Chapter Seven

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"Touchdown!" I yell as I throw the Xbox controller onto the sofa.

I am currently at my apartment. Grayson is here as well and we are playing Madden. As of right now, I am beating him badly. He has yet to score and it is in the fourth quarter.

"Touchdown, home run, hole in one. Whatever it is I don't care," he says in an annoyed tone.

I am known to be this way when I get into a game. The competitive side just comes out of me and I can't handle it. It's almost as if I had a twin that was ten times worse than me.

"All right I'm done," he says as he gets up and shuts off the console.

"Want a beer?" I ask as I walk over to the fridge.

"Sure. Toss it to me." I toss the light can through the air and he catches it with ease.

"So, this Tori girl. When did you meet her?" I ask.

"A couple of weeks ago. I think she was hanging out with your ex, Brooklyn." Grayson takes a sip of his beer before sitting it back down on the counter. "Anyways, what are you doing back? I mean I know Brooklyn is getting married, but why would you come back?"

My excuse in my mind is the meeting, but my mother is now taking care of that. Why am I here? Did I expect to get Brooklyn back? I mean I had all this time to ask for her back. I just never did.

"I don't know. Honestly," I sigh. "There may be a side of me that thought she would be mine again."

"Well," he pauses. "If you need a distraction I would be more than happy to accompany you to the club."

"I don't think a club is what I need right now, Grayson," I say.

"Come on. There will be chicks and drinks," he cajoles.

"You have a girlfriend," I grunt, moving to lean against the counter.

"I am meaning for you. You should get back into the ring," he shrugs. "So, you are going and I will meet you at the club in an hour."

Grayson didn't even give me a moment to respond before he walks out the door.


My head was aching, my throat was burning, and my mind was spinning. On top of that, my heart was hurting. This trip was supposed to take her out of my mind. Now, it's all I can think about. Her lips. Her touch. It was like a trail of fire that wrapped itself around my brain.

It's not liked I haven't tried to get my mind off of her. I tried very hard, but any girl that showed interest was turned away. I found myself comparing them to Brooklyn. Their eyes weren't as blue, hair wasn't dark enough, and their skin wasn't beautifully golden like hers.

I was very frustrated and exhausted. On top of that, I was completely drunk. Even though I was on the verge of not even remember my name, I still am downing shots. It has gotten to the point where the bartender is hesitantly giving me one at a time. I am as shocked as he is about the fact that I am not on the floor.

"Hey." A girl comes up behind me and smiles. Her hand rests gently on my shoulder and I eye it.

I follow the unfamiliar arm and connect it with a face. Her makeup looked clownish, her dress didn't cover as much as it should of, and her hair looked to be a tangled mess. I would also have to be very drunk to not smell the horrible smell that is radiating off of her at the moment. It smelled like vomit and liquor.

With the smell alone mixing with alcohol I think I will vomit and I quickly scoot over to the next bar stool. Hopefully, she gets the hint, but sadly that hopefulness washes away, along with my sense of smell, when she takes it as a sign to sit beside me.

"Let's get out of here." Her hot, smelly breath tickles my ear.

I get up and she struggles to not fall since her body weight was mostly on me.

"Hey, where are you go-" She starts to gag.

I turn towards the exit with the world spinning and start to run. The smell of fresh air has never felt so good.

Now there is one more problem. I have no ride. Grayson is god knows where and doing god knows what. The drunken side of me wants to hop in my car that stands a couple of meters away, but a certain someone is screaming at me to not even think about it.

That someone may or may not be the girl I came here to forget about. Maybe I should call her? No. She is getting married and I can't change that. Just maybe one call...

I could use the company.

With that last thought, I took my phone out of my front pocket and press her name in my contacts list.

"Hey, Spencer." She seemed tired. What if I woke her?

"Hi, Brooklyn." I smile even though she can't see me. "I miss you."

"Are you drunk?" She questions through the phone.

"A little bit." I put about an inch space between my thumb and pointer finger.

"Stay where you are I am coming to get you. I mean it, don't move." She has panic in her voice and ends the call.

Then it dawns on me. I didn't give her the name of the bar I was at. Those worries wash away when I see her pull up on the side of the curb.

I get into the car and can't help but look at her. Pajama shorts showed off her long tan legs and a tank top gave me a view of her tanned shoulders. Images that I shouldn't be thinking of are coming up in my mind. It stays silent for most of the ride until we both reach to turn on the radio. That just makes this all awkward, but I secretly loved it. I haven't touched her like that in a year. I haven't touched her at all.

We pull up at my apartment building and I stumble out of the car.

"Spencer, you need to sleep this off. Please go straight to your room and do so." I nod a reply.

A smile breaks out on my face. She still cares after all this time. I was on cloud nine. Not just from being drunk, but from the way she made me feel. Too bad I won't remember this tomorrow. 

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