he laughed. "And quit it with the Junior stuff. It’s not funny anymore.”

"It's not my fault Aunt Sonia decided to name you after your dad! It's out of my control. And you would think that you'd be used to it by now since I've been calling you that name since we could talk.”

"I stopped calling you CheChe when we were seven. Now, you quit it with that Junior shit or I’ll bring your nickname back.”

I let out a laugh, "That is a goddamn lie. You call me ZoZo all the time when you're drunk."

"Well now, unfortunate for you, I have no control over what comes out of my mouth when intoxicated." He admitted. "Which reminds me, you should come out with me and Trav tonight.”

“No.” I know what that means. It means they’ll take me to a party and suddenly disappear and when they finally meet back up with me, they’ll be too drunk to function and I’ll have to drive home.

“Oh come on.” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes on the other end. “What’s the alternative, you’re gonna have breakfast for dinner and watch Friends re-runs?”

I glanced over at the TV in the living room that was now showing Phoebe playing her guitar to a room full of toddlers. “Quit acting like you know shit.”

He scoffed, "Save it. You’re coming with me and Travis to a party tonight. Hot babes, good music, much-needed alcohol for your predicament. Get out of the house, cat lady! You keep yourself locked up every time there's a party."

"No." I pried pieces of bacon off the frying pan and placed it onto a nearby plate. "I'm already eating dinner, Junior. I'm fine. And please stop using the words 'hot babes'. I still gag at the thought of you getting with those skimpy girls at your parties. Plus, you know those things aren’t my scene.”

"What isn’t your scene?" Nicole suddenly emerged from around the corner and I narrowed my eyes at her. I know she’s my best friend and all but, I gave her that key for emergencies. She isn’t supposed to use it to just barge into my parent’s house unannounced.

“Shit!” I heard Gabe drop the phone and struggle for a few minutes before bringing it back up to his ear. "Was that Nicole? Bring her along, Chels! We could always use a hottie like her.”

I winced as he continued to yell absurdities about how hot Nicole was. She raised her eyebrows, silently asking who was on the phone as she took a swig of the carton of orange juice on the counter.

"Gabe's trying to invite us to a party tonight. But I already made breakfast for dinner. And after what happened today, I was just going to stay in and…”

But I was too late. Nicole had already snatched the phone from my hand and was now talking to Gabe, assuring him that we’d be ready by the time he got here. She rolled her eyes and smiled as he probably used every line in the book just to keep her on the phone longer. She pulled the phone away from her ear and I could hear Gabe making a raucous on the other end. She hung up and placed the phone back into my hand.

I opened my mouth to start with the list of objections and excuses I always came up with to get myself out of going with her to parties.

"Don't even try. Your parents are in New York this weekend! You should be going out like a normal 19-year-old. And I won't let you say no. I’m trying to help you. You need to get over that scumbag, whatever the hell his name is. Now come on," She reached past me and turned off the stove before grabbing my arm and pulling me upstairs. “Let me make you into the fine piece of ass that you are so that we can find your rebound.”

"Do not burn me. I swear to God, Nik. If you burn me I will drop kick you in the ovaries." I watched Nicole wrap another section of my hair around a curling iron. Might I add, holding it dangerously close to my cheek.

"Will you chill out? Seeing you anxious makes me anxious." She pursed her lips in concentration, sending me an apologetic look. "And that only happened one time. Plus, it was so long ago I'm surprised you even remember."

I let out a breath of air and slumped my shoulders. “One time was enough to know I never wanted it to happen again.”

I glanced sideways at the mirror and couldn't help the look of shock that crossed my face. Leave it to Nicole to know how to make me look like an entirely different, more attractive version of myself. My now curled, dark hair was parted down the middle and cascaded down my back in loose waves, stopping just above my waist. I was dressed in the only outfit that I deemed modest enough to wear, a black corset-like crop top and tight, dark skinny jeans that Nicole claims “makes my ass look heaven-sent.” I know that most girls at this party wouldn't nearly cover up this much. I had to fight her just to let me wear jeans. But, I had to give her credit, I looked hot. Even though she’s been doing this for me for years now, it still feels like an extreme makeover every time.

