Ryan
• • •
Seth parks outside an abandoned warehouse surrounded by other various warehouses. The parking lot is full of cars but the place is dark and eerily quiet.
"Did you bring me all the way out here to kill me?" I joke, nudging Seth playfully as we approached the looming building.
His expression grows deadly serious, so serious goosebumps pop up along my bare arms and my heart stutters in fear. "Maybe," he mumbles cryptically.
I stop in my tracks, not daring to take another step forward. My eyes graze over the too-tall heels strapped to my feet and I mentally curse. I'll never be able to run away in these death traps. I glance over at Seth, taking in his tall frame and question whether or not I could take him in a fight. I'm the least athletic person I know so me winning in a fight with Seth would be highly unlikely.
Seths deep chuckle interrupts my inner turmoil. I jerk my head up to watch him clutch his stomach and I glare in annoyance. I abruptly spin around on my heel and head back to his luxurious car. Yeah, no party for me.
His long fingers grip my forearm lightly, turning me around to face him with a gentle tug. "I was just playing with you babe, don't be so serious." He wiggles my shoulders, shaking me around a bit. "Loosen up, you're about to have the time of your life."
Seth guides me inside the dark warehouse and I blindly follow behind him as we stumble through, gripping his bicep tightly.
"Seth, I don't think there's a party here," I whisper.
You can't even see anything, it's literally so dark I can't see my hand in front of my face.
"Shh, I'm counting," he mumbles before resuming. We take a few more steps and then he stops. "Fifty," he mutters.
I hear the sound of a knob turning before he's pulling me down steps, the door slamming behind us. The space is so small I can't reach both my arms out without touching the walls on either side of us. He opens another door and music blares from the room, purple neon lights suddenly illuminating the small staircase as we step inside.
Talking Body by Tove Lo greets my ears. People are everywhere. The space is huge with girls grinding in cages suspended in the air. It looks like a club rather than a party.
Seth links our fingers together and pulls me to the dance floor in the middle of all the writhing
bodies. I can't help but smile as we dance. The vibe of this place is sensual yet fun, almost like a more laid-back club with a splash of grunge.
After a while we head to the bar.
"Two shots of tequila," Seth orders.
I shake my head. "Seth I'm not drinking."
"Just one shot." He smirks, handing the small shot glass to me.
One shot won't hurt I guess. I sigh, rolling my eyes but clink our glasses together and toss it back. Soon one shot turns into four and two and a half glasses of some fruity drink the bartender mixed up. This is why I don't drink, because once I do I can't stop, then I'm a sloppy mess waking up tied to my bed again.
I take a sip of my drink, laughing at Seth as he talks to a busty brunette a few stools down and she falls right into those brown eyes. The boy's got game. He gives her a smile, his dimples nearly making the girl swoon and my stomach clenches painfully. Maybe I drank too much...
"I can see your nipples," a rough voice says in my ear.
I spin around in surprise, a bit of my drink spilling over the rim of the cup as I do. Nixon is standing there, a serious look on his face while his blue eyes stare at my chest.
I tap my chin. "Hmm, maybe because I'm not wearing a bra?"
His eyes meet mine and they're bloodshot and his pupils are huge. Is he high?
"Why not? Feeling extra slutty tonight?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.
I smirk. "Oh yeah, Seth doesn't seem to mind either."
"Seth's here?"
I scrunch my eyebrows up in confusion. Can he not see Seth standing two feet behind me throwing out pickup lines on the brunette?
"Uh... yeah, he's right there." I point behind me, his eyes look frantic as he pulls me close to him. "Tell him you've found a ride home. You met up with a friend from class or something," he rushes, not even deterred by me trying to push him away.
"Why?" I question.
"Just do it and don't tell him I'm here. I'll be waiting by the door," he rushes and sprints off, disappearing in the crowd.
And for some reason I listen. Seth seems worried but lets me leave when I convince him it's a girl from class. I meet Nixon at the door, he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the building.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask once we're outside of the warehouse.
"To the dorm," he replies simply.
I stop abruptly, jerking my hand out of his grasp. "What the fuck, Nixon? I was having a good time!"
He spins around, a furious look on his gaunt face. "You don't need to be here, Seth shouldn't have brought you here," he growls lowly.
"Why?" I ask with a scowl.
