James
There was a reason why I decided not to drink alcohol at the wedding.
It's 1 a.m., the wedding's about to end, and Lara is still partying on the dance floor with three groomsmen. After all this time, I'd never thought she'd be the one with the largest alcohol tolerance out of all of us.
Mark taps me on the shoulder, and I turn back abruptly. He gestures to the others-Kiera, Carol, and Daniel-before saying, "They were just asking you about the new team that you're on. How do you like it?"
"Oh, um, it's really good. The people are great. I mean, there's this one guy who's kind of arrogant, but other than that, everything's fine."
Satisfied with my response, they nod, and I glance back at Lara.
I look at Daniel, who gives me a knowing smile. "After all these years, you still can't pay attention to us when she's around."
Kiera and Carol start to giggle, trying to hide it, but fail miserably.
Suddenly the room heats up.
"Guys, I'm totally paying attention to you. It's just, it's 1 a.m. and it's been a tiring 48 hours." I lie, and judging by their smiles, they see right through it.
"Okay then." Mark comments.
"But just out of curiosity, who are those guys with her?" I finally ask.
Kiera smiles. "They're friends of Jasmine's but Lara knows them too. She went to school with them."
"Heard they're hella smart too. You see the one with black hair?" Carol starts.
She points to a tall lanky guy, dancing like a limp noodle. I stare at him. He says something that sends Lara laughing like crazy.
It probably wasn't that funny. I mean, she's drunk.
"Well," she continues, "He did biomedical engineering at one of the most competitive programs in the country. Graduated with top honours."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"The guy with the red tie? He just scored a huge deal for graphic design. He's in charge of a Nike campaign."
I don't even reply. I only glare at the guy, whom Lara's eyeing like he's some sort of greek god.
Next, Carol points at the blonde one, probably only a few inches shorter than I am and muscular built. "That guy followed her all the way to Med school."
My jaw drops. "What do you mean follow? Carol, if he's stalking her, you guys gotta get the police involved. We don't have time to wait for something to-"
"Can you and your blue balls chill for 3 seconds?" Carol almost yells, before laughing.
I frown.
"Relax man. No, he's not a stalker, just a suitor. Now calm yourself."
I almost get lightheaded. This is way worse than a stalker.
I look back to find her gone.
She finally leaves the dancefloor, and I think she's on her way back to our table, when she curves right back to the bar.
I decide that she has probably had enough intoxication for one night and block her before she gets to the counter.
She looks up at me with bloodshot eyes.
"Mooooove," she whines, slapping my arm.
I almost laugh as she staggers around me. It just seems so ironic that the good girl reputation she held in high school vanishes completely when she sees a free bar.
"I think you've had enough," I tell her.
"Nooooope...I'm still-still sober." she argues, pushing me away
"Um, no you're not," I state.
I motion for the bartender to cut her off of the drinks and he nods.
"Dude, you're absolutely wasted. You need to go home."
At hearing that, she rams her head on my chest, causing me to let out a pained grunt.
I see Kiera walk by. I motion for her to come over. "Hey, I really think you should take her home when you and Daniel leave."
Kiera shakes her head. "Can't, we're going the very opposite direction. Hamilton's too far."
"She lives in Hamilton?" I exclaim.
"Unfortunately so. She's kinda far from all of us. Studies there too."
I sigh. "Who's gonna bring her then?"
Kiera shrugs. "I'll ask Luca since they live in the same area."
As she turns around to blondilocks, I grab her hand. "Wait, wait, wait. Just give me her address and I'll drop her off, okay?"
She raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure? It's far."
"It's better than to risk her life in a car with a drunk driver."
Kiera frowns again. "Luca didn't drink tonight because he assumed that he'd have to drive back with my alcoholic friend."
"I'm NOT drunk." Lara mumbles against my tuxedo, probably drooling as well.
"Sure you aren't, hon." Kiera comments with an eyeroll.
"Well we never know, do we? Safest thing is for me to drive her home." I tell her.
She nods, pulling out her phone. "Here's her address and the keys to her apartment are in her bag. Good luck."
My phone vibrates and I look at the message that Kiera sent.
"Thanks Kiera. I'll see you guys in a bit then. Tell everyone we had to go."
"No problem."
Lara and I walk out of the banquet hall, her staggering and me supporting her.
"You look so familiar." she laughs, poking my cheek dimple.
"Do I?" I ask, bemused.
"You're from my high school, weren't you?" she slurs.
"I was. I left though."
"I was sad." she says quietly, so soft that I almost don't hear it.
"Me too." I admit.
We continue walking until we get to the car. She slides into the passenger seat and I buckle her seatbelt for her. I get into the driver's seat and start the car.
"You're famous now, right?" she asks, causing me to smile again.
"Not really, but I play pro hockey if that's what you mean."
"Nice... I'm gonna be a doctor. A good one." she nods slowly.
"I'm sure you will be."
I smile, watching her head fall to the side, and her seemingly heavy eyelids closing. Even in her most drunken state, she's still beautiful. I know that she's still a genius, and her compassion will make her a wonderful doctor.
Sadly, I realize that I'm still in love with her, although she must've moved on.
After more than an hour, we finally pull up to her apartment complex. I lift her from the car, and begin walking to the place.
"Put me down, Babe," she slurs, and I can't help but sport a grin on my face.
We get to the floor of her place, and I start wandering around, searching for the number of her apartment. I finally see it, and pull the keys out of her purse.
Unlocking the door, we go inside and I gently place her body on the couch, occupying the rather small living room.
She groans, but I take a seat beside her.
"Lara, do you need anything? If you don't, I'll just go-"
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I mean, really unexpectedly, I feel her soft lips on mine. I am in shock as she presses her lips against time, so much that I don't even move or close my eyes.
After the situation registers in my head, my hands find their way to her waist, and I hold her close against me. She throws her arms around my neck and I kiss her like we're 16 again. We find ourselves in a rather compromising situation, but it seems that neither of us mind.
It feels almost unreal. After 7 years, she's back in my arms. She's kissing me, and I don't have to worry about leaving her.
But she's still drunk.
We stop and catch our breaths for a minute.
She leans forward again, but this time, I stand up before things go too far.
She looks at me confused, before laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" I ask, but she only continues to laugh.
"You're like, so, I dunno..." she trails off.
"I think you should go to bed, and I'll show myself out." I say abruptly, not wanting to continue anything when she can barely speak fluent English.
Her face falls. "Why? Are you going back to England?"
I sit back down and take her hand. "No, I just don't want anything to happen between us that you're not fully aware of. You're extremely intoxicated."
"Am not." she spits bitterly, like a toddler.
"You definitely are."
"I'm gonna change, but don't leave me." With that, she staggers into the bedroom.
I flip through my phone as I wait for her to finish. Moments later, she comes out with an oversized shirt and some shorts.
"Your turn. I'm gonna sleep." is all she says before pointing to the washroom.
I stay in place, and when I don't move, she shoves me to the front door.
"Get your stuff, come back and change, and I'll be here." she orders. For a drunk person, she's fairly direct.
Like that, she flops back on her bed and gives me a look that says, go.
So I do.
It doesn't take me long to do as she says and get my stuff. After changing, I make my way to the couch, but she pulls my arm back to her bedroom.
"What are you doing?" I sigh.
"Sleep beside me."
"Why?"
"Because I miss you." she utters directly, and I feel my face heating up.
Thank God she's drunk.
We slide beneath the blankets, and shuffle until we're both comfortable. Her head finds its way into the crook of my arm, and I give her a last kiss on the head before we drift off to sleep.