Weak Around You✔️

13} heated moments

Edited.

{Saturday}

"You are either on my side, by my side, or in my fucking way. Choose wisely."

~Unknown

{Sam}

We all got ready at Nathan's, both his moms as talkative and sweet as ever. They were always so nice, their son taking in their genes, when he wanted to that is. Nathan knew who his dad was, even met him a couple of times. But, he was brought up since birth by his 2 moms. They went with the sperm donating thing instead of the adoption suggestion. Never regretted it, they say, which always embarrassed Nathan and he tried to avoid ever talking about it, especially when his friends were around.

We arrived at the party, "fashionably" late. It started at 8pm and ended whenever people's eye lids started to droop down and the sobering kicked in. So basically, there wasn't really any time it ended. Especially if the party was held by the party king: Henry Williams.

'Always hosts a party whenever he feels like it needs to happen.'

Laughing at Nathan making a joke, we stepped inside the cream walled house and waltzed our way into the kitchen. For drinks of course.

Riley scrambles inside her bag looking for something and not a second later, whips out a large bottle of tequila. "You are all welcome." She announces, earning a few hoots and cheers from us, which she slightly bows to.

"The devils juice." I observe aloud, a small proud smirk falling on my lips.

"We're about to get fucked up!" Eric sings, earning us to laugh or shake our heads at him, but agreeing nonetheless.

Eric rushes to the cabinet and grabs all 5 of us a shot glass, passing them over to Riley. Lining them up on the counter she pours it from 1 end to the other in a matter of seconds.

"I should become a bar tender." She jokes, but slightly admires her work.

"It was pretty smooth." Eric comments and Riley agrees. "I'm going to switch things up a bit." He voices out of the blue, making us all look up at him from our shot glasses. "Instead of the count of 3, we do it my way."

"Here we go." Riley mutters under her breath.

He quickly shoots her a glare which she sarcastically smiles back to, my girl, and than continues on. "And a 5, 6, 7, 8." He downed back the shot, all of us copying his actions after we got the idea.

The liquid glides down the back of my throat with a burn, making me feel an ounce of satisfaction. After we all gulped back the alcohol, we fished some free (or someone elses) drinks from the fridge and made our way over to our place, the lounge room. Our very well known territory.

We sat ourselves down, chatted for no more than 45 minutes and all thought it was about time to dance our almost tipsy and some tipsy asses off.

"Let's dance our asses-" Riley looks at Tom in a knowing way, "or non-existent asses off!" She yells out with a woop.

So we all make our way through the crowd and reach the dance floor near the kitchen and outside area. Moving our body to the slow and sensual music, drinks in our hands and having a well deserved good time.