He grips my biceps and leans in close. "You could get hurt, everyone in there is as high as a fucking kite and I'm not talking about weed, Ryan!"
I stare at his bloodshot eyes and study his face. He looks a lot more pale than when we first met. His cheeks are starting to sink in giving him an unhealthy look and there are dark circles under his eyes.
"And so are you," I mumble, immediately coming to that conclusion. "You're high, Nixon. What did you take? What happened to you?"
Someone who is constantly drunk and high is obviously fighting some serious demons. You don't do things that make you go numb for no reason.
He releases my arms and takes a big step back, running his fingers through his thick hair. "Come on."
"No."
He grows furious, clenching his fists at his sides. "Ryan, you're fucking pushing it. I will throw you over my shoulder and put your ass in my car whether you want me to or not. Now come the fuck on!"
"What did you take?" I demand, shoving him away from me.
He stumbles, barely catching his footing before steadying himself on two boot-clad feet. Normally there's no way I'd be able to make him stumble like that, he has to be pretty damn high.
He shakes his head. "Well, I tried." He grips my waist and tosses me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Put me down!" I scream hitting his back with my hands.
He stumbles and I squeal in fear. I'm going to kill him if he falls while carrying me. The parking lot does not look like it feels good.
"Nixon, if you drop me I swear—"
"Quit squirming and I won't," he grunts.
"What did you take, you can barely freaking walk in a straight line?"
He stays silent. I really, really, want to hit him in the face.... with a truck. Kelis is going to kill me if I don't tell her about this. Withholding something this big could be very bad for our friendship. Before I can blink my feet meet the ground and we're standing in front of a sleek black car that is almost identical to Seth's.
Unlike Seth, Nixon doesn't bother opening my door. He quickly unlocks the doors with his key fob and slips in the driver's seat.
I jerk the passenger door open and glare at him as he starts the car. "Nixon, I'm not getting in this car with you. There's no way it's safe for you to drive like this and I might hate you but I will not risk our safety just because you don't want Seth to see you."
I'm still feeling pretty drunk after all those tequila shots and fruity cocktails so I'm definitely not offering to drive.
Nixon groans, resting his head on the steering wheel. "Don't do this right now, Ryan. Not fucking right now. Just get in the damn car."
I sit down on the soft black leather seat, running my fingers through my wild hair. "Nixon I'm not being hateful with you like usual. I'm saying this for your own good, for our safety. You can't risk wrecking and either killing us or killing someone else."
"I can drive just fine, Ryan. You're seriously killing my buzz here," he groans.
I slam the door and snap my seatbelt, crossing my arms and pouting like a spoiled child. "Fine, take me to the dorm. Drive your stupid car while you're high, kill us both." I wait, listening to the purr of the cars engine. "Go Nixon, just drive the fucking car! Go ahead and wreck!" I scream.
Nixon growls, throwing his hands up and I quickly shut my eyes and shrink back in fear. My heart's beating so hard it's the only thing I can hear. I feel his large hands cup my face and then our lips meet. My heart stops. I'm momentarily stunned, frozen in time. His lips are firm yet soft and supple. They move against mine rhythmically, molded like they were made just for this purpose, just for kissing. Nixon is kissing me. Oh my god, Nixon is kissing me! My hands reach up, reacting as my mind clicks into place, my palms graze his pecs and I push him back.
Our lips separate and I'm panting like I've just run ten miles. My face heats up in embarrassment as realization truly dawns on me. Oh my god. Nixon just kissed me. He freaking kissed me! Stupid asshole! My lips burn, tingling as if his were still pressed against them. What is going on with him, what would possess him to kiss me when I was just yelling at him? It wasn't exactly an invitation.
"Son of a fucking bitch!" he yells and punches the dash of his car.
I jump at the action, gripping the leather seat for dear life. He's visibly pissed. His blue eyes like orbs of dark steel. He grips the steering wheel so tight I'm worried he's going to pull a Hulk move and rip it right out of the steering column.
He grips the gear stick and speeds out of the parking lot, shifting aggressively. I sigh in relief as he makes a proper turn and even uses his turn signal. I guess he is actually capable of driving while under the influence, not that he should. I'm just glad I won't be dying tonight. I glance up at his face and his bottom lip is inside his mouth, his brow furrowed.
Well this is awkward...