Rose's POV
Andy and Pete went to go buy various items for the party: chips, snacks, soda, and alcohol. Lots of alcohol.
My head was on Patrick's shoulder and my eyes were closed.
"Patrick?" I question, my hands tracing the stitching on my jeans.
"Yeah?"
"I really missed you. I barely ever get to spend any time with you like this, Pete hates quietness."
"I missed you too, Flora."
I found his hand and held it, comfortably. We sat in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. It felt natural just sitting here, enjoying the other person's company.
I liked Patrick, but no more than a friend. I once did have feelings for him, but he never mentioned anything about him having any towards me so I kept my mouth shut.
Plus, I could never imagine having a relationship with him anyway. We've been friends for so long, I just couldn't imagine having a romantic relationship with him.
Pete walks through the door, bags in hand. I jump up to help, but I was pushed gently back down by Patrick.
"I got it, relax." He says to me, and I listen. No use in arguing, he'll stop me anyway.
As the 3 boys come inside and set the bags on the table, a happy Joe comes out of his room. There's a burrito in his hand, and I laugh because it's half-eaten, and the other half is stuffed in his mouth.
"You were in your room this whole time because you wanted to eat a burrito?" I question, raising an eyebrow.
"Yep." He says with a mouthful of food.
"Ew! Gross." I say, turning away from him.
"Problem, Trescott?" He questions, and in a matter of seconds, I feel all of his body weight on my back.
"Ouch! Get offa me!"
"Apologize."
"Fine. Joe, I'm really sorry. Okay?" I suddenly feel all the weight being lifted off my back and I stick my tongue out at him, making him glare.
The boys emerge from the kitchen, vodka for them and rum for me.
We all have solo cups in our hands, not very classy but we didn't care.
We all sat on the couch, Joe, Pete, me, Patrick, and Andy.
I'm 25 years old and it still takes me only a couple cups of alcohol and I would be tipsy. The boys can hold themselves a little better, but not by much.
**********
After a couple cups of alcohol, the boys were all asleep except for me, Pete, and Patrick.
Pete headed to his room to 'think about stuff," whatever that means.
Patrick and I were getting more touchy-feely than normal, and to be honest I kind of enjoyed it. This kind of attention was exactly what I wanted. Just not from him. But right now, I'm too drunk to care.
He had one hand on my cheek and the other on the small of my back. I had no idea what his intentions were, but I still enjoyed this.
"Patrick, I love you." I say, and even though I was drunk, I said it to him on a regular basis, meaning just as friends.
"I love you too, Flora." He replies, whispering.
Before I knew it, his lips were on mine.
I didn't kiss back, but I didn't pull away either. I was contemplating whether I liked this or not. I don't like Patrick. I don't. I like how his lips felt. Man, he was a good kisser.
This felt wrong, and I loved every minute of it.
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Hey guys! Ohhhhhh cliffhanger. I promise I'll update soon. Love you all ❤️- Keri
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