Forever Together (Forever Love #2) (10 page)

Tears are running down my cheeks and if I didn’t have panda eyes before, I definitely do now. I’m a hot mess. My throat constricts again and more liquid rushes out of my mouth.

The hand rubbing soothing circles on my back halts for a second when I gag before carrying on. I could cry with how shit I feel. Hell, I may already be doing that seeing as my cheeks are soaked with tears. Judging by how much sick is coming up, I must have drunk a hell of a lot.

"I’m s-sorry." I sob pathetically.

"What am I gonna do with you, huh? I don’t think there’s anyone else in the fucking world as clumsy as you Cinders." I let out a laugh that sounds a lot more like some kind of dying animal.
M
m
y throat is all scratchy and sore and my head just
droop
lay
s down, my chin touching my chest. "Come here." I’m hoisted back up into his arms and I gingerly put my arms around his neck, leaning my head on his strong shoulder.

My body bounces with every step he takes and before I know it, he walks right on in the house, not pausing to even knock.

"Yo! A little help here." He calls out, his voice ricocheting through my head.

"Oh God." I mumble, bringing a hand to my temple and rubbing in circles the way my Mom always used to do when I had a headache.

"Brady? Are you ok? What are you..." I can hear my Mom's voice but it seems far away. "Oh my! Cindy, what’s wrong?"

Brady stays silent which seems like the smart thing to do. I wish I could do the smart thing. Instead, here I am, practically stumbling through the door like a High School amateur. Never will I accept a drink from Liv again. Never ever again.

"She erm-"

"What’s that smell?" My Mom interrupts and I if I thought the last few minutes were embarrassing, that just took the humiliation scale through the roof.

"Cindy had a little bit to drink, I don’t think it suited her." I can feel Brady’s chest tense after he talks, as if he’s waiting for the inevitable blast.

"She's drunk! Oh my Lord, what did she have to drink? She looks terrible." Oh great, so I smell bad
and
,
look terrible, talk about kicking someone when they’re down.

"A Livito?" Brady answers.

"A what?"

His shoulder shrugs underneath my head and I groan. I’m so tired. Maybe I can just go to sleep right here. It’s pretty comfortable and I don’t think Brady needs to be anywhere. I giggle to myself with my own thoughts, forgetting that there are two other people in the room.

"Well, she can’t go back in Bailey's room."

"That’s where she’s sleeping?" Brady grinds out as if he’s pissed. About what though I don’t know.

"Yes, Brady." My Mom's tone is clipped. "This is a big family and a little house. Jim's doing the attic out for her though."

"The attic?" I wince at the rise in Brady’s voice. I haven’t got the energy to try and stop this train wreck waiting to happen so I just lay there quietly pretending I’m asleep like the conflict avoider I am.

"Uh huh." I know that tone. I’m sure my Mom's got her hands on her hips and is looking at Brady with a raised eyebrow daring him to say something else.

There’s a God awful silence that just makes me wish for actual sleep to take me. I feel like cheering when Brady finally ends it. 

"She hurt her ankle I think falling outta my truck."

"Oh, well bring her to the couch and I’ll take a look at it."

I snuggle a little deeper into Brady, absorbing all of his body heat and even though I’m already practically baking, I accept it eagerly. It feels warm. Safe. I keep my eyes squeezed shut even when I’m placed onto the couch. I’m sure I’m totally obvious but nobody says anything to me, My Mom's dainty fingers feel around my ankle which thankfully doesn’t hurt anymore which is a good sign.

"She’s fine. Being drunk probably helped the fall, relaxes the muscles." She sighs. "I think Avery’s still up so I'll go get her to go into Bailey's room and Cindy can take her bed."

"Are you sure she can be on her own? What if she throws up in her sleep or some sh... something and chokes on her own puke? Maybe I should stay and keep an eye on her?" Brady’s voice seems panicked and I feel like crying knowing why that is.

"She'll be fine Brady, don’t worry. I'll check on her through the night. I'll be back in a minute."

My hair is brushed away from my head and judging by the size of the fingers, I’m guessing it’s my Mom. I listen to her retreating footsteps and then tense up realizing Brady and I are alone again. I resist the urge to pop one eye open in case, you know, he catches me. That'd just be even more embarrassing. My hair is brushed away from my head again and I can feel Brady’s warm breath roll over my cheek.

"She’s gone. You can open your eyes now." How the hell did he know? Ok, I know I’m not gonna win any Oscars but was it really that obvious? Probably.

I open my eyes, the light from the lamp almost like a torch being shone
in
onto
my face. That’s how it feels anyway. Brady’s face is not even five inches away from my own and his shimmering brown eyes seem as if they’re taking my whole face in.

"How'd you get so beautiful Cinders?" I do the most stupid thing ever and shrug. "I missed you."

My throat is clogged up, but not with vomit this time. The truth is, I missed him too. So much. Christ, for those first few weeks it felt like I'd lost a limb as well as my heart. He rubs his rough hand
against
on
my cheek and I nuzzle my face into it, desperate for more contact. I’m not sure if it’s the booze but right now I just wanna crawl inside his body so that I can be with him always.

"It's not been the same without you." He whispers, the gentleness of his voice making me want to burst out crying and blubber on the shoulder I was just lying on.

I stay silent, not trusting my own voice and emotions. I’m pretty sure I've shown myself up enough for one night.

He looks into my eyes, his own conveying so much emotion but with the state I’m in at the moment, I don’t know if I can trust it. Maybe I’m seeing things. Maybe my drunkenness is making me see things I want to see. It’s been six months after all, there’s no way he's been moping around for months. I can’t stop or even control my heart that quickens up or my stomach that’s tingling with the thought that maybe he has.

