“It’s the life sentence,” Declan murmurs as he watches them. His two pieces of home. The smile that hits his mouth is clear proof that despite all of this pouting, he absolutely loves the way those two are with each other.
Saltzy slides Wyatt’s cards back into the deck, dealing him out of this round, and we keep playing. We listen to One Direction until my ears are nearly bleeding, and when Wyatt returns, a few more songs are sung equally as horribly. Eventually, a new voice takes over the microphone.
“Boston Black!”
I freeze.
Carter sighs, shaking his head as he slides his card toward Lowesy.
“Come and sing with me! Right now!”
I glance over my shoulder and meet the blue eyes that have not stopped haunting me. She’s hopping on her toes in that baby pink dress, looking like the sweetest dream in the world. It’s almost sinful how beautiful she is, how fucking angelic she looksbeing ready to lure me down to hell. She wiggles her fingers my way, beaming from ear-to-ear.
I shake my head, which makes her push out that bottom lip that feels so damn good on every single part of my body.
I am drunk and she’s Ari. This is not a good situation.
“Boston!”she shouts into the microphone, and it explodes through the room with a painful echo.
Carter winces at the sound. His eyes snap to me, his shoulders jumping up to his ears. “Dear god, Boss. Please, just go sing a stupid song to put us out of our misery. She’s not going to stop.”
“Boston Blaaaaaaaack,”she sings out.
“Please,”Carter begs.
Fine.
I sigh, dropping my cards to the table and getting to my feet. I slowly make my way to the living room, shooting Ari a look that tells her exactly how I feel about what she’s doing. She just beams up at me, excitedly dancing on the spot, and hands me that second microphone.
Irisby The Goo Goo Dolls starts to play.
I go still, my eyes snapping to her face.
She smiles innocently, like this isn’t a fucking cruel move to pull right in front of her brother. The song starts, and she jumps right in, even as I awkwardly stand beside her, suddenly unsure how to use my limbs or find my voice.
I’m pissed that she thinks doing this to me is fair.
I’m still going to do it for her, anyway.
I bring the microphone to my mouth and, much less enthusiastically, start to sing the song with her. I’m basically just reciting the lyrics, my voice completely monotone. This is my nightmare, but I force myself to get through it by reminding myself that it’s only our friends in the room and everyone is hammered. By the chorus, Arden and Penny are waving theirphones, and Ariana’s arm is wound around my back, forcing me to sway side to side with her.
At some point, my eyes flicker back to the dining room. The boys are still playing cards, not giving us a second of their attention, but one pair of eyes are locked right on me. Hazel, serious, and with a knowing look on his face.
It’s not a happy look.
I sing the chorus as Lowesy leans back in his seat, brings his drink to his lips, and raises his eyebrows at me like I just gave him a mountain of evidence that outlines my crimes on a silver platter.
I stare at the ceiling, spread out on Fork’s couch. Saltzy, Wyatt, Lowesy, and Penny took the two guestrooms, obviously. That leaves me, the single idiot, to sprawl out on this giant sofa, which is similar to the one Lowesy has, but smaller and less comfortable. It can be rearranged to a bed, which is what we all drunkenly managed to put together before everyone called it a night.
But I can’t sleep.
I know she’s down the hall. I wonder what she’s wearing. I wonder if she still has my t-shirt, or if she is awake and staring at the door right now, unable to sleep like I am. She’s… intoxicating. The pull I feel toward her is strong and real, and it’s making it hard to end the sentence where I wanted to. It’s very clearly a fucking comma, or a dot, dot, dot, like she wanted it to be.
Getting her out of my system is proving to be harder than I thought.
I sigh, running a hand over my face. I’m drunk, I’m pissed off, and I am frustrated that I had to endure hours of her in that dress. Torture. Now I’m drunk, pissed off, and want to tear that dress right off her body, peel it down her frame, and kiss my way back up to her mouth.
God, Boston, you are so fucked.
