Best Woman

Jamie was actually a pretty cool guy, Annabelle soon discovered. He was good-looking, funny, smart and rather flirtatious.

“So, how come a beautiful girl like you, doesn’t have a boyfriend?” Jamie asked her. It had been more than a few drinks, it was almost two-thirty in the morning, and Annabelle was rather drunk.

She giggled, her cheeks flushed, her blonde curls wildly sticking out from dancing: “No suitors bothered…” she teased, and Jamie smirked widely.

“I find that very hard to believe, Miss Jacobs…” he flirted, and leaned closer, they were snuggled within a booth, in a slightly more secluded area. It was nice, Annabelle felt comfortable and….just drunk. She liked the feeling of floating she had, the feeling that Evan didn’t matter and the feeling of no more heartache.

Jamie’s brown hair looked so soft to touch, and Annabelle found herself touching it. Jamie didn’t smirk anymore he was smiling as his hand reached and stroked her cheek, then sliding to her neck and bought her closer to him.

Their lips centimetres apart: “You’re beautiful Annie…” he whispered, and although the nickname should have reminded her of Evan, it strangely didn’t. She wanted to kiss Jamie, she wanted to forget about her best friend, who damaged her heart every time he looked at her.

Their lips touched softly, Annabelle could taste mint from the previous mint shots they had, the smell of Jamie was nice – a real manly smell. The kiss got deeper and soon they were full-on kissing.

Hands in his head, his hands on her waist, roaming up and down: Annabelle found herself straddling him and he groaned with lust.

Annabelle didn’t care right now, she didn’t care about anything – just her lips on Jamie, to get away from her screaming thoughts of disgust.

“ANNIE!” a voice boomed, and Annabelle froze, pulling apart, and staying put. Jamie looked at her confused, and Annabelle hid her face in his shoulder.

Every time she tried: Evan always found a way back to her.

“Hey man, we’re busy here…” Jamie snapped angrily and Annabelle felt her body being pulled away from Jamie. She clambered off him, and pulled her dress down as she swayed all over the place. A arm, a familiar, muscular, strong arm around her, keeping her safe.

“Who the fuck you think you are?” Jamie spat, getting up from the table, coming towards him. For the first time, since she heard his voice, Annabelle looked up to Evan: a furious look on his face in Jamie’s direction.

“You’re taking advantage of an obviously pissed up girl, you should be ashamed!” Evan shouted, his face getting redder and redder with anger.

“Dude, she was on top of me…she was quite willing!” Jamie shouted back. He glared towards him with fury and jealousy.

“Annabelle’s drunk! She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” Evan boomed. In confusion and hurt, Annabelle hid her face into his chest and start to cry. She was drunk, tired and exhausted from emotion.

Jamie’s face softened and he reached out to her: “Annie…” he began, but Evan yanked her away. She looked him sadly.

“I’m sorry, I’ve acted like an idiot…” she began, but Jamie shook his head, glancing at Evan warily.

“No it’s fine….I’ve had a great time, I’m sorry if we took it too far… I’ll call you yeah?” he asked her directly. Annabelle nodded softly. Jamie gave her a quick wink and walked off.

Evan sighed and glanced down at her: “I’m not happy with you.” He mumbled, but kissed her head anyways, sighing with relief.

“You didn’t call Annie…” he scolded, and Annabelle felt so guilty even though she knew she should have been angry at Evan for ruining her escape.
But she couldn’t: she never could with Evan.

“Come on, let’s get you home sweetie…” Evan said, leading her out to his car. He wrapped a blanket around her, and put the heating on low, with soft acoustic music playing. With sudden sleepiness, Annabelle drifted off to sleep, looking at Evan’s side view, his forehead wrinkled slightly and his jaw tense.

She hated making him angry.