We met in elementary school, when I first moved to the suburbs of New Haven. Her energy and aesthetic appeal alone is what caused everyone to gravitate towards her. She was fearless, always standing up for those who were picked on and never caring about the rumors that people tried to spread about her. She was the first friend I made when I moved here, not caring that I preferred to sit by myself and draw alone during recess. She pestered me everyday, always curious to know what I was drawing and asked me questions incessantly. Eventually, after I realized I could not, no matter what I did, shake her off of me, we became friends. And we've been friends ever since. Now that we're nineteen and graduated from high school, she is pretty much the only real friend that I have. She’s without a doubt the socialite of the pair, whereas I was always the more sarcastic, blunt one. No doubt, guys were always more attracted to her and her curves, which paired alongside her rambunctious personality, made her hard to resist. The fact that we were always together made it hard to figure out if people associated with me to get close to her or because they wanted me. It was just something I had to deal with over time, and part of the reason I’ve built my walls so high.

“Almost done,” she muttered as she unplugged the curling iron. Her painted fingernails rummaged through her makeup bag, pulling out a small bottle of perfume. Nicole loved perfume, and used it extensively sometimes, to the point that it made me lightheaded to be within a 10 feet radius of her. She sprayed all around herself and then she unleashed her potent fury on me, causing me to hold my breath and wince in fear that I’d get perfume in my mouth like so many times before.

Gabe's voice echoed from the downstairs foyer. "Party bus is leaving in approximately 3.9 minutes, ladies. Now move your asses on down here.”

I could literally hear him skipping with excitement.

As we made our way downstairs, I overheard him laughing at something Travis was saying. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Travis and I briefly made eye contact and he smiled, nodding his head to greet me.

I’ve known Travis since high school. He and Gabe became good friends early on and they both kind of watched over me while I was growing up. In my eyes, Travis was like a quiet protector. Whenever we’d all go to a party and there was a lot of people, Travis would always check in on me and make sure I was okay because most of the time, Gabe would be too drunk to know his own name. But the thing about Travis was that he was always selective with his words, never speaking unless he felt that what he had to say was important. I admired that about him, the way he knew when it was absolutely necessary to speak as opposed to the rest of the world who spit out void comments like word vomit. It was refreshing to know that he was there, looking out for me when no one else could.

I observed that the guys had also put noticeable care into their appearances. Although they were dressed pretty normal in band tees and button-ups, they smelled clean with a hint of their familiar colognes.

I leaned against the banister to slip on my nude heels and did a last make up check in the mirror by the door alongside Nikki.

"You’re looking good, Nicole." I heard Gabe smirk from behind me and I rolled my eyes.

She laughed and spun around sending him a wink, "Not so bad yourself, Junior." The smirk instantaneously dropped from his face as his gaze landed on me and he sent daggers.

I bit back a laugh. Gabe hated to be called by his childhood nickname, especially by Nicole. He swears that it kills his “ladykiller” rep.

"Gabe, stop hitting on my friends. It’s sick." I made a gagging noise as I grabbed my purse from the table beside the door and slung it over my shoulders.

I turned my attention to Travis, locking eyes with his tired expression. "Travis, long time no see."

He grinned from his stoic stance, his arms crossed over his chest, "Hi, Chelsea."

That's as far as the conversation would go between us two because Nicole grabbed my arm before I had any say in the matter, pulling me out the door as Gabe and Travis followed closely behind.

The party was already in full swing by the time we pulled onto the impeccably green lawn of the mansion that looked to already be holding nearly a couple hundred people. We separated into two groups immediately as we stepped through the door. I watched as Travis and Gabe branched off to meet up with a few girls that were calling them over to the dining table where a heated game of beer pong was underway.

I felt Nicole’s hand squeeze my shoulder as she knelt down to speak into my ear so that I could hear her over the music. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Meet me in the kitchen in a little bit. Make sure you scope out the place for any hottie potatties.”

