36. Bellamy

THIRTY-SIX

bellamy

Hendrix: You going?

Wolf: He's going.

She hadn't invited me. She hadn't invited anyone—Nora had. That threw me for a loop.

Nora couldn't be throwing a surprise birthday party at Drew's house, and there was no way her asshole dad would let this many people come over—especially not the likes of people from Dayton so... What the hell was going on?

Hendrix: One of you dickwads pick me up. Free drinks. I'm getting hammered. Then I'm going to be doing the hammering...

Wolf: Bell's gonna be hammering Paris Hilton.

Cars lined the street when I pulled up in front of Drew's house. Every window was lit up.

Me: Might. Don't know.

I sent the text to the guys, then stuffed my phone into my pocket, shimmied over the center console, and started up her drive.

Landscape lighting gleaned over the side of a pink Porsche with a ridiculous white bow on the hood. Porsche or not, that thing was hideous, and I absolutely could not see Drew driving it.

Loud music poured through the open door, and I followed the hum of conversation into the kitchen. There were no balloons, no streamers, nothing that would indicate it was a birthday celebration.

Nora and Diane stood at the counter, taking shots while a group of football players cheered them on.

The second Nora slammed her shot glass down, her gaze locked with mine. "Oh. Yay. You came." She staggered over to me and dug a finger into my shoulder. The liquor must have been doing a number on her. "What exactly are you trying to do with my friend?" she asked.

"Your friend?"

"Yeah. My friend." She crossed her arms over her chest and popped her hip to the side. "The one you're...dating."

"Ah. That friend."

"Don't be you, Bellamy."

I snagged a bottle of beer from an ice bucket on the table. Some expensive shit imported from Belgium. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I said.

"Don't break her heart."

I stared at Nora for a moment. I didn't believe for one second I was in a position to break Drew's heart...

"Oh my God." She groaned. "If Drew ends up like all your other cast-offs, crying in a bathroom over your shitty ass, I will cut you myself." She gave me one final stare down, then sauntered off.

If there were girls in the Dayton restrooms shedding tears over me, that was due to their own ridiculous assumptions. Because I had never given a girl a reason to believe they meant anything.

Drew, on the other hand, was quickly becoming everything to me, and there was no way in hell I'd give her a reason to cry.

I shouldered through the crowd and outside to the deck.

One of the underclassmen hoisted himself onto the railing, butt-ass naked. His foot hit one of the concrete planters. It toppled to the pavement below and shattered before he cannon balled into the pool on a scream.

Kids from Dayton wouldn't consider something a party unless shit was broken and something had been set on fire. Drew's house was going to be trashed before the end of the night.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the side of the porch, catching my attention. People raised their cups above their heads as Drew climbed onto the patio table in a skin-tight, red dress. The low-cut neckline barely covered her nipples.

She lifted a bottle of liquor above her head while her hips moved in beat with the music. When the chorus picked up, she busted out moves that would have put a Vegas showgirl to shame.

I shifted through the crowd, anger sparking in my chest at the few guys staring a little too hard at her.

Drew shimmied to the left, and one side of the table bucked up, throwing her off, and right into the arms of a Dayton football player. I wanted to kill him. I shoved people out of the way and grabbed her arm, snatching her away from him.

"The fuck are you doing?" I said, glaring at him.

He held up his hands, waving an invisible white flag before he quickly disappeared amongst the other party-goers.

"Bellamy! You're here." Drew stroked my face with sloppy movements. She was shit-faced. On her birthday. That I had a feeling her dad had forgotten.

This probably wasn't going to end well.

"Yeah. Thanks for the invite."

"I told Nora to invite everyone ."

"I'm not Nora's—" And I stopped before the word boyfriend came out.

"Don't be sad." She swayed on her feet, then tipped her bottle back with a slosh.

I took the liquor, holding it up to the porch light. The damn thing was almost empty. "I think you've had enough." Shaking her ass with her tits out. She'd absolutely had more than enough.

She gave me a once over while chewing at her lip. "I really haven't had enough of you." Then she grabbed my shirt and yanked me close. "Wanna come fuck me on my dad's desk?"

The idea of pounding away at her on her dad's desk would be impossible to turn down—if she weren't drunk.

She laced her fingers through mine and led me into the house, straight through the crowded kitchen and into his office.

She closed the door, and I stared at the paper-covered desk at the back of the room, my dick swelling at the idea of bending her over it.

The lock clicked. Her dress clung to every dip and curve as she crossed the room, and that bright-red lipstick just begged to be smeared. And even though I'd never been so attracted to a girl in my life, I could not screw her while she was this drunk, and if she touched me…

She moved closer. "You look hot."

"And you look drunk."

Then she shoved me hard enough that I stumbled back onto the desk. "Not that drunk," she said, placing her hands on either side of my thighs as she climbed up and straddled me.

"Drew…"

The friction of her grinding against me was too damn much to stand.

She nipped at my ear, then whispered, "I want your dick in my pussy."

Those words went straight to my dick, like an adrenaline shot, and when she fisted my hair, a switch flipped. I couldn't not touch her any longer.

