For Crying Out Loud by J. Preston
For What It’s Worth Prologue
Carter
Christmas Day - One Year Ago
Fucking Christmas spirit, my ass. Who’s to say Christmas is supposed to be the time of happiness and tinsel shit, anyway? Not this guy. How can you live through the happiest time of the year when your heart has been stomped on? How the fuck are you supposed to be smiling through presents, food, and family stuff when the person you’re in love with is all loved up…with someone else. Yup, I’m that sucker. The guy who falls for his best friend then watches her fall in love with another dude.
It didn’t happen instantly. Don’t get me wrong, Jenny—or, as I like to call her, grasshopper—is gorgeous and clever and out of this world funny, but I have my qualities too. And my qualities, well…they bring all the girls to the yard. And the yard ain’t discriminating. So it took me a while to get my head out of my ass and realize that the girl next door is worth fighting for. Needless to say, I was a little too late and grasshopper is currently loved up in London with my other best friend. Fucking cliche.
What can a guy do in a situation like this but get himself out of this world drunk? Nothing.
“One more shot!” Hayley shouts, pouring the whiskey into our shot glasses as Jingle Bells plays over the speakers.
It’s funny how small the world is. One minute, you think you’re drowning your sorrows all by yourself, the next a friend from college that’s three hundred and sixty miles away sits down next to you and demands you celebrate Christmas in style. Hayley, who is grasshopper’s best friend, is down in L.A. for a modelling gig, and a bunch of them decided to come out tonight. To the same bar I always go to when I visit home. When all I wanted to do was be alone and mope. Call it fate. Call it shit luck. Call it whatever, I’m done caring.
“To misery,” I raise my shot glass, liquid sloshing over the rim. Hayley narrows her eyes at me but lifts her glass to mine.
“To freedom,” Sydney, one of the girls with us, clinks her glass with mine, then, without thinking, downs the whiskey in one go. I follow suit, not wanting to be left behind. That will make it six shots? Maybe. Maybe eight. Hayley gets up to walk towards the bar. She’s steady on her feet, and you have to admire a chick that can hold her liquor. As she leans over the bar and starts chatting to one of the bartenders, I turn my head towards Sydney.
“Why freedom? Aren’t we all free? Isn’t that what America stands for? Land of freedom?” I ask, pouring another shot. She cocks her head and picks up her glass.
“I’m English. Why misery?” she deadpans, then downs her shot.
“English-shminglish, you’re in America, babe. Did you just get out of prison?”
“No, and you’re changing the subject.”
“Who cares, anyway. I’m miserable, and I’ll drink to that.” I lift my shot glass to my lips. Her gaze doesn’t waver, so I sigh and put the shot down. “I seem to be suffering from a serious disease called badassery.” She doesn’t bite, so I lift the shot again and throw it back. Slamming it down on the table, I smile. “I’m the jackass who’s in love with his best friend.”
“I take it it's not reciprocated?” She pours two more shots. Good girl.
“Would I be drinking myself into a stupor if it was?” I take a glass from her, and when our fingers touch an electric shock runs through me. My eyes meet her blue ones as, simultaneously, we drink the shot. I’m probably not going to remember much tomorrow, but I sure as hell hope I’ll remember her. She’s fucking beautiful. Like, should be on the covers of magazines type of beautiful. Who am I kidding? Given her employment, she probably is on the covers of all the magazines. Her hand brushes my leg, interrupting my thoughts.
“You know, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” She winks at me. I fucking knew it. God must have been giving out lottery tickets today, and yours truly’s hit the jackpot. I’ll be sure to say a couple of Hail Mary’s in thanks for this miracle.
“Oh yeah?” I reach for the bottle, but her hand gets there first, and as she lifts the whiskey to her lips, her gaze not living mine. My dick hardens at the anticipation of what’s to come. I smile at her, then take the bottle out of her hands. She nods, and I take a long swig. “Want to go somewhere where they’re not trying to brainwash us with Jingle Bells’ subliminal message?” She nods again, so I stand up and reach for her hand. She takes it. As we weave out of the bar, I look over to Hayley to wave goodbye, but she’s busy kissing the bartender, so I don’t bother interrupting.
“I don’t do relationships,” I say once we’re in an Uber. I want to get this out of the way before we get any further.
“I didn’t ask for one. I just want to fuck.” The drivers’ mouth opens. Yes, dude, I’m the master of the universe. This hot as fuck woman wants to have sex with moi!
“Lovely,” I lean in and nuzzle her throat. She smells floral and fucking arousing. I lick at the spot on her neck, and she gasps.
“That, that there, now go lower,” she whispers. The whiskey starts hitting me, so I wrap my fingers around her short, sunshine color hair and pull it.
