Forbidden Sparks

[chapter ten]

| Forbidden Sparks |

[chapter ten]

(Acacia's p.o.v)
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          "A man's true character comes out when he's drunk." Charlie Chaplin once said that, you know? And he was right.

Brody's strong hold on my hand continued until we were all the way outside and even walked down the block a bit. "Where are we going?" I stumbled as I tried to follow as quickly as I can. It was hard to walk as fast as him with these damn boots on. The price of beauty, I guess.

"Away from everyone, so we can talk," he let out. As we walked, the music became more faint in the distance and the street was mostly empty because everyone was either passed out in the lawn, or in the party.

"Ugh, I'm freezing. And I'm drunk. Not my favorite combination!" I whined. I didn't want to be out here. I wanted to be inside with my friends and Miles, not worrying about this. Who am I trying to kid, here? Of course I wanted to be out here with him. But I also was so curious to see what he wanted to say. It was nice to see him so desperate to talk to me. And it didn't help that his hands were intertwined perfectly with mine right now. Dear god, I hope this is the alcohol talking. (We all know I'd be thinking these things soberly too.)

He stopped and quickly took off his brown leather jacket, leaving him in only short sleeves and put it around my shoulders, "Here take it." Great. A gentleman too.

"Um, thanks," I said as I stumble onto him a bit, "sorry like I said, drunk."

He let out a small chuckle of amusement at my state. "Don't laugh!"

"I'm sorry! I forgot what you're like when you're drunk." He smirked. Oh, great, here he goes again with that sexy smirking. I might as well start unzipping this cat suit now.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I playfully hit him in the chest. Well maybe not so playfully, I may have used some extra force just for all the extra stress he's caused me this week.

"I don't know. You're just funny," Brody looked actually amused by me, plus he also has been hitting the bottle, so at this point anything could be funny.

"Well, you know I'm quite hilarious sober, too."

He stepped closer. Oh, no. I see where this is going. But I can't bring myself to step away. Because I don't want to, and also because I can't walk in these shoes.

"That it true," he looked at me deeply. No, not deeply, anything but deeply. Can't he just not make eye contact? Or better yet, just completely don't look at me with those eyes that I can feel famously undressing me. What is he doing? Why am I letting his stupid perfect face and charm sway me right now. I'm supposed to be angry at him. And his stupid face. I can't even look at it, it's so stupid.

And by that I mean, I can't stop staring at it because it's so fucking perfect. I mean really? Who thought it'd be good idea to give him a face sculpted by angels and the body of a Greek God? Who would do this to women?

"Remember that time we got drunk in my parents' basement, and Aspen passed out," he started.

I let a small smile dance across my face, "Yeah, and I totally drank you under the table that night." I muttered.

"Um, okay. Slow down, I remember I drank you under the table!"

"In your dreams, buddy. I've always been able to out drink you,"

"You know what? I'd like to put that the test." He smirked with a hint or arrogance.

"Oh, would you now?"

He looked at me for a moment, coming up with what quip he was about to hit me with.

"Yes, I would. Tonight. Drinking contest. The first one to either vomit, pass out, or no longer have any basic normal human functions, loses."

"Okay, I like it. And what exactly do I get when I win?"

"Me, of course,"

"I'm going to need something better than that if I'm about to make a complete fool of myself,"

"Okay how about this, if you win, which you wont," he obviously had to assure me, "I'll leave you alone. Never tell Aspen, and we go about this whole situation however you decide, even if that means forgetting it ever happened. But when I win, you're going to let me take you on an actual, proper date."

His terms and conditions made me heart swell. A date? That's only what I've been dreaming about practically everyday since I was twelve.

But then on there other hand, here's my out. My opportunity for us both to swear to secrecy and never go as far as discuss these rendezvous' again. To start fresh, keep my friendship the same way, maybe start a possible thing with Miles.

"Deal. But just don't be a sore loser about it when I beat your ass," I said as he once again held my small hand in his, and started to lead the way back to the house.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Didn't he go all Hulk and pull me out here to talk? How did this became a bet. "Wait, you wanted to talk didn't you?" My words caused him to stop.

"We'll have enough time to talk on our date," he said, causing me roll my eyes infinitely. There he is with his confidence just assuming he could take me on a date against my will. But I followed him back into the big frat house, whipped out a bottle of Patron, and got this show on the road.

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Author's note:

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment, would love to hear your thoughts. Second update in a day, wow!

xx