I spun around to give her a snarky comeback about how I’m not here to get a rebound but she had already disappeared. I scanned the room, and even that proved difficult because drunken, sweaty bodies rammed into me every two seconds. My gaze landed on a door at the end of the hallway and I watched it open, revealing what looked to be a kitchen. I moved through the crowd, keeping my eyes fixed on the big white door swinging open and closed. When I was about 10 feet away, a couple stumbled out of a nearby door and pushed against my small frame. I stepped aside to move out of the way. Somehow, I ended up tripping over someone’s foot in the process and falling face first onto the floor. It must have been pretty loud in there, because no one even noticed my self-destruction show that I had just taken place in front of them. Either that or they were too drunk to notice. My hair was plastered to the front of my face and I paused, taking a moment to contemplate every decision I’ve ever made in life that led me up to this point. It came to a point where people were already stepping over me, not even paying attention to the fact that some random girl was on all fours in the middle of a hallway. I moved to sit on my butt and pushed my back up against the wall, readying myself to stand.

"Here, allow me, beautiful." a deep voice sounded from beside me and the faint scent of an unfamiliar, minty cologne filled my senses. I felt a pair of cold fingers graze across my cheek and brush back the strands of hair in front of my face, tucking them behind my ear.

I knitted my eyebrows in confusion and slapped the hand away, realizing this guy’s complete lack of personal space. Who just touches a complete stranger's face like that? My gaze quickly snapped to meet the eyes of a man crouched beside me against the wall. His face wasn’t even two inches away from mine and I reeled back, surprised that a stranger would feel comfortable enough to invade my space like that. An amused smirk made its way onto his face as he took in my expression. I was right, this creep really does have no regard for personal space.

"Hi there," he smiled, still crouched down at eye level. His elbows rested on his knees and the bottleneck of a beer rested in his right hand. He furrowed his eyebrows, taking in my irritated expression.

I sent him a glare and raised an eyebrow at his confident demeanor. "Hello, man that clearly has no regard for a personal bubble.”

He raised an eyebrow in shock of my biting remark and shrugged before standing up so that I was now eye level with his crotch. This was most definitely not a step up.

I rolled my eyes and pushed myself to my feet, immediately regretting the action as I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. I hissed, shifting my weight to my other foot. I steadied myself and looked up only to find the same guy standing right in front of me again. I arched an eyebrow, staring a few inches up to meet his face. "Is there a problem?”

He eyed my ankle, his arms hovering over me as if I could topple over at any moment. “I think that question applies more to you than it does to me. Is your ankle okay?”

I rolled my eyes and spun on my good heel, immediately feeling the same pain shoot through my right ankle. I winced slightly and proceeded to take slow steps toward the kitchen door, practically limping.

"I'm Dexter McHale by the way." I heard him now from beside me, matching my slow steps. He held his hand extended out to me, waiting for me to shake it.

"Splendid." I muttered, ignoring his extended hand and trying desperately to ignore the shooting pain in my ankle. I continued toward the kitchen door, dodging all the stumbling drunkards in the process.

He probably did not hear my lack of interest, or maybe he just didn't care. Regardless, he continued to talk.

"You know, you should probably put some ice on that." He yelled over the music, a look of concern crossing his face as he looked down at my swelling ankle.

I ignored his advice and pushed the swinging door to the kitchen, limping over to the coolers. I attempted to bend over and reach for the lid, only to be beaten to it by the same, annoying soul that would not leave me alone. Could this guy not take a hint?

He reached into the cooler and grabbed a huge chunk of ice before quickly reaching into a nearby drawer and pulling out a dish towel. He wrapped the ice in the towel and handed the sack to me, a concerned look on his face. I blinked at his extended hand, furrowing my eyebrows.

Hesitantly, I grabbed it and hoisted myself onto the nearest kitchen counter. I propped my ankle onto my left knee and applied the ice, immediately feeling the cold, numbing sensation ease the pain. I looked up and low and behold, he was still standing there, staring intently at my reaction. He didn’t look away when I caught him staring. Instead, he calmly opened his mouth to speak.

I know his mouth was moving and words were coming out, but I couldn't hear him over the blaring music. As he went on talking, I took a moment to really look at him. He was about 6 feet tall with short wavy hair atop his head. His grey orbs focused on me as he spoke, a concentrated look in his eyes as if he were thinking extensively about something. My eyes glanced down to examine his outfit. He was wearing a navy flannel with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his fairly muscular forearms. I had to admit, he was gorgeous. I found myself scanning his body and when my eyes settled back on his face, he held a questioning expression. Shit, did he ask me something?

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to recall what he just said. "What did you say?"