“Patience, Sunshine.” I nip at her earlobe as the Uber pulls up in front of her hotel.
Drunkenly, we make our way to the room. It’s not pretty, but who the fuck cares? Carter is going to get some. When the key card clicks and the door opens, we tumble to the floor. My hands are all over her, rough and exploring. She tears at my clothes, ripping my t-shirt in half. Fucking hot.
“Mmmm, nice, just what I was hoping for,” she mumbles, stroking my chest up and down. That’s all the invitation I need. In one swift motion, I lift her up and stumble to the bed, dropping her on it unceremoniously. The world is spinning full force now, but I’m a man on a mission. A mission to get my dick wet. Sunshine lifts on her elbows, her crop top riding up, revealing some of her boob. The view is incredible. I clumsily lean over her and pull her top up, exposing her pert nipples. As I suck one into my mouth, I lose my balance and fall to the side, catching my face on her shoulder.
“Fuck!” she yelps.
“You okay?” I slur.
“Yeah, I think so. You?” My eye is throbbing from the impact something fierce, but that’s not going to stop me.
“Yeah.”
“Great, now take off your jeans,” she commands drunkenly. “We’re breaking my dry spell.” Fuck yeah, we are. I stand up and unzip my jeans, but the fucking zipper catches on my underwear, so it takes some serious pulling for the fucker to go down. Finally, I manage to unzip them, leaving a hole in my Calvin Kleins. I don’t need them right now, anyway. I pull my jeans and underwear down at the same time, and it’s the wrong fucking move. I’m an idiot. I stumble and, unable to catch my balance with legs caught in a jean trap, I fall on my ass, banging my head on the leg of a chair in the process. I think I’m dying. I must be, or at least I’m bleeding out. Possibly, it might just be a big bruise, but it hurts like a motherfucker. Sunshine’s head peeps over the edge of the bed. Her eyes zero in on my cock, which is standing to attention, despite the amount of whiskey I have drunk. She licks her lips and slides off the bed, pulling her skirt down and her top off, leaving her in just her panties. She goes to her knees and runs her hand up my leg, all thoughts of bleeding out forgotten. When her fingers graze my balls, I nearly die. It feels like it has been forever since anyone touched me, and it has been. Truthfully, I haven’t been with anyone since I kissed my best friend and realized I might have feelings for her. My stomach tightens. I close my eyes, trying not to think about grasshopper, but it’s the wrong move. The world just won’t stop spinning. I’m half aware of Sydney’s hand wrapping around my cock, but the asshole is not cooperating, probably enjoying his time on the carousel much more than I am.
I open my eyes. Sydney is above me, my dick still in her hand. One look at her, her body, her face, her hair is all it takes to get me ready. I flip us around, Sydney landing underneath me. “Condom,” she demands, wriggling down her panties. I couldn’t be more on board with that demand. I reach down to my ankles, where my jeans still are, and pull a condom out. Sydney’s eyes are half closed, her lips parted as I pull it on. I lean down to kiss her, and an electric current goes through me. Her arms wrap around my neck as I kiss her slowly, deeply. She tastes like whiskey and mint, and her lips mold to mine like they were made for each other. At the back of my head, I have a niggling thought, but I can’t quite grasp it. When I pull away, her eyes are closed and lips titled up in a small smile. I kiss down her jaw and her neck before coming back up to nibble on her earlobe. As much as I want to fuck her, something in me urges me to make it last, make it count. My dick has other ideas, and, as it brushes against the inside of her thighs, I can’t help myself. I push—no—I slide into her in one go. She’s so wet, so fucking wet. And tight and so fucking warm. The thought keeps coming within my reach, but I still can’t make it out. I slide back out and push again. God, she feels so good. So fucking good. Like she was made for me. I lift my head to look into her face and freeze. Sydney’s eyes are closed, mouth parted. Her breaths are steady and deep. A little snore escapes her. The fuck?
She snores again, and I instantly pull out. What. The. Fuck? Did she just fall asleep while my dick was in her? I’m not being funny, but it’s not like Carter Junior is a small guy. One does not simply fall asleep while my dick is inside them!
Sydney makes a content sigh and tries to turn to her side. I slide off her. Who is this devil? I lift her up and put her on the bed, then go to the bathroom to discard the condom. How did this go from me putting the fucking thing on, anyway, and her asleep in the next five seconds? I splash some cold water on my face, trying to get the world to stop spinning. But the world’s not cooperating, so I go back into the room and slide in beside Sydney. Wrapping my arms around her, I nuzzle her hair and close my eyes. Mine, crosses my mind. Huh? It’s her, it’s always been her. I shrug the thoughts off and fall asleep.
When the sun wakes me up in the morning, I have a black eye, the room is empty, and Sydney is gone.
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