Stumbling Across an Ass
Monday, 13th of December, 2010
I was running late. Very late. In fact, I was running approximately two hours, three minutes and forty-nine seconds late. And not for work. No, for a wedding. And not just any wedding – my mothers. My mother's fourth wedding to be exact.
At least she wouldn't really notice that I am not there; there will be around two-hundred more people there besides me. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course she will notice me missing – I am a bridesmaids.
You are probably thinking – Well, isn't she a little bitch for missing her mother's wedding when she is in fact a part of the wedding party. – I know already. Although, not that I deserve to have an excuse this time around but I do have one as my being this late was not my fault.
You see, last night my two sisters and I had this massive party – of only us three – and went around town to every bar we saw chugging a beer and downing a shot. Oh and there weren't only two bars, there were seventeen. Seventeen. I don't fully recall what happened after the twelfth, though I know that I stopped chugging beers, I only took downed shots. I was consequently unbelievably gone.
Looking into the mirror after my quick shower, I started to apply my make-up lightly, making sure it still looked natural. Oh, and to cover up the three hickeys, dark hickeys, along my collar bone.
Now again, the drinking wasn't the reason as to why I was late – the man was. You see, we stumbled into this impeccably well dressed man – the name of said man is still unknown – around the eighth bar into our little trail and he just happened to follow us from bar to bar after that little run in. And no, not simply watch us from afar either. He would follow us into the bar, sit next to one of us and try to chat us up. I mean – needy much?
And it didn't stop there, by the thirteenth bar, or so I believe, he had finally latched onto one of us – Me. God only knows why I let him. The next four bars we barely walked, more like crawled, our way into linked with this man. When we downed our shots, my arm was still linked through his. When we made our way out and to the next bar, I was still linked to him.
At the final stop – the seventeenth bar – I finally let go of him but only so I could find good use of the bathroom then I was back by his side like my life depended on him. Then after travelling to his home to lay my delicate head on a fluffy pillow to get some shut eye, was the problem.
Piling my hair atop my head in a messy yet neat bun I grunted at my obvious sleepless, hung-over, annoyed expression that could not be rid of on my face. And to make matters worse I still had very red, swollen lips and large, dark, visible hickeys. Damn, I was going to be swimming in deep shit for this.
So, back to last night's story.
Stumbling and joking in a very drunken matter through his house towards a bed, any bed, I had been pushed roughly up against the wall, between him and the wall. This was followed by rough, forceful, drunken kisses up and down my neck, jaw and even more roughly upon my lips then being tugged towards his bed to obviously follow through with his wants and needs for the night as I hope you can guess. Not saying that this was a bad thing necessarily, there was nothing wrong with him or that we didn't use protection or anything.
The problem was that I had barely managed to get any sleep at all seems as we hadn't even arrived at his house until around four in the morning. And of course he had work or something early – or not that early – that morning as his alarm went off at precisely, 8:52am. Damn early mornings all to eternal hell. Just as he bid me farewell at 10:28am did I remember that I had my mother's wedding to attend at exactly midday that day.
Ignoring all his questioning as I ran out of his house for good, I was glad to find that he lived maybe only five to ten minutes from my lovely apartment making it easier for me to get ready in time. At least God wasn't completely against me.
Carefully slipping my floor-length, cream silk dress I saw that I had exactly fifty minutes to finish getting ready and drive a forty-five minute drive to this stranded location so I hastily pulled up the dress, almost ripping it, put on my much too high heels, grabbed my clutch and made a run for my car.
*
"Well, well, well, look at what – no, who – we have here." I heard from behind me, almost immediately feeling an arm snake around my waist and gently pushing me towards the dance floor. Looking around at the man behind me I found fiery brown eyes staring down at me, assessing me under a heap of black, hair hanging over his eyes.
Would you like to know who these fiery brown eyes belonged to? Oh and I can't forget that silky soft clump of hair atop his head. The man who caused me to be sitting by myself, drinking away my anger from being scolded over and over by not just my mother but my new step dad and both of their families – the man from last night.
"Don't look at me with such anger, sweetie, you know you had a good time last night." He said with a wink of his eye, a smug look growing among his features. By this point we had ended up in the centre of the dance floor and he had put his arms tightly, though snugly, around my waist without me noticing.
"Oh, honey, a man is paying you attention. The least you could do is put your arms around his neck and not leave them limp by yours sides. Tsk tsk." My aunt said from beside me, both her and my uncle giving me suggestive looks. Is she stupid? I have had millions more men by my side since I finished school four years ago than her own daughter and she is telling me that. How rude.
I will show her that she is very wrong. Very, very wrong. I snaked my arms tightly around this nameless mans neck and pulled him flush against me, giving my aunt a look to say 'I know what I am doing', making her flee away with her partner.
