Don’t Mind If “I Do” by Everly Ashton

Thirty-Three

Nick

There’s something wrong with this picture. I’m sitting at home on a Saturday night, watching Grey’s Anatomy alone, while Mazzy is out at a bar, getting shitfaced.

Why hasn’t she called yet? It’s after midnight. I figured she’d be home by now. She doesn’t even really know those girls. Besides, Mazzy’s not really a drinker. Or at least she didn’t used to be.

I try to concentrate on the TV, but my mind keeps going to that kiss last night. I’ll admit that the impetus was Keith watching us and I wanted to claim Mazzy as mine. But the moment our tongues touched, he was long forgotten and I was brought back to a place where she was my every want and desire. Where the past didn’t exist.

I meant what I told her last night about wanting to leave the past behind. I’m sick of holding on to all the anger over what happened. And if I have to spend the next five-plus months with her, I don’t want to be a bitter asshole the entire time. My job offers me a crystal ball on how easily life can be snatched away. I don’t want to spend it miserable.

My phone dings with a text message, so I pause the episode I’m watching and pick it up.

Mazzy: RDDDYYYY!

Me: Does this mean you want to be picked up?

Mazzy: I wnt u

Jesus,how much has she had to drink?

Me: I’m on my way. Don’t go anywhere.

Mazzy: eye eye captn

I grabmy keys and rush out the door, unsure of what state I’ll find her in. Mazzy was never really a big drinker, but the odd time she did back in the day, she had loose lips. You’d know exactly what she was thinking—apparently the filter from her brain to her mouth was dissolved after coming in contact with alcohol.

I park my vehicle when I don’t see her waiting outside. A live band is playing, and the place is full of drunks. It’s funny how stupid everyone looks when you’re sober. I spot the girls at a table at the back and it’s clear things have gotten… messy.

Marlowe is swinging her bra over her head, yelling about bringing down the patriarchy, while the rest of them cheer her on.

“Hello, ladies.”

All their heads whip around in my direction. “Nick!” they call in unison as if they rehearsed it.

“Everyone behaving themselves?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” Mazzy says. “Thanks for the fun, girls!” Mazzy tries and fails to put her crossbody purse over her head, so I step forward and help her out. “You’re so handsome.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously,” she slurs. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

Shaking my head, I back away once her purse is correct. “Am I pretty or handsome? Which is it?”

“Pretty handsome!” Fiona yells.

I shake my head again. “You all good for rides?”

“Jemma called Ollie, so he’s gonna drop us off too,” Marlowe says. She and Fiona share an apartment with Marlowe’s brother.

“All right. Get home safe. Might want to take an aspirin before bed.”

Mazzy grips my hand and tugs me toward the door. “Let’s go.”

I wave goodbye to the other women and follow Mazzy. Once we’re in the car and pulling out of the parking lot, she turns down the volume of the music.

“Let’s talk,” she says in a chipper voice.

She’s so fucking cute when she’s like this. I couldn’t properly appreciate it all the other times because I was usually three sheets to the wind too.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask, glancing in her direction to see that she’s studying me.

“Do you remember that time in high school when we wanted to see the constellations and we drove out into the country but then your car got a flat tire and I forgot my phone and yours had no charge so we had to walk in the dark down that road until we found a house?”

I laugh. “And you were afraid that the house could belong to a psychopath and you insisted on walking even farther until you found a house you were comfortable with?”

She’s laughing now too. “And then when we stopped at that guy’s house and he drove us back to help us with the tire, he pointed at the first house and asked why we didn’t stop there? It was the pastor’s house!”

We laugh for a minute, lost in our own thoughts.

“I miss those days,” she says in a sad voice.

“Me too. Things are a lot easier when you’re a teenager.”

“No, I mean I miss being able to be like that with you.”

I brake at a stop light and look at her. God, the expression on her face is crushing. “I miss that, too, Maz.”

“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”

I don’t have to ask what kiss she’s referring to, so I decide to be honest with her. “Me too.”

“Do you think we’ll do it again?” She looks so hopeful, like a child asking for dessert, that I can’t help but chuckle.

The light turns green, so I turn away from her and drive. “Do you want to?”

“Um, yeah.”

I laugh and make a right turn into my neighborhood.

“What did you do tonight?” she asks.

I shrug. “Watched TV. Went for a dip in the hot tub. That’s about it.”

“Were you watching Grey’s Anatomy?” She laughs hysterically. For whatever reason, she finds it hilarious that I watch the show.

“No,” I lie, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of guessing right. “I told you I only watch that so I can mock how unrealistic it is.”

“Suuure,” she teases.

I roll my eyes as I pull into my driveway. “C’mon, you lush. Let’s get you some water and aspirin before bed.”

She stumbles up the path, so I hold her upper arm to make sure she doesn’t fall. Once I’m inside, I head straight to the kitchen to get the water and aspirin that will probably save her in the morning. When I return, I find her in the living room.

“I knew you were watching Grey’s,” she says in a triumphant voice and points at the television where I’d paused the show.

Damn it. I forgot to turn off the TV before I left.

I chuckle and shake my head at her. “You caught me.” I put up my hands.

“Admit you like that show.”

I pass her the aspirin and water. “I told you why I watch it.”

“You’re lying,” she says, water dribbling down her chin.

“We need to get you to bed. C’mon.” I walk toward the stairs.

“Will you join me?”

I stop with my foot on the first stair and turn around. Her offer is fucking tempting, and if she were sober, there’s a good chance I might take her up on it. “No.”

“Because you don’t want to?” She walks toward me, and she looks horny. Which makes me horny. Damn it.

“You’ve had too much to drink. Let’s go.” I move to turn around.

She wraps her arms around my neck. “Nick, I want you so bad. I only had that one time with you. It wasn’t enough.”

Christ. My dick springs to attention in my pants. I know exactly what she means. The one and only time we slept together was when I took her virginity and it was amazing, but we were both kids back then. What would it be like to be with her now?

“I can feel that you want me, Nick.”

She’s right. I’m fully hard and her rubbing against me isn’t making it any easier to do the right thing here. I reach for her wrists behind my neck and pull them around to my front, separating our bodies.

“Mazzy, the issue has never been that I wasn’t attracted to you. We can talk about this in the morning when you’re sober, okay?”

She sticks out her bottom lip in a pout I remember seeing her do back when we were kids. “Promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow?”

I nod. “I promise. But right now, let’s get you into bed. I think you’re going to regret your poor choices in the morning.”

“Fine.” She stomps up the stairs in a zig-zag pattern.

I follow in case she stumbles, but she makes it to her room without incident. As hard as it is, I close the door to her room and head to bed in my own.

And yes, I jerk off twice to get rid of my blue balls.