an eyebrow. “Just try it.”
Whatever. I unscrew the cap and take a sip. The liquid bites my tongue and scorches the back of my throat. I look at Shoshanna. “Is this vodka?”
She smiles. “You know I don’t like beer. But don’t tell anyone—that’s my parents’ one rule: beer only. It’s like they think there’s a limit to how drunk beer can get you or something.”
I laugh. “You know what? They might be right.” I take another long swig of the vodka. It tastes better now that I’m prepared for it.
We sit there, sharing the “Fanta” until it’s all gone and I’m wasted out of my mind. My face feels hot and cold at the same time, and my hands feel like they’re made of pipe cleaners and putty. I move the empty bottle around in front of my face, trying to make my eyes focus. The conclusion of my very scientific experiment is that four inches away from my nose is the sweet spot. Any closer or farther and the bottle becomes a jumbled blob of orange.
Shoshanna rests her head on my shoulder and drapes a leg across my lap. Her hair smells like hair spray.
I run my putty hand over her leg. She’s wearing a skirt, and I’m able to travel all the way to the top of her thigh without touching any fabric. When I get to the bottom of the skirt, I keep going, underneath, and cup her ass. She rolls into me so she’s almost on my lap and presses her mouth to mine.
Oh yes. This is exactly what I need. The best feelings in the world, without having to feel anything emotional. Shoshanna’s a nice person, but, you know, she’s not someone I’ll ever fall in love with. We make out like crazy people for a while, then Shoshanna grabs my hand and pulls me up off the love seat. “Come on.” She leads me in the direction of her bedroom.
When we get there, she pulls her shirt over her head, pushes me down onto the bed, and crawls on top of me. It may not be very manly, but I’m perfectly okay with her taking the reins on this whole thing. My brain synapses are so delayed that it seems like it takes about a year for my body to respond to anything my brain tells it to do.
Shoshanna presses her body against me and kisses me again. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Ryden,” she whispers against my lips. “I’ve missed you so much. I knew we’d get back here eventually.”
She pulls my shirt off and unbuttons my jeans, leaving a trail of kisses down my chest, going farther and farther south. Good feelings. Only good feelings.
Her mouth is just at the top of my boxers when the door to her bedroom opens.
I don’t look to see who it is. I don’t care at this point. I’m so blasted the house could be on fire and the only thing I’d be able to focus on is the feel of Shoshanna’s tongue on my skin.
“I can’t freaking believe this,” Dave says. I finally cut my eyes to the doorway. He’s silhouetted in the dim light of the hallway so I can’t see his face—and let’s be honest, I wouldn’t be able to focus on his face right now even if this place were lit up like Times Square. But his voice sounds pretty messed up. Like, half heartbroken and half wasted and half pissed as all hell. Wait, I think that’s too many halves.
“Dave, shit.” Shoshanna climbs off me and puts her shirt back on. “I…we’re really drunk. I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…” She starts walking toward him, but he backs away.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you knew exactly what you were doing, Shoshanna,” he says. “I want to speak with Ryden.”
I’ve managed to sit up, but it’s the staying upright part that’s giving me a problem. Forget about trying to put my shirt back on. Why are shirts so complicated, anyway? So many holes for your arms and your head.
“Dave, don’t…” I hear Shoshanna say, but he pushes past her and marches over to me.
“Stand up,” he commands.
“Uh…”
“Stand up, Ryden.”
“Not…sure…I can,” I say.
Dave sighs. “Fine.” And he punches me. Actually punches me, right in the fucking face. My cheek explodes, and I fall back on the bed, clutching my face, but my putty hands aren’t doing a damn thing to ease the pain.
“Dave!” Shoshanna screams and tries to pull him away.
“Get off me, Shoshanna. Ryden