➳ 𝐇𝐄 '𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

⊰ 𝟚 ⊱

The asshole is softly smirking, "You seem distracted." god, I hate his dimples.

"Maybe because you're in my face." I retort in a lie.

Lyle stands up, and I'm forced to look up at him. The smug look is still showcased on his features as he overtowers me. I eagerly wanted to slap the look off his face. I felt embarrassed he caught me, and he was enjoying it. Taunting me as he swirled the bubble gum over his tongue, the cocky fucker.

Lyle raises his arm to look at his wristwatch. "Shit, I should get you home. It's late."

"No, I just got here." I fold my arms as I look over at his hand. My posture quickly drops when I notice the dry blood on his knuckles.

"Your hand," I gasp, grabbing his with mine. "What happened?" I examine the cuts on it.

"Just some drunk asshole," He says, unfazed. "Don't worry about it." Then pulls his hand away.

Once again, temptation urges me to slap his face, no matter how annoyingly flattering it is to look at.

I hold back on the idea, sadly.

"There's a first aid in the cabinet," I tell him. "You let me clean your hand. I'll let you take me home."

A disinclined look flashes across his heavenly features, and for a second, I assume he's going to disagree with my request, but he lets out a heavy sigh and tells me to 'make it quick.'

"That girl, Cora, is she your ex?" I ask as I pull the first aid from the cabinet.

Lyle sits on the bathroom countertop, his head resting against the mirror behind him as he stares at me, "No. she was just someone I would fuc-" Lyle's looking at me with those guilty eyes again.

I swallow slowly and look away. I knew it was my own fault for being nosy and asking, what did I expect? of course, someone like Lyle Carver wouldn't be a virgin. Still, his words leave me speechless and somewhat disgusted.

Lyle must have noticed the repulsive look on my face because he leans forward. His hand grabs my chin, making me look at him.

"Hey, It's not like I used her. it was mutual, a friend with benefits type of thing."

I find myself nodding at his words. Although I didn't particularly care too much about who Lyle Carver slept with, it was more the fact he had left me with the impression he was a laissez-faire attitude-driven, womanizing jackass. I suppose his explanation cleared that up. Lyle was still a jackass, though. There's no denying that.

I hold out my Palm, "Give me your hand."

Lyle quickly obliges. He rests his hand on the top of mine as I begin by gently removing the dried blood from his knuckles using an antibacterial ointment.

"Lyle," I say. He hums in response, "What's the whole thing with you and Tate?" I ask. Lyle Hesitates for a moment, his eyes anywhere but mine.

"Don't worry about it, Evie." His tone is blunt and cold.

I keep my voice calm, "But I do."

Lyle's back to hesitating, and I get the feeling whatever happened between him and Tate must have been extreme because the seething look on Lyle's face has me questioning if I should even be alone with him right now.

"Look, just stay away from the fucker? understand." He pulls his hand from mine roughly.

I know I shouldn't, but my stubbornness kicks in, "Why should I?"

I've added fuel to the flame, Lyle's now hovering over me, and I feel like an ant compared to him, "Because I said so, that's why."

"No, I want a real reason."

"I don't care what you want, Evie."

"Yeah? well, neither do I."

"You're so fucking stubborn. You know that?"

"Screw you, you pain in my ass."

"Evie!" Lyle calls behind me, trying to pull me back.

"No. Lyle, don't, just leave me alone." I leave him standing alone in the bathroom

I storm out of there. My patience for Lyle had run out. I no longer cared for the reasoning behind his and Tate's drama, or the fact he was mysteriously talking to me for the first time since we met. All I cared about was doing what normal people do at parties. find something containing alcohol, and getting absolutely plastered.

I wanted to take my mind off Lyle Carver for the night. Forget him even, and so, that's exactly what I did.

Eight shots of tequila half an hour later, and Jasper is starting to remind me of a Lyle Carver 2.0. The original Lyle Carver had seemed to take my words to heart, considering he never followed after me.

"Woah, Woah, I would slow down on the shots, Eva," Jasper warned,

trying to snatch the shot glass from me. He was too slow.

I Place my finger over his lips, "Shhh, Jasp. it's a party, remember."

"Jesus, she's wasted." Amber protested. "Do something!" She told Jasper.

"She won't listen to me!?" Jasper's voice comes out muffled due to the music.

"Go find Tyler!" was the last thing I heard before I found myself dancing among the sea of moving bodies.

I knew I'd regret my life choices in the morning, followed by a terrible hangover. I was aware I was a lightweight, But none of that mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was how I felt in the current moment, and I felt pretty amazing.

I raise my hands into the air, then lower them running my fingers through my hair all the way down along the sides of my body. My touch was intoxicating and cool against my warm skin. I could feel the alcohol take full effect when I began feeling lighter than I had remembered, my balance slowly becoming unsteady.

The sensation of hands slides around me, pressing my back firmly against their chest, stopping me from tripping over my own feet.

"Evie." The voice spoke behind me, their chin resting on my shoulder.

The smell of their cologne drifts into my nose. woody vanilla, and chocolate. I know that scent. Their large hands drop to my waist, suddenly spinning me around.

"Evie, you're drunk." His eyes look like swirls of dark honey with flecks of gold under the dim light. "Hey, look at me." He cups my face now.

"You smell good." I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to mine. His lips looked so inviting, and I wondered how'd they would feel against mine. Soft, silky, smooth, and cool to the touch. Just like a rose petal.

His eyes dance between my mine and my lips, temptation spreading across his face like a wildfire. His lips brush against mine like he's fighting the urge to smash them against mine.

"Fuck," He whispers desperately, "I shouldn't."

I pull gently at the strands of hair behind his head. I knew I wasn't acting like myself, but who does when they're drunk? I was leading him on. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. The fact that Lyle was standing on the staircase watching me like a hawk only made me want to piss him off even more. I was letting the alcohol control me more than I should have.

I was so going to regret this.

Then my lips press against Tate's.

✿ ✿ ✿

I'll edit this later properly lmao it's like 5 am for me :,) goodnight.

I just know you guys are gonna hate me for ending this chapter the way I did 💀 sorry <3