"Oh, you’re awake!" My Mom's voice interrupts and I feel my eyes widen. I pull away from Brady with lightning speed to see my Mom with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. "Rooms ready. I figure it's best if Bailey doesn’t get drunk off the fumes you're letting off at the minute honey, so you're in Avery’s bed tonight. There’s a bucket next to it in case you need to throw up again. Come on, let's get you upstairs and in
to
bed to sleep this off."

"I'll do it." Brady rushes out and my head swings around the face him. "Come on, Cinders." I’m lifted in
to
the air again and the thought of being alone in a bedroom with Brady has goosebumps r
a
ising and a little shiver travels through my body. Alcohol obviously turns me into a hormonal mess.

I clutch onto his shirt as he navigates around my very smarmy looking Mother and carries me up the stairs as if I weigh no more than a newborn baby. His strength is definitely a huge turn on. My cheeks are burning up and I’m sure if Brady was looking down at me instead of in front, he'd know exactly what I’m thinking. He'd probably get that arrogant smirk on his face he always used to get when he knew I was...

Ok, change of thoughts, change of thoughts! I keep my eyes closed and from the absence of the jolting that’s been happening, I’m guessing we've finally reached the top. I hear a door open and blink my eyes open to find us in Avery's room.              

This room was previously my own back before I went to college. The black and white striped wallpaper that covered the main wall in those days has been replaced by a vibrant peony
-
patterned paper. The bright blue of the background and pale pinks of the flowers make it pop out and it’s the first thing you see on entering the room. Even in my drunken state, I gotta give my Mom props, she’s made it look good. The black glossy furniture is long gone and is now a white shabby chic style with fancy knobs and handles.

Brady lays me on my sister’s queen size iron-framed bed. The comforter underneath me is like one giant pillow that I just sink into. I sigh at the lusciousness of it all. Before I can thank him for all his help and bid him goodnight, Brady’s pulling off my heels bringing relief to my sore feet. I notice that one of my heels is snapped and whimper at the loss. I loved those shoes, they made my calves look really good and they went with so many outfits.

"Thank you." My voice is scratchy from the assault my throat took. My eyes are heavy and I’m blinking extra trying to keep them open.

"No problem. It’s been... eventful." A smile lifts his mouth up, a mouth so beautiful. Can mouths be beautiful? His certainly is. 

"I’m sorry."

"Are you kidding? Best fucking thing to happen in a long time."

"Me throwing up?" I frown

"Nah. Getting to spend more than five minutes with you without having to chase you down in the street for it."

My cheeks heat with a blush and
I
bring my chin to my chest as if it'll hide me. Since nobody’s mentioned it since, I was hoping everyone had forgot
ten
about me running through Main street before my trip to the ground. Seems I’m not that lucky.

"Hey," A single finger tips my chin up so I’m looking into two dark eyes filled with humor. "It’s ok. People run from me all the time because of how good looking I am. It’s like looking at the sun."

"Still arrogant I see." I smile and raise my eyebrows.

"Can’t be arrogant if it’s the truth now can it?" He winks and my stomach takes a free fall. "Anyway, never mind my dashing good looks. Do you need anything? Water? To puke?" I shake my head, too busy staring to give a verbal answer. "Ok, well, I’m gonna pop in to check on you tomorrow."

"You don’t have to do-" My words are halted when he places a thick finger against my lips to shut me up, which I do willingly.

"Shh. I’m gonna come check on you tomorrow, Cinders. I’m not gonna lie to you. I've missed you like fuck. Not seeing you or being with you has been... shit!" He throws his hands up in the air and runs them through his dark blond hair which is already ruffled. He takes a deep breath. "I'll see you tomorrow, we'll talk then ok." I nod my head, figuring there’s no point arguing. "Goodnight Cindy. The buckets down here next to the bed so if you feel sick make sure you use it." He stands up and heads for the door.

When he’s like this I feel like saying screw it and begging for another chance. This is the caring, sweet side of him. Everybody else sees a joker, a guy that never takes anything seriously, that’s always ready for a laugh. I see the real Brady though, the kind Brady who holds my hair back when I puke and carries me to bed, who catches me every single time I fall.

"Brady." I call out, my voice breaking. He turns around to face me. I have no idea what to say or why I even called out
to
for
him. I take a few moments to take in the hard edges of his features, the darkness of his eyes and the messiness of his hair. He’s the same. He’s still my Brady. "Goodnight." I give him a small smile and get a blinding one in return.

"Night Cinders." He winks before slipping out the door, leaving it open a fraction.

I lie there staring at the partially open door that he just left through. My heart's still racing and I can practically hear it in my own ears. I feel like I've been run over by a train, the train that is my ex-boyfriend Brady Cooper. What happened to avoiding him? Granted that’s a bit hard when you're drunk as hell and fall
ing
off a table into his arms.

I can’t deny the way I feel though. The way my stomach feels as if it's spinning, my heart pounding and my mind in some far off place where everything was perfect. I feel as though something’s slipped back into place, something I didn’t even know was missing, a piece of me that disappeared six months ago and that will probably disappear again in the morning when I realize that none of this is real, that it’s all down to my drunkenness. I can’t trust this feeling, or those words, not in this state.

I roll over to face the white framed window that faces onto the front yard. It was that very window I was hanging out of when Brady gave his stupid speech. The amount of girls that came up to me blabbering about how I should've been embarrassed. I wasn’t though. Brady isn’t one for flowers and sweet words, especially not back then. Hell, our third date was riding mattresses down the stairs. 

I can see the branch of the thick Live Oak tree just outside the window, hanging over from the neighbor’s yard. It’s close enough that you can reach it. It was my main escape route in my teenage years with Brady waiting at the bottom with arms outstretched as if to catch me if I fall.