Hooked Up

Chapter 7 - Tension

"Oh, sorry," I giggle and am about to close the door when my eyes zero in on the guy. His shirt has disappeared somewhere and his jeans are hanging open, but it's the face that makes me stop. Nick swallows, his eyes guilty. I don't know how long we stand there looking at each other, but finally the red-haired girl clears her throat, holding her shirt to her chest.

"Oh, right," I give her a fleeting look. "Sorry to interrupt. Carry on," I slam the door behind me and scatter before having to listen to anything coming from that room.

I finally find the bathroom but I don't feel like partying anymore. I just want to go home and be alone. I text Stella that I'm taking a cab home, or at least try to. My fingers keep hitting the wrong buttons. Finally managing a somewhat readable text, I put my phone back in my pocket and find a cab outside. They always circle about when there's big parties filled with drunken people. I give the driver my address and lean back, trying not to think about Nick on top of the ginger. 

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The house is dark when I arrive. Right, Nate is at Sophie's and Landon is who knows where, probably at a bar trying to get into another girl's pants. I snort and climb the steps to the door a little unsteadily.

I search my purse and find my keys, but my fingers don't want to cooperate and the keys drop on the ground. I lean over to grab then, and almost fall over in the process. Okay, maybe I had a little too much to drink. After another try I get a hold of them and push the right one in the lock. Except that it doesn't hit the keyhole. The key scrapes the lock hold as I try and try to get it in.

The door opens suddenly from the inside, making me jump and land on my butt on the snow. Landon's face peers at me under the porch light.

"Thought I heard someone," he says, looking at me amused. I growl at him and try to get up, but fail miserably. He cocks an eyebrow at me.

"A little too much to drink?" He laughs.

"You're one to talk," I scowl, noticing the half-empty tequila bottle in his hand. He looks at it and shrugs. "Some of us can hold our liquor."

He watches as I grab a hold of the railing and pull myself up, not lifting a finger to help. He does clap though.

"Fuck off," I snap and push past him in the house. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Someone's in a bad mood," he leans against the wall and watches as I struggle out of my jacket and boots. He takes a healthy gulp of the tequila.

"And someone's an ass," I flash him a bitchy smile as I head past him to the kitchen. He follows me.

"Do you mind?" I turn to him, growling.

"Not at all," he smiles and takes a seat, still following my every move.

"Why are you so annoying?" I huff, opening a random cabinet door in search of a glass.

"Wrong cabinet," he smiles smugly, crossing his arms. I glare at him, but close the door and open the one next to it. Jackpot. I take a glass and go fill it with water. When I turn to him again, he's still staring at me over his bottle.

"What's got your panties in a twist tonight?" he snickers.

"You," I snap back, leaning against the sink and taking a sip of the water.