An amused smirk played across his features as his gaze dropped to the floor. He knows I was checking him out. And based on his reaction, his arrogant ass was going to milk the situation for all it was worth. He cleared his throat and arched his eyebrow and before I knew it, he was closing the distance between us. Just when I thought he couldn’t move any closer, his hands moved to rest on both sides of me on the counter. He leaned forward so that he was merely inches away from my face, his cologne immediately filling my sense. I watched his mouth move dangerously close to my own and I tensed before he redirected his face so that his thin lips were next to my ear.

I heard him laugh lightly at my reaction to his close proximity and his even breathing against my neck sent shivers down my spine. I would reprimand myself repeatedly for even remotely being affected this way by a guy I had only just met.

"Based on the fact that you're not writhing in pain right now," he brushed strands of hair behind my ear, grazing my cheek in the process as his deep voice continued, "I can tell that your ankle isn't broken or fractured. It's just sprained. And there’s going to be a little bit of swelling for a few days, but you should be fine.”

How did such an unattractive statement like that sound like heaven coming out of is mouth? Honestly, his voice alone was turning me on. And it didn’t help that I was suddenly very much aware of how close his body was to my own. He really did smell like mint, mixed with something else. It was after a moment that I realized it was indeed beer.

He leaned away so that his face was once again a few inches away from my own. His warm breath tickled my face and I could have sworn that my insides tingled at the sensation. Our eyes locked as he sent me a knowing grin, another smirk forming on his features. I was paralyzed, and he knew it. His eyes quickly glanced down at my lips and traveled back up to meet my eyes. I knew that he was so sure that such close contact was making me squirm.

"You're going to need to keep the ice on it for a few more minutes to keep the swelling down.” He backed away from me and retreated to his former posture, leaning against the center island and grabbing hold of his beer. A satisfied smirk played upon his lips, knowing he had an advantage over me just seconds ago. Confidently, he raised the beer to his lips and took a quick swig. All the while, his eyes locked on me as he cherished his victory.

I opened my mouth to say something, but merely closed it again because I didn't have any words come to mind. Who was this guy? And why won't he leave me alone. More importantly, what the hell was he doing to me just now? No one had ever had that effect on me. First of all, he had no concern over the personal space of others. Second, how dare he give me advice on how to handle my wounded ankle. Clearly he isn't nearly old enough to be a qualified doctor. And lastly, how dare he be so sure he’d have some sort of hold over me. Everything about him made me hate him.

As I searched my brain for the right biting insult to hiss at him, a familiar voice slurred into the kitchen, making me snap back to reality.

"Dexterrrrr! My main homie, what's going on?"

I looked to my right and saw Gabe stumbling into the kitchen with a beer in his hand.

"Great p-party man! Can always count on you to bring in the b-babes. And good call hiding all the breakables. Your d-dad nearly disowned you last time he found out you borrowed his house for a rager like this one." He clinked his beer with Dexter's who merely looked at him with an amused expression. So this was his house. That's why he knew exactly which drawer the dish towels were in.

Gabe looked around and his eyes landed on mine. A smile spread across his face and stumbled over to where I was sitting on the counter.

"Hey CheChe! Where have you been, cousin? N-Nikki was looking around for you, but I told that fine piece of ass to check the bathrooms because we all know how much of a lightweight you are." He winked at me and threw his arm around my neck.

He then turned to look at Dexter again who was staring at the exchange occurring in front of him with a quizzical expression, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Dex! Dexter, this is my c-cousin, CheChe." he slurred, his grip on me tightening as he smashed our cheeks together. I shoved him off me and sent him a warning look before glancing at Dexter, who sent me a knowing grin.

"CheChe." He raised his beer to me and took another swig. I silently ripped his head off in my mind and sent him a death glare.

"Gabe, quit calling me that. Or else I'll tell every girl at this party what I really call you." I hissed, watching as his eyes opened widely and his jaw dropped. Gabe tends to over exaggerate his expressions when he’s drunk.

"Shhhh! Don't, Chels." He pushed his index finger against my lips to silence the words that were not coming out off mouth. His eyes drifted down to the ice resting on my ankle. "Did you fall again?" He busted into hysterics. "We haven't even been here that long. Have we?"

