You Already Know, So Please Don't Pretend ⚣

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More shitty writing from your favorite Amy Winehouse enthusiast

I stir my drink and search the room for a boy. It's a quiet night, and a weekday, so none of the guys here are tied down. I finally find someone suitable, he's okay. Not hot, not hideous, big hands... And he's wearing a white shirt, perfect. I pickup my drink to go sit next to him, but catch my foot onto a wrinkle in the rug before I reach him. When I look up he's staring at me, with whiskey all over his white shirt. Oops.

The boy helps me up and checks if I'm okay. I apologize profusely.
     "Oh no!" I gasp "I spilled my drink all over your shirt." I pull my bottom lip out to pout.
     "It's no biggie," he smiles handsomely, "my shirt got all over your drink, can I buy you another?" Bingo. He's a sucker.
     "You're so sweet, I guess so... Yes please."

We sit and chat for a while, his name is Brad, he's single, and the rest I don't care about. Eventually things get handsy, it should only be a matter of time before he wants to take me home. His hands are on my thighs, mine on his abs, he's talking about something dull like his family being health-nuts his whole life. No wonder he's alone, he's painfully dry.

Suddenly a hand comes down on my shoulder, making me jump. Shit. This wasn't supposed to happen! I turn slowly and cautiously take my hand off of the boy.

     "Hi baby." I smile my cutest and throw my arms around his waist. Nick plays along for a second by accepting my embrace and pecking my forehead, but only a second.

     "Hi sweetheart, who's your friend?" He swoops down to pull me into his arms in a protectively possessive way. Brad looks horrified. Poor guy has no idea what's coming.

     "Him? I don't know, he just came up on me. I was hoping someone would come help me." I pout slightly. Please feel bad for me. But before Nick can even react, Brad joins the conversation.

     "That's not true!" He panics, "He-" Nick cut him off calmly.

     "First of all don't raise your voice at me or Lucas." Nick pushed me behind him and puffed his chest, what have I done? "Second of all, don't call him a liar. You came onto him how about you man up and own it?" Shit. Nick has a way of punishing me with my words, especially when I'm lying. I force myself between the two and try to push Nick away.

     "It doesn't matter!" I tell nick in my most calming voice, "let's just go home, honey." Yet he still stared Brad right in the eyes, not backing down for a moment.

By the end of the night, it was the bartender that got the two off of each other. Despite Brad's muscles, he walked away with the worst of it. Nick had a swollen cheekbone and a cut on his bicep, but besides that, there was no evidence he'd been in a bar fight.

    "Thanks for that." I tell him while we walk to the car. "He was so creepy, he just came up on me for no reason and it was scary." He sighed.

Nicolas Miller is one person on this earth that can tell when I'm lying. I don't know why he's the one I lie to the most.

     "You know I don't care." He said. I laughed, I couldn't even hold it in.
     "Obviously."
     "I knew you were cheating the second I came home to an empty house." He opened the car door for me and helped me with my bag. "And I let you do it until now, because I don't have a leash on you." He told me, once he got in the car. "But this has to end at some point, Luca. I'm starting to get pissed."

I don't even look at him, I'll only see his disappointment.
     "I didn't cheat." I tell him.

He hands me his phone with some pictures up. Me leaning up against Brad, Brad kissing my arms and collarbone, drinking from his drink, sitting on his lap, I stop scrolling.

     "What did you do then?" I lay my head against the window. This is my fault.
     "What is this, an interrogation?" He turns his body to me and hold my hand desperately.
     "No, there needs to be questions for that. I know you Luca, I know what happens most days, I just don't believe you want this."
     "If you know me so well why can't you believe it?" I jerk my hand from him.

It's silent for the rest of the drive.