Faking Forever Ch. 17-18

Chapter 17

She walked way hurt and I sat there in my car feeling like an ass for giving her a dose of her own medicine. I was so arrogant at times it drove people away from me and this time I wondered if my own hard-to-get game just destroyed the tender flame that I knew existed inside of her. "Take me to the bar," I snapped, and the driver took off. As the limo slowly rolled past Cici, walking to the subway entrance, she glanced at me. I swore I saw her crying, but I rolled the window up and focused on trying to not feel so guilty. I typed up a long message apologizing to her and letting her know how I felt, but I just couldn't hit send. I wanted to tell her in person.

My driver stopped outside the little dive on Eighty-Second Street and I climbed out, locking my phone instead of sending that text message. Beck and the guys were waiting on me, though they probably started the festivities without me. I was merely the designated driver since I had the limo and a sober driver to cart us around on the bar crawl. Beck insisted on the old tradition, though we hadn't done it in a few years. It was something we started in college.

"Hey!" The cheer went up from the table as I approached. I saw half a dozen empty beer glasses and a few shot glasses lined up. "Jäger!" Tom said as I sat next to them.

"Already? It's a bit early for Jäger."

"Are you kidding? Beck's had two shots already." Tom emptied his glass and the others followed suit. I eyed the glass not certain it was how I wanted the night to go. I knew my temper got out of control while drinking whiskey and so did Beck, and we weren't really on good ground right now.

"Come on, Drew," Beck slurred, elbowing me hard. "Drink!"

The guys started a chorus of chants. "Drink, drink, drink!" So against my better judgement, I picked up the shot glass and downed it quickly, feeling the burn of the strong alcohol down my throat. They cheered at my willing participation into my own descent of madness, but I wasn't cheering. I was angry with myself for not giving Cici a ride. They could have waited and I'd have had a chance to tell her how I really felt. She'd just irritated me with that comment about us not dating, and then reminded me I hadn't been invited. Why did I always get so defensive?

Someone turned the jukebox on so loud it was easy to get lost in my thoughts about her. She had been so smitten by my behavior that she had initiated kissing me, and it hadn't been because we were arguing. It was all genuine too--the compliments, the way I held her to me. It felt so perfect. I wanted that to be the way we were together, and I had let myself get so into it, that when she wanted that peck, I gave her full-on lip service.

The night went on as it usually did. Women approached our table and the guys took numbers, but all I did was order more drinks. I didn't want another woman's number. I wanted Cici. They guys didn't seem to notice, except Beck, whose scowl continued to deepen every time another woman approached me and I rebuffed her with the line, "I'm not interested, thanks."

"What gives man?" Beck rammed his shoulder into me. He'd had far too much to drink and I knew it would be trouble if I responded in any way, but he'd press the issue. My nonresponse would constitute as an aggressive response, so I had to say something.

"Just not feeling well tonight. Think I ate something off." The beer in front of me didn't even look appetizing. I kept thinking of the text I typed up and hadn't sent.

"Seriously? The great Drew Pratt, womanizer and player extraordinaire isn't interested in any of these gorgeous women who keep throwing themselves at you?" It sounded like he was forcing himself to be funny, but I could hear the anger building in his chest.

I slid out of the booth and moved toward the bar, but the others followed en masse, as if it were time to move to the next location. "Just getting a drink, guys."

"You had a drink," Beck snapped. Tom raised his eyebrows and moved away slightly. "What's going on, Drew? You never act like this."

"I told you," I said, tapping my finger on the bar to get the barkeeper's attention, "I'm not feeling well."

"So you're getting different alcohol?"

"I'm getting water." I could see the rage just beneath the surface. Beck was about to blow his lid. I was grateful I'd only consumed a few drinks because I knew I would pound him if he took a swing at me.

"You did something with her, didn't you?" His accusation was a dagger in my chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I watched the bartender moving around, serving others. He hadn't seen me yet.

"I'm talking about Cici." From the corner of my eye I could see Beck's hands curl into fists.

"Woah! Pratt, you're screwing his baby sister?" one of the guys called, and they howled. "She's a baby. You robbin' the cradle?"

"Yeah, man," Tom chimed in, "you need a woman, not a kid. Besides I heard she slept with that Kyle guy and--"

"Knock it off, bozos. She's more woman than any of you will ever nail, so back off." I turned on them, chest puffed out, ready to knock their heads for talking about her like that. My sudden reaction was met with a violent right hook to the chin.