"So, what is your name, daughter of the bride?" He said with a smirk and an evil twinkle in his eyes, pulling me even closer to him though I don't know how he managed that. I didn't bother to answer him, just ripped myself out of his hold and walked off towards my table.
Sitting down beside my cousin I saw a knowing look appear on her face as she smiled in my direction. "What?" I snapped in her direction. I don't know why I did; Hana was always my favourite cousin. I will just blame all this sudden anger on that strange man who can't help but – but stalk me.
"I see you have met Brock." She simply said, assuming I would know who she is talking about. Well, I obviously don't.
"Who?"
"Brock – the guy you were just dancing with…" She said slowly as if talking to a five year old.
"And?"
"His father is the best man at this wedding – the best friend of your mother's new husband. I am guessing you will now be seeing more of him. Much more." She said with a arrogant look among her face, jerking her head towards the best man and my new step dad. So he must have known who I was the whole time. And my name. What an ass.
Well, I certainly could have lived without this piece of information. He will probably be at all the parties from now on, all the family and friends gatherings, maybe even Christmas. Realising this, I downed the rest of my wine and made my way towards the exit, angry over this unnecessary change in my life. This unnecessary addition in my life.
Thursday, 23rd of December, 2010
Today, just like I had guessed, our family were having a 'small' Christmas celebration. Small being around fifty of us. And of course Brock just happened to be attending. Although, I had successfully managed to avoid him for the past hour and a half, simply sitting upstairs in my old room, wrapping my Christmas presents that will be going to my family for under their tree as I won't be seeing them until New Years Eve.
A knock sounding from the door broke me from my trance yet the person didn't wait for my reply, they just marched on in. "Becca?" Came from the tall male figure standing in the doorway.
"Uh, yes?"
Next thing I knew his large, calloused hands were around my upper arms and I was being hoisted to my feet. Before I could protest or get a word out, my lips were smacked by his, though the kiss was gentle and soothing, taking away all my built up anger.
Pulling away he murmured into my hair, melding our bodies together, "You can't keep avoiding me, Becca. Not for long."
"Brock, you are a creep and an ass and – and – and – why are you laughing at me?" I huffed, pushing him away and crossing my arms over my chest.
"You are amazing at name calling." He said, doubling over with more laughter.
"Get out. Get out. Get out. God, just leave me alone!" I screamed, stomping my foot.
"But you like me." He said with pouted lips which looks just adorable, by the way, but that isn't the point. The point is that he said this as if he were stating a fact when in fact he didn't know –couldn't know – that. Crazy man.
"Oh, I can assure you, you are very wrong." I said with a final push, making him leave the room and slamming the door in his face. "Leave me alone." I said silently to the door still trying to get that god awful – no, I can't lie, it was amazing – out of my head. This man is taking over my mind. Why oh why?
Friday, 31st of December, 2010
The room was spinning. To the extreme. I couldn't stop drinking. I think I was up to my fourteenth beer now. He – Brock – had been dancing with skimpily dressed girls all nights, though every time he did, every time he switched partners, his glazed over eyes would connect with mine. I swear he could read my every though, feeling and feel all my movements as if I were the girl he was dancing with.
I don't know why this had affected me so much but ever since that kiss in my childhood bedroom a little over a week ago, I couldn't seem to get it or him out of my head. He was swimming around my every thought, suffocating me.
As I made my way back up to that childhood room of mine five minutes before the clock struck midnight I could feel my eyes brimming with tears, threatening to fall. Why is he effecting me so much? Just because I want him to be my New Years Eve kiss – and more.
Sinking down to the floor, I leant back against my bed ashamed at the feelings bottling up inside of me. I looked down at my phone, three minutes and it would all be over, well his kiss to whichever girl would certainly last longer than that but still, I can leave as soon as the clock strikes midnight otherwise my sisters will be screaming at me for leaving so early. Even though it will only be a three –now two – minutes difference.
Resting my eyes for a few seconds, I hear the floorboards below me creak and somebody is crouching over me in a sort of possessive manner. I look up to find those now familiar fiery brown eyes which had now softened to a caramel colour, making me even angrier that those girls have such an affect over his emotions like he does mine.
"5, 4…." He mumbled, leaning closer and closer though careful not to fall on me. "2…" He kissed me softly, sweetly, passionately instead of saying the last digit. Wow, he must be very strange to be kissing me instead of those skimpy girls downstairs. They are probably all getting torches and pitchforks reading to kill me with for stealing their man. A moment later, the kiss was over, leaving me wanting more, so much more. Though, he stayed mere centimetres away from me, watching me stare blankly at him.
"I told you, Becca, you can't keep avoiding me." He stared down at me with a smile on his face and shining eyes, though that might just be because of the lighting in the room above us. "Not for long." He finished, his lips descending back down towards mine.
A/N: I have no idea about this one-shot, it just typed itself away. Although, I do think it needs more, I am not sure though. I will come back to it later and meddle with it most likely.
Review? Please and thank you. :)