The Hustler [Alex Gaskarth]

Chapter Seventeen: The New Year

     At first, I wasn't quite sure what I saw. Then, when I was sure, I had no idea of what to do about it. After all, Alex was supposed to be my boyfriend. Then again, Lucy was my best friend, and I had been keeping it a secret that I was dating her biggest celebrity crush of all time.  

     Did that constitute it as okay to let her make out with him while she was drunk? 

     I couldn't decide. Luckily, Alex did for me. He oh-so-subtly pulled away and slid his bar stool slightly away from hers. 

     Lucy seemed surprised, then burst into hysterical laugh-crying. What was I supposed to do for that?

     Lucy is my best friend. What else could I do but rush to her side to make sure she was okay?

     "Luce? Lulu?" I said gently, touching her back. Her head lolled forward, and the majority of her weight shifted onto me. 

     "Air," she giggled. "I kissed him. I kissed Alex Gaskarth and he didn't pay me." 

     "What the fuck?" Alex asked softly. "What are you talking a-" 

     "She's drunk, 'Lex," I reminded him. 

     "I'm not drunk. I am a grown lady and ladies don' get drunk," Lucy's hysterics went on. "Airie, tell him about Jack. It was Jack that made you do it. I would have done it for free." 

     "Done what?" 

     "Been your girlfriend." 

     Fuck. 

     I looked over at Alex as panic flooded my veins. At first, his expression remained confused. Then, calculating. 

     And finally... laughing? 

     "Nah, I like the paid kind better," Alex told her. "They can never leave you." 

     Wait, what? He knew? He knew and he didn't tell me? 

     "Maybe I should get her back upstairs," I suggested.  

     "I'll help." 

     "No, it's fine. She likes the attention too much. I'll take her up, and then I'll meet you back down here." I had Lucy's arm around my neck, and was stumbling out of the bar with her before he could respond.

     I half carried, half dragged her to the elevator, then once we were at our floor, down the hallway to our suite. 

     Inside, I let her fall onto her bed, took off her shoes, and stole her phone so she couldn't call or text someone and regret it later. As I left, I made sure to plant a garbage can beside the bed and tuck her in under the soft white duvet. 

     "'Night, Luce," I whispered. 

     "Night Alex you smell like Wanted." 

     I shook my head and tried so hard not to laugh. How on earth a half-conscious Lucy could somehow distinguish my favorite perfume, and yet mix me up with her favorite celebrity was beyond me. Either way, it made leaving as quietly as possible extremely difficult. I made it though, and sat down in the stool occupied by my best friend fifteen minutes later. The bar was almost deserted, not that it was surprising. The resort was mostly known for its appeal to a crowd Alex's and my age, and they would all be at the clubs by then, getting absolutely hammered.

     Alex was nowhere in sight, but I called out to the pretty blonde-haired bartender. "When you get a chance, the hardest liquor you have, please."