"You did! Didn't you!" Beck rubbed his knuckles as I took a step back. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth against the pain, and rubbed my face. "You had sex with her."

I held my tongue as the bartender approached. "You guys need to take that outside or I'm calling the cops."

"We're good," I told him, holding up my hand.

"Are we good? Because I told you a long time ago that Cici was off limits. She's my baby sister."

"She's not a baby. And she doesn't need you to protect her."

Tom had to physically restrain Beck from coming at me again. I wasn't intimidated. I stood with my shoulders squared waiting for him to make another move. This time I wouldn't hold back. No one had any right to tell me what to think, feel, or do about Cici.

"My god, Drew. If you touched her I'm gonna kill you."

"Get that guy out of here," the bartender warned, and Tom grabbed him by the arm and started tugging him toward the door.

"This isn't over, Pratt. If I find out you had sex with her, you're dead."

I stood there watching the guys drag him out, deep-breathing my own anger away. I wasn't angry with Beck. He had a right to be upset. We were best friends, business partners, and men who had agreed long ago that certain women were off limits. Women we had dated in the past. Women we knew the other one liked. And most importantly Cici Adler, because Beck wanted her to be safe.

"You alright, buddy?"

I turned to see the bartender staring at me. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just get me a Jäger." I slumped onto the barstool and waited for the drink. I was probably ruining my chances with Cici, all the while I was ruining a friendship I'd had for more than ten years. The shot glass slid across the bar and stopped by my stool and I picked it up and downed, it then tapped it on the bar indicating I wanted another. I needed the courage to hit send on that massage, because I had never wanted anything more in my life. Cici was it for me and I wanted nothing else.

If I made a fool of myself by sending it and she ghosted me, at least she'd know how I really felt. If I never sent it, she'd be hurt and think I was an asshole. I had to do it, because I had to know that she was feeling the way I was. As soon as the second shot of Jäger was down the hatch, I opened my phone and hit send. No risk, no reward. And all I could think of is how great a reward it would be if she responded that she felt the same. 

Chapter 18

I woke up with a slight headache, the consequences of going out to a club with Nev instead of coming back to Beck's apartment to sulk after the shitty way Drew treated me. We drank and cried, then danced. Nev didn't' even rub it in how she told me this would happen. She was gracious and patient, even when I confessed how magical the night on the roof was. If that had only been the real Drew.

I reached for my phone, yawning and stretching at the same time. The purple indicator light flashing told me I had messages. I swiped to unlock it and noticed Nev had called. I also had a call from an unknown number, but I checked Nev's first. She had promised to let me know when she was back to her apartment safe, but I had passed out in bed with my clothes on before she even got home. Her message was peppered with hiccups and slurred speech, which made me chuckle.

"Oh, lord, we had too much fun last night." I deleted the message and flicked to the next one, holding the phone to my ear.

"Ms. Adler, this is Gavin Thorpe from Homeplace Realty. Just wanted to let you know the renovations have been finished. We had the inspector come through yesterday afternoon and everything is approved. You can stop by the office today to pay the deposit and pick up your keys. I'll be available from noon to four. If today doesn't work, just call me back at this number and set up a time."

The smile stretched across my face unconsciously. It wasn't that I hated my brother, but living with him when I was a child had been difficult enough. The age difference often led to him trying to parent me, and I didn't need him to play daddy in my life. I was sure he'd probably be somewhat relieved to get me out of his flat too, though part of me thought he would have liked me to stay permanently just so he could keep an eye on me.

I saw that I had nine text messages, but instead of checking them, I blindly scrolled my Facebook. The messages were probably just Nev trying to get ahold of me when I hadn't answered my phone. After two years and lurking on socials without posting, I had almost given up on them at all, until Drew showed me how one little memory could bring back such a feeling of belonging. Part of me hoped for some magical connection to be made by looking at my Facebook memories again, but nothing inspired any magic.

My text messages weren't going to check themselves so I switched apps, only to find that all nine messages were from Drew. My jaw dropped at the last one--a very vulgar reference to our sexual encounter and his desire to have it again. "Oh my god," I muttered, opening his message thread. I was shocked. The first message was sweet, and they escalated from there.