I gripped her bare thighs and stood, wrapping her legs wrapping around me. The heat of her bled through my jeans, and I was two seconds away from losing the last bit of control I was somehow clinging to.

"Say it," she breathed, her lips at my throat as she tugged my hair. "Ask me if I'm wet for you."

This shit was just too much. I turned around and slammed her onto the desk. "I know you fucking are."

Papers crumpled, stacks of files toppled to the floor. And then it was nothing but hands in hair and her fingers fumbling for my belt.

My lips were on her throat, the swells of her exposed tits, any piece of bare skin I could get to. I'd wanted to bury myself in her for so damn long, but what made it worse, I wanted more than just this now. I wanted her .

I pulled her thong down her legs, tossing it to the side of the room as she unfastened my jeans.

"God, I fucking want you," I groaned, biting her neck.

"Yeah, you do."

Her fingers wrapped around my dick and that touch alone was almost enough to make me come. And through the lust-filled haze, my conscience ate away at me. I could not fuck her when she was this drunk.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked.

I bit back a groan as she worked her tight fist over my shaft. "I'm not fucking you when you're shitfaced."

"I'd fuck you sober, anyway."

"Doesn't matter."

She tugged my dick closer to her bare pussy, and my jaw set. This was a form of temptation akin to the inner circle of hell. And drunk, she was the devil.

"I'm not fucking you tonight."

I slipped my hand between her legs, and holy shit, was she wet. It took all of thirty seconds before she tightened around my fingers. That was enough to send me hurtling over the edge.

I sank my teeth into her shoulder on a groan, coming in her hand. And when I pulled away, she slipped her fingers between her lips and sucked me off.

"You're seriously trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Couldn't fuck you if I did that, could I?" She smirked, then hopped off the desk and snatched a bottle of liquor on her way out of the office.

She was absolutely going to kill me...

An hour later, she could barely walk, which was why I was carting her inebriated ass up the stairs to her room.

I closed the door, and just when I was about to put her on the bed, she swallowed. Then swallowed again, focusing on a spot on the wall.

"Are you gonna be sick?" I asked.

She nodded, and I hurried across the room to the bathroom.

"Oh…" She heaved.

"No. Wait! Wait…."

The second I placed her in front of the toilet, she puked.

"I told you, you were gonna throw up."

She lifted her middle finger and leaned farther over the bowl.

I pulled her hair away from her face to keep the vomit out of it, and she made a weak attempt to swat me away.

"Go...away."

"And leave you in here to pass out in puke? Nah…"

She groaned, threw up some more, then flushed the toilet and slumped against the tiled wall. "This is the worst birthday ever." She wiped at the mascara streaking her cheek. "And now you're watching me puke."

I scrubbed a hand over my face before dropping to the floor beside her. "It's no big deal."

"He forgot." She traced a finger along the grout in the tile, then rested her head on my shoulder, and something in my chest went tight.

"Yeah. Well, he's an asshole."

"I shouldn't even care."

"But you do. And that's fine." I knew that to be true. I hated my dad's ass, but over the years, I'd still found myself trying to make him proud. Trying to get a moment of attention. "Come on, you should go to bed."

I pushed up, helping her to her feet before I grabbed the purple toothbrush I figured was hers, pumped toothpaste on it, then passed it to her, and I left her to it.

I ran a hand through my hair while I paced in front of her bed. Pissed as hell at her dad. Angry he'd hurt her. Furious I couldn't fix it. And I'd never cared enough about anyone else outside of my mom and Arlo to ever give a shit.

My phone beeped. Then beeped again.

Hendrix: Where are you at, dickweed?

Hendrix: Wolf and I made a bet you're getting your dick sucked.

"You gave me a Push Pop."

I shoved my phone in my pocket and turned around to Drew, standing in the doorway of her bathroom. The straps of her dress hung off her shoulders, and the look on her face was pitiful.

"Yeah…"

"It's the only thing that made me happy today."

And that was sad as shit. "There's a Porsche in your drive and my Push-Pop made you happy. That's messed up. That Push-Pop was two bucks."

"The car's pink. My mom doesn't even know I hate pink." She pushed away from the doorframe, staggered to her bed, and collapsed on top of the covers. "But you know I like rainbow Push-Pops. Not grape or cherry. But rainbow."

I was pretty damn sure, her dad forgetting her birthday had to make her feel invisible. I sank to the bed beside her, rubbing a hand over her exposed back. I didn't want her to feel invisible. "I'll buy you all the rainbow Push-Pops you want."

She looked up from the comforter and smiled.

"You gotta get out of this thing." I helped her sit up, slowly pulling her dress over her head. I skimmed my hand along her side. The way I felt with her—like something missing was right there—it was something I couldn't ignore anymore. "I really do fucking like you."

"I like you, too," she whispered.

"Good." I kissed her forehead, then pulled my shirt over my head and tugged it over hers. "Come on," I laid back on the bed, bringing her down onto my chest.

"Thank you."

"For what?" I swept my hand through her tangled hair.

"For being nice."

"Only to you, baby girl. Only to you…"