I swatted his hand away and laughed. "Yet you are already drunk." I teased, removing the ice from my ankle and pushing myself off the counter to steady myself. The pain was no longer as severe, but wrote good measure. I took off my heels and tossed the ice towel into the nearby sink as Dexter and Gabe engaged in a conversation about the usual guy stuff. I moved around them to grab a beer from the cooler and proceeded to make my way out of the kitchen, towards the huge double doors that looked to lead towards the backyard. As I glanced back at where I left Dexter and Gabe, I saw that they were now being bombarded by girls wearing dresses that barely covered their asses. They were practically throwing themselves at them, leaning their bodies into them in a drunken haze as if to say “take me away.”

I scoffed and proceeded out the doors leading to the backyard with my heels in one hand and a beer in the other.

The backyard was fairly empty, with the exception of a few couples making out on lounge chairs by the pool and others gathered in the corner of the yard, bumming cigarettes. My eyes traveled to the far end of the backyard where there was a railing overlooking the city lights. It was a beautiful view. Dexter's family must be really rich to wake up to a view like this every morning. I dropped my heels down next to me and focused on trying to open the beer bottle in my palm. I pushed the neck of the bottle against the railing and slammed my other hand down, removing the cap with ease.

With satisfied grin on my face, I tipped it back and felt the bitter liquid as it rushed down my throat. I breathed evenly and looked out at the precious view. I stood there for a few moments, clearing my mind and relishing in the fact that music was no longer blaring into my ears. After I finished my beer, I set the empty bottle beside my heels and fished out my phone from my jeans. I had three unread text messages:

Nicole
Where the hell are you? Found a cute rebound guy for you. Come quick or I might have to take him for myself.

Nicole
Just spotted Brian. Sleezebag has a new slut on his arm. I'll deck him for you, just give me the word.

Mom
I called you earlier to say goodnight. Your father has more meetings tomorrow morning, so we won’t be home for a few more days. I'll try you again in the morning. I love you, be safe!

I texted my mom back and pushed my phone back into my pocket. My eyes traveled back to the party going on inside the house. Brian was here somewhere with a new girl hanging on his arm, seven hours after we officially broke up. It’s like no one has any common decency anymore. I mean, I know I didn’t care all that much for him, but still. When I first met him, I never thought he’d be this type of person. One thing I’ve learned time and again is that people aren’t always what you expect them to be. I slid my heels back on and ignored the slight pain in my ankles, preparing myself for battle. If Brian was going to flaunt his new slut of interest on front of me, I could come back at him with a taste of his own medicine. This means war.

This scene never ceases to amaze me, and I really don’t mean that in a good way. It’s all just so mindless and typical. Where the music plays, people are sweaty and grinding against each other in the most primal way possible. On the couch in the corner, there is a group of emotionless, passive faces smoking pot and complaining about other people at the party in the most pretentious way possible. And in front of me, surrounding the dining room table, there is a crowd of scantly dressed girls surrounding a few guys playing beer pong.

“Hey, beautiful! How about playing some beer pong with your knight and shining armor?”

My gaze narrowed in on Dexter leaning against the wall beside the dining room table, a beer in his hand as he beckoned me over with the other. He was drunk. Either that or he was naturally very arrogant. “I’ll pass.”

A smirk made its way onto his lips. He wasn’t fazed by my rejection. “Suit yourself.”

I moved past him and continued to scan the room. And then my eyes landed on something that enraged every fiber of my being. On the far end of the living room, my sorry excuse for an ex-boyfriend was lip-locked with a skimpy blond that I’d seen around a lot during parties like this. I didn’t know a lot about her, but Gabe always told me that she would have sex with anything that moves. Leave it to Brian to jump at her the first chance he got. When they pulled away, his eyes landed on me and immediately he froze as if caught in the act. He awkwardly looked away and leaned forward to whisper something to the blond causing her to pull away from him and pout her lips. She grabbed his hand and led him toward the kitchen, a few feet away from where I was standing. I backed up, and looked around me, quickly thinking of a plan. My eyes landed on Dexter’s lax frame, still leaning against the wall and taking swigs of his beer.

“I need your help with something,” I nudged his arm, causing him to spill his beer and choke a little. He put his beer on the table and sent me a confused look as he wiped his mouth.

“What? No. It depends, what is it?”

I rolled my eyes, “Kiss me.”