Drew 11:17 PM: Cici, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude about giving you a ride home. The truth is, I'm totally in love with you and I knew if you got in that car I'd confess and I didn't want to know if you'd reject me. I couldn't handle that. You're gorgeous, and smart, and strong, and everything I ever wanted in a woman. Please text me when you get this and tell me I'm not crazy. That you feel it too.

Drew 12:38 AM: God woman what have you been doing to me?

Drew 12:39 AM: I want you, can't you see that?

Drew 1:03 AM: If I come to your place will you get me in without telling your brother?

Drew 1:07 AM: sorry, no we can't do that. I'm stupid. I'm sorry.

Drew 1:14 AM: Look, we could be good together.

Drew 1:15 AM: Your body is so hot... God I want you.

Drew 1:48 AM: Please tell me I'm not crazy and you loved the way I made your body feel. The way I ate your pussy made you ache for more of my dick in you.

I stopped short of reading that last message again. When I read it the first time it made my body begin to tense and ache and I didn't want to think of Drew like that again. These were obvious drunk texts, littered with misspellings, poor grammar, and open confessions of a love I knew he didn't actually feel for me. Had me meant a single one of them, he'd have never turned me away last night, especially after I had kissed him openly in front of my boss.

I tossed my phone and rubbed my face. He probably expected me to go off on him for drunk texting me, but I was over the entire game. If he wanted me to pick a fight just to get his jollies, he wasn't getting it. I had no intention of responding, but when I thought about deleting them, I decided against it. I wanted the evidence to show him how ridiculous he had acted.

Beck had the air conditioning set so cold that I needed a sweater as I slithered out of bed to my feet. My hair stood on end, and I had rubbed my eyes so many times my mascara gave me the smokey look. My shorts and top were wrinkled and I didn't see my sandals anywhere. Thank god I'd come home and not been out somewhere doing a walk of shame dressed like this. I snagged a sweater and shuffled out to the kitchen were Beck sat eating a bowl of cereal. He had a scowl on his face.

"Everything okay?" I asked, grabbing a bowl for my own breakfast.

Beck shrugged. "Fine."

His sulking was always brought on by some other irritating event, which I assumed had to do with a woman. But maybe I was wrong. "I got word from the landlord I can get the key today. So I'm going to need help with boxes, and I'll be out of your hair tonight."

"Yeah? Call Pratt. He'll help." Beck dropped his spoon in the bowl and stood up, walking away.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I set the bowl on the counter and turned defensively.

"I mean what I said." He glared at me. "You think I don't know?"

"Don't know what?" I asked, my heart suddenly racing. If Drew told him we had sex I was going to kill him.

"What's going on between you and Drew? He's all the sudden defending you to my friends, refusing to talk to other women, and we almost got in a fist fight last night." I glanced at Beck's hand, bruised. I bet Drew's face looked similar.

"Oh, god. Beck, why do you have to do that."

"Tell me the truth, Cici. What's going on?"

I turned around, taking the box of cereal and pouring some into my bowl. "Nothing." It was an honest answer. I walked away from him and I ghosted his messages. Nothing was happening. At least I hadn't thought that until I saw Beck's knuckles.

"Something is going on. What happened?"

Beck grabbed my elbow and forced me to turn around. "Did you sleep with him?"

"No!"

"Cici, don't lie to me. You slept with him." His eyes zeroed in on my face and I knew he could tell if I was lying. I scream-growled and he snapped like a madman. "You did! Oh my god, I hoped Drew was just trying to piss me off on purpose, but he wasn't. It's true."

"Look, what does it matter to you?" I yanked my arm away from him and took a step away.

"He's a player, Cici. He's going to sleep with you until he's had his fill then he will dump you and break your heart. Stay away from him."

He was so angry, there were beads of sweat on his forehead. His eyes were wide and crazy. "You don't care about me at all. If you cared about my protection or my heart, you'd sit down and have a rational discussion with me. This isn't about me not dating him because he's a player. This is about something personal between you two, and I want nothing to do with it." I picked up the bowl of dry cereal and stormed off to the bedroom. Before I slammed the door I shouted, "I'm moving out today with or without your help."

The walls rattled as the door shut and I sat on the edge of my bed eating bran flakes with no milk or sugar. Couldn't believe Drew had told Beck about the sex. He hadn't even talked to me about it yet. I wasn't sure if I should be angry with him, or rushing to reread those text messages to see the hidden meaning. Either way, I couldn't wait to get out of this apartment and away from Beck. The more distance I put between myself and both of them the better. This was too much drama I never signed up for.