After You (Because of You 2)

Regret already transformed his features, but when he sees my tears, his eyes darken even more. “Nikki… I can’t tell you how sorry I am for… for all of that.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” I tell him, wiping the tears away. “I need you to go away. I need you to travel back in time to the moment you decided to fuck me over and decide to go home instead. I don’t want your apology, Derek, I want to erase you from my memory.”

He stands there, looking a little stunned, but I have nothing more to say to him, and in my currently less than sober state, there’s nothing he can say that I want to hear. I reach out and take my drink from his hand, then I turn around and go to find Henry.

Now that I am already tipsy, I wonder why I don’t drink all the time. For the first time in years, I feel liberated, and I don’t know if it’s because I told off Derek or because alcohol numbs the pain. God, alcohol is the greatest. Moments ago I was standing in front of my soulmate telling him to fuck off, tears trailing down my face, and I can’t feel it.

Wait, not soulmate. No. Fuck Derek. That wasn’t the word I meant.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

I sigh happily, tipping back my drink. I’m going to drink it faster. I’m going to get so drunk. It’s gonna be amazing.

I forget I’m looking for Henry, but the cocktail hour is in the reception hall, and the band is setting up already. I want to dance! I can’t dance, because Alex and Bethany have to do theirs first. I need to find someone to dance with.

Henry!

Oh, yes. I want to see Henry more than anything. Handsome, wonderful, safe Henry. He’s funny and smart and sexy. I doubt he has any tattoos, but that’s okay.

I find him talking to Alex with his back facing me, so I take advantage to sneak up on him, wrap my arms around his waist and hug him from behind.

“There’s my handsome boyfriend.”

Henry stiffens, grabbing the drink I’m about to slosh all over him, then lifts his arm to turn and look, as if he needs to make sure that’s me behind him.

“Nicole?”

I keep my arms around him, sliding around front, then I wind my arms around his neck, pull myself up on my tiptoes, and kiss the hell out of him.

He clearly does not know how to process what is happening, but he attempts to go with it, sliding his free arm around my waist and kissing me back.

I don’t feel anything, but that’s okay. I wonder if I would feel anything kissing the bartender. He seems exciting. Like the kind of guy who would take a wrecking ball to my heart if I ever let him, but I definitely would not do that.

I wonder if I would still feel fireworks kissing Derek?

Probably not. Probably only dumbass 18-year-olds feel fireworks from kissing. I’m too old for it now, that’s all it is.

Doesn’t matter. This is fine. Better than fine. Guys without the ability to set you on fire with their kisses can’t incinerate your heart.

I break away from Henry’s mouth and grab my drink, tipping it back until it’s empty. “I need another one of these, but I don’t want to accidentally flirt with the bartender again. Will you come with me?”

Henry blinks. “Again? As in, you flirted with him a first time?”

I should probably feel worse about that, but I’m super casual. “Yep. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. He almost got a tattoo for me. I need someone to keep me in hand when I’m drinking. I tried to explain. I think I have alcoholism in my blood. But I also think I should start drinking more, because I feel so good right now.”

Alex interrupts, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Henry, steadying his hands on my shoulders and staring at me like I’m a stranger. “What the hell is happening to you right now?”

“This is Nikki,” I inform him, stumbling while standing still. “She’s a fucking idiot with feelings, so many feelings, and alcohol brings her right out.”

“Have you been crying?” Alex demands, scowling at my face.

“No! Oh, yes. Briefly. I forgot. I’m better now. I just need someone to babysit me so I can get another drink, because I am not currently capable of adulting.”

I’m spinning out of control and loving it, but Alex has probably been through this himself enough times to know he needs to stop me. “You need water.” Looking past me at Henry, he says, “Go get her water.”

“No, I don’t want water,” I complain. “I want to feel good.”

“Trust me, kiddo, alcohol is not the answer.”