Inseparable

“You have feelings for this guy,” she said with a gasp. “Like real ‘let’s have a relationship’ feelings.”

“No,” I said sternly. “It was lust, not love. We had been attracted to each other since day one, and it was intense. I won’t lie about that, but in the end, that’s all it was.”

“You are lying to me or yourself or someone.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t be so upset if it weren’t true.”

“I’m upset because of everything,” I said defensively. “Tanner isn’t the kind of guy who falls in love. I don’t have time for a fling, no matter what my feelings are. The reality of it is, I slept with him, I got involved in something I shouldn’t have, and now I am in deep shit. My father is there with him, getting drunk because my mother is a crazy whore, apparently, and I’m here after sneaking out of his apartment like a hooker.”

“At least he got you out.” She laughed. “You could be spending your weekend in the closet, having meals brought to you.”

“True,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Look, you need to relax,” she said looking at me. “You need to take a deep breath and just take the rest of the weekend to think about everything. Right now, your feelings are really raw.”

“You’re right,” I sighed.

“And to do that, we are going to do some serious drinking,” she said slapping her hands on her legs. “Come on. You can wear some of my clothes.”

I smiled, realizing that Brianna was right, I needed to just have a normal twenty-five-year-old weekend where I started the day with a glass of mimosa and ended it passed out on the bed. Brianna and I hadn’t spent much time together lately, and it would be just as good for me to spend time with her this weekend as it would be for her. I followed her into the bedroom and changed my clothes, listening to her change the subject and start to get super excited for the day she was dreaming up in her head.

After I was dressed, we hit the town, starting with brunch where we ate, drank mimosas, laughed, and started our weekend dive into total annihilation mode. After that, we did some shopping but not without Brianna’s signature move of a water bottle filled with whiskey and diet coke like we were teenagers sneaking alcohol. After brunch, I was already feeling good, and I let loose, allowing myself to really enjoy the day with laughter, jokes, and all the things I loved about being best friends with Brianna. We went from bar to bar through the city, having a drink, taking a shot, and then moving on to the next spot like we didn’t have a care in the world.

By the time we got home, it was dark outside, and Brianna went straight in, passing out on her bed. I was wasted, and I stumbled into the spare bedroom and lay down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I pulled my phone out and dialed Tanner, not giving a shit at that moment. It was amazing how inhibitions could be completely forgotten when you had an entire day of drinking under your belt.

“Hellllooo,” he sang with a laugh.

“Well, hello there sexy pants,” I said. “Still getting wasted with my dad?”

“Ah, the old guys have folded,” he said, obviously tipsy. “You sound like you’re feeling good though.”

“Brianna has all the cures.” I giggled.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m pretty confident my dick would be a good cure right now for you.”

“I’m pretty sure your dick was a pretty good reason I got drunk in the first place,” I replied laughing.

“Ouch,” he said. “I thought I was better than that, Ava.”

“Trust me, you were phenomenal,” I replied with laughter.

We talked for a little bit longer, sending little flirty and dirty quips back and forth to each other. When the ceiling started to spin with the fan, I said my goodnights and hung up the phone, dropping it in the floor and rolling over in the bed. Before my eyes collapsed shut under the weight of whiskey, I thought about Tanner and tried desperately to let the feelings inside of me float away with the alcohol. Whether I liked it or not, it was pretty obvious I had it bad for this guy.

Chapter 19

Tanner

Getting drunk was fun, waking up Sunday with a massive hangover was definitely not fun. My body did not recover from the liquor like it used to. I groaned, hearing Dean up in the other room. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was all over the place. The light shining in around the blinds on my windows was painful, and my head felt like it had its own damn heartbeat. I looked down at my phone and growled, remembering the conversation I had the night before with Ava. We were both really wasted and couldn’t help but flirt with each other. I was just glad that phone call came after I had shut myself in my room, too drunk to really function any longer. Dean decided after that first bar that he needed a day when he didn’t have to be responsible for anything. He was ready to take it back to our college days, the only problem being the fact that we were old dudes, and our bodies were definitely not used to consuming that much alcohol. I was pretty sure Dean had thrown up in an alley off of Fourteenth and proceeded to then whoop and holler the entire walk back to the apartment. Why we didn’t grab a cab, I will never actually figure out.

I sat up in bed slowly, every inch giving me a new reason not to ever drink again. The shots at the last three places had sent me over the edge. I’d tried to drink slowly, knowing that Dean really gave no fucks, but after the first four places, I stopped caring anymore as well. It was a downhill slide after that.

“Tanner,” I heard Dean shout. “Wake the fuck up.”

I didn’t know why but there was something in his voice that was not okay. I looked around for my phone but remembered that I left it on the kitchen counter after getting a glass of water and hanging up with Ava. I groaned and pulled myself from the bed, grabbing some shorts and attempting to put them on as the world spun below me. I needed an IV of coffee pumping right into my soul in order to survive this Sunday morning. What the fuck was Dean doing up so early?

I walked out of the bedroom and turned the corner, freezing as Dean stood there, staring angrily at me. I shook my head, trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if Dean was standing there looking like he wanted to punch me in the face. Nope, he was definitely standing there with his hands on his hips and his hair wild on his head. He was holding my phone in his hand and gritting his teeth, and immediately, I knew, he had figured it out. But how?

“What are you doing?” I walked over and took the phone from his hand, walking into the kitchen and flipping on the coffee maker. “You normally go through people’s phones?”

“I was curious,” he said angrily.