Touch Me - A Forbidden Romance

Freya went to set the bottle on the counter, but she was so drunk she didn’t calculate the distance right. It ended up crashing to the floor and shattering. She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of dizziness slam into her, and knew it was time to call this a night and go home. She grabbed a rag, bent down, and started picking up the glass so no one got hurt.

“Hey.” Terra was right behind her, loud enough to be heard over the music, and caused Freya to jump. The piece of glass in her hand fell to the ground but not without cutting her in the process.

She gasped, then stood and turned to see a thoroughly mussed-looking Terra. Her red hair was a mess of waves around her face, and her cheeks were flushed.

“Oh, shit,” Terra said, grabbing the rag out of Freya’s hand and holding it to the cut. After a while of lifting the rag and placing it back on the cut after checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, Terra finally breathed out and removed the rag. “The bleeding has stopped, and I don’t think it’s that deep.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Freya said and braced a hand on the counter to steady herself.

“That’s ’cause you’re wasted,” Terra said on a laugh. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They made their way out of the house with people staring at them and commenting on the bloody rag held to Freya’s hand. Once they were outside, across the street, and in Terra’s car, Freya looked at her friend. “You’re good to drive?”

Terra snorted. “I haven’t had anything to drink, although I am a little bow-legged.”

Freya groaned and closed her eyes, resting her head back on the seat. “No details, please.”

Terra laughed but didn’t respond. They drove the twenty minutes it took to Freya’s place, but it felt like it took forever. By the time Terra parked in the driveway, helped Freya out, and they walked to the front door, Freya turned quickly and emptied her stomach. It lasted a few minutes, and when the dry heaving finally subsided, Terra handed her a napkin.

It wasn’t like Terra was her best friend or that they were even that close. They went to school together, but it was only when Freya started working at the local coffee shop, which was also where Terra worked, that the two started talking. And that had only happened this year.

“Where the hell did this come from?” Freya asked and chuckled.

“My pocket. Be glad it wasn’t used.”

Freya groaned. “Nasty.”

“You’re good to get inside by yourself?”

Freya nodded. “I feel better now.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Freya straightened. “Yeah, I feel a lot better now.” After finally convincing Terra she was really okay, she waved at her friend and watched her get in her car and leave. The sound of Meghan yelling came through the front door, and Freya groaned softly and closed her eyes.

In the three years since Meghan and Elijah had been married, it slowly progressed to where Meghan was a bitching machine. But then again, she’d been this way with her father all the way up until he passed away.

Freya turned and made her way to the porch. She not so gracefully sat down on the concrete step, not about to go in there right now. She might be drunk and able to blissfully walk through that landmine, but no way in hell was she going to let it ruin the buzz she had going on.

It was only about five minutes before the sound of stomping feet came closer to the front door. It eventually opened and slammed against the wall, but Freya didn’t bother turning around. Instead, she leaned her head on the banister next to her, closed her eyes, and waited for everything to pass. But she couldn’t tune out the sound of Meghan bitching at Elijah once more.

“I am so sick of this bullshit, Elijah,” Meghan all but shrieked. “I can’t live like this where you are never home because you’re working all the damn time—”

“And how do you expect to buy your Louis Vuitton purses or pay for that brand-new Mercedes or all the other shit you have to have?” Elijah said from inside in a calm, collected voice.

“And you,” Meghan spat out. “God, you are worthless, coming home drunk and making the porch reek like fucking puke. College can’t come soon enough for your ass.” Meghan stormed down the porch, away from Freya and the house, and was peeling out of the driveway a few minutes later.

Freya lifted her hand and flipped Meghan off even though the bitch didn’t see her. It made Freya feel marginally better, so she supposed that was something.

A second later, the sound of Elijah coming toward the front door stirred Freya slightly, but she was feeling nauseous again, so she didn’t bother moving to look at him.