Book Two - Just Enjoying My Life.... Right? (Completed)

Chapter 12

Hi everyone, here's chapter 12 at long last. Sorry for the delay, I've been editing a novel I'm sending to publishers. Now that it's done I thought I'd update. I hope to udpate a bit quicker next time. I hope you enjoy! <3

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Downing the last of my drink, I stand up and have to grab the barstool to stop myself from toppling over. I can barely feel my legs! The barman glances at me quizzically and I think he asks if I’m ok but I can barely comprehend him. I just giggle like an idiot and say something that sounds like ‘I’m fine’. I clumsily look around the club and spot Nancy and Jason still at it on the dance floor. It’s been at least an hour and a half since we arrived and they haven’t stopped. The advantage is they won’t see me leave, they’re so wrapped up in each other.

I stumble toward the door where Ricardo left out of, smiling flirtatiously at all the good looking Spaniards on the way out. I can’t believe how many people are noticing me here! Then again I’ve never been a real party girl so I’ve never known how much attention I can get from men. The answer is, a lot! And damn does it feel good! I can pick up pretty much anyone I want. With a few drinks under my belt of course. Then again, isn’t that the fun of it?

Reaching the door, I push on it and stumble out into the cold night air. Ricardo is standing against a car directly opposite the door, his arms folded across his chest. God he’s so good looking. Seriously, Archi has nothing over Ricardo! Opening the right hand side door Ricardo gestures for me to get in. I’m momentarily stumbled by this and think he’s asking me to drive then I remember we’re in Spain. They drive on the right hand side, not the left. I stumble over and get in. Well I trip in and Ricardo has to help me get my legs in because I can’t seem to control them. He gets a good look at them though and he eyes me seductively.

“You are a beautiful woman, Emily.” He says stroking my cheek. “Let me show you how beautiful you really are.”

He walks around to the other side of the car and gets in. When he asks which motel I’m staying at, I mumble something incomprehensible but he understands me and speeds off. Why he wants to go back to the motel I don’t know. If I was sober I would not be going back to the motel, I’d be asking to go back to his place. But I’m not sober am I? Or am I? Why am I having a conversation with myself if I’m not sober? Because I’m drunk! Oh I crack myself up sometimes, especially when I’m drunk. Am I really drunk? No I think I’m sober because I’m talking to myself. Or maybe that’s a sign of being drunk.

Oh god.

I groan and place my head between my knees as a wave of nausea rips through me. I really shouldn’t try and think about something that requires so much brain power when I’m so drunk.

The nausea doesn’t go away, in fact it only worsens as Ricardo speeds through the streets of Madrid. He must be really turned on because I have never known anyone to drive so fast.

He turns another corner so fast my stomach literally lurches and there is no keeping my vomit down. It comes up in a wave of hot alcohol and some chips I ate earlier. Oh god this is the worst kind of vomit in the world.

Ricardo looks at me in horror and yells, “Not in the car!”

Then he pulls the car over so quickly it pushes me forward and I hit my head on the dash. I groan from pain and go to rub my head but another wave of nausea rips through me and my stomach heaves up what feels like another 10 litres of vomit.

The door next to me opens and someone, who I presume is a very angry Ricardo, drags me out and drops me onto the road. I land in a heap just in time to see an angry yet horrified Ricardo running back to the car. Then he speeds off, leaving me lying in a puddle on the road. Oh wonderful, what a gentleman. NOT! He’s going to pay if I ever see him again.