Given the Chance

Chapter Five: Again

Chapter Five: Again

The bar was busy that night, busier than usual. I had so much on my mind, and everything hurt just a little, so when the men started buying the bartender, me, drinks, I took a few of them. I couldn't get drunk on the job, but I sure as hell could get started, and with the day I'd had, all I wanted was to get drunk again, and maybe get fucked up enough to end up back in my best friend's bed.

I took a shot someone had bought me as the thoughts came back. I couldn't risk being back in Max's bed tonight. I still wasn't even fully recovered from last night, much less trying to make it happen again. Everything in me was screaming constantly, knowing everything was so wrong and so on edge, but at the same time, I'd never felt so connected during sex than I had been connected to Max. Even through the haze of drunken wills I knew that.

It was at that thought that I realized I needed another shot, so I undid another button on my blouse and helped the next customer.

I was tipsy when I walked out into the back parking lot at around two-thirty with half a bottle of Jack Daniels in my right hand and wad of tip money in my left. Max was leaning against his car, staring at me with his arms crossed as I walked back towards him.

"Hey beautiful," he spoke, watching me get closer. I giggled, taking another swig of whiskey, feeling it burn on its way down my throat.

"Hey," I said, stuffing the tips in my purse. Max watched me, his eyes tired but content.

"You were taking drinks tonight," Max noted. "You shouldn't do that too often. It makes your aim worse."

I smiled, taking another drink. "Oh I'll be fine," I laughed. "No Danielle?"

Max shook his head. "I just came from her place," he told me. "We're fighting."

I came closer. "Why? What happened?"

Max smiled slyly, uncrossing his arms and placing his hand on my hip. I shivered. "Well," he said. "I didn't wanna have sex with her," his matter-of-fact statement made me laugh. "She's not used to being denied, that's all. The princess didn't get what she wanted, so she threw me out."

I took another long drink, watching the lines of my vision get fuzzy and start to wave. "She's never been good for you," I told him, allowing his arm to slip around my waist and him to pull me closer. "She's got such an attitude."

Max made a small noise of agreement, looking down at me, his eyes soft. "Have you heard from Bryson?" he asked me, squeezing my hip. I laughed loudly and nodded, patting my phone in my back pocket.

"He's been calling and texting all night," I told Max, taking another drink. "Stuff like 'come home sexy girl, lets talk this out.' Sicko."

Max's grip got tighter. "I know you'll have to go get your stuff from his place at some point, but don't go alone," he whispered. "Take me with you just in case he tries something. I'll kill him, Tally."

I snorted. "You can't kill him."

Max looked at me, his face set in stone. "Baby I'm dead serious," he spoke. "If he comes anywhere near you like that again, I'm going to kill him."

Max's serious tone knocked me backwards a little bit, sobering me slightly as I watched him. He was angry, not at me, but at Bryson. It occurred to me suddenly that he wasn't joking, not even in the slightest bit, and this side of Max both terrified me and turned me on all at the same time.

"Easy Max," I said. My best friend shook his head a bit, trying to smile just a bit. He suddenly leaned forward, off his car, opening his passenger side door for me.

"Where am I taking you, beautiful?" Max asked, helping me into the vehicle. I shrugged, and I saw his eyes sparkle. "'My place?" he asked. I made myself slowly nod, rather than jump at the idea, and he grinned.

"Buckle up baby. We're going home."

* * * * *

"Pull over."

I looked over at Max's confused expression, and I giggled. My bottle of whiskey was almost gone now, and I was feeling so very lonely in the passenger seat. My best friend didn't question me, slowly pulling into the parking lot of an old laundromat. It was closed for the night, and my drunken brain was doing the thing I knew was wrong but so desperately wanted to do anyway.

Max looked over at me, putting the car in park. "What's wrong, Tally?" he spoke. I giggled again.

"Baby..."

Max was suddenly very aware that I'd put my hand on his inner thigh, and I watched a rush flow through his body. He looked at me, but he looked at me differently, looked at me with lust in those dark brown eyes. He was sober, but I definitely wasn't, and my inebriated logical processes decided that was good enough to end up back where I shouldn't be.

I climbed into the backseat, and Max was right behind me, crawling over me and crashing his lips against mine in the darkness of his car. I felt his hand running up my shirt, pressing us chest to chest, and everything seemed so much warmer than it had five seconds ago. God knew if I did this it sure as hell wouldn't be the last tonight, but I was too damn hormonal to wait until we got back to his place. I craved him, craved his lips and his hands and his body all around me, and I'd be damned if I was gonna sit and patiently wait for him to come to me.

So we had rough, half-clothed sex in the back of his car, and when he finally managed to get me home, we had rough, naked sex on his living room couch, and then rounded off the night with slow, easy sex in his bed. By the the second time I had sobered up just a bit, and fuck did he feel even better sober. Every second spent holding him in my body like that felt so wrong but so right, and every line between the two had become so blurred and so mangled that I couldn't have cared less so long as he never let me go.

"That was..." Max trailed off after our third in his bed, looking down at where I laid on his chest. I laughed lightly, tracing patterns on his cheek.

"So wrong," I said. "So very wrong."

Max grinned. "But God did it feel right."

I laughed. "We're so screwed, Max."

My best friend shrugged, adjusting the blanket around our waists. "Just another drunken mistake," he winked. I snorted.

"More like three more drunken mistakes," I told him. "Besides, that hardly counts if only one of us was drunk to start."

Light was slowly filtering in through Max's window, signs of the rising sun. Sleepiness was pulling at my eyes, and I slowly let them slip closed, feeling Max press a slow, warm kiss against my forehead.

"Rest for now, Tally," he whispered against my skin. "Eventually we'll talk about what this means."

I nodded, and before I could do much else, everything faded into the warm realm of slumber.