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“Right? It was like I was the asshole for even suggesting he not do this. I may have suggested it loudly, but still.” Another gulp of wine. We continue to drink. Well, Abigail and I do. Kasey is taking it easy right now. She has someone to go home to and probably wants to be marginally sober when she does, considering it’s barely past lunchtime. I, on the other hand, don’t give a shit about getting wasted in the middle of the day. It’s certainly better than sitting here stewing in anger. I’m doing that too, though. I happen to be a great multitasker.
A couple hours have passed, conversation ranging everywhere from the latest hair mask (I need a good one, Abigail informs me) to the latest sexy novel Kasey read (damn I need one of those, too) but always circling back to the situation with Aiden. The wine plus having Kasey and Abigail here has helped, but I’m still so angry that every time I think of him walking out the door, hot rage flows through my blood.
“Aiden is just one of those guys who’ll come if he thinks he’s needed, sis. It’s one of your favorite qualities about him.” Why is Kasey standing up for him?
“Please don’t remind me of anything nice about him right now, Kasey. I want to be mad.” I seriously am not at the softening up portion of the evening yet. Or the seeing reason portion. Nope, still firmly planted in the drunken anger stage.
“You be mad at him, Lindsey. He isn’t listening to reason. I would be mad too. In fact, I’m mad for you. That’s how much I love you.” Abigail tells me this from the floor where she’s lying on her back, her legs perched across the coffee table. I’m currently on the floor with my back against the couch, head resting on the cushion while I stare at the split ends Abigail is sure she has the right mask for. My sister is still nursing her first glass of wine, so she’s sitting like a perfectly normal and sober person on the couch.
The door opens, and Aiden’s large frame fills the space. He does not look happy about what he just walked in on.
Aiden
Talking with Donovan is now out of the way. Of course, he’s perfectly understanding of the reason I’m taking time off work. He will forever be grateful to Liam and his team for their help with finding Kasey and Lindsey. I just need to convince a certain blonde that everything is going to be okay, and I’ll come back to her. Her reaction to me leaving was understandable, if I’m being honest. I didn’t expect her to love the idea, but I did expect her to understand. I should have learned weeks ago to expect the unexpected where Lindsey’s concerned, though.
I open the door to the apartment and the scene in front of me is the last thing I wanted to come home to. Wine bottles littered all over the room and Abigail and Lindsey on the floor, obviously drunk and not thrilled to see me. I can’t say the amount she drinks when she finds herself in a stressful situation hasn’t concerned me. She was drunk on champagne first thing in the morning when I moved in. Stress. The dinner party when she freaked out over her sister letting herself into the apartment. Stress. Me leaving. Stress. Seeing this pattern, coupled with my past experiences with my sister means I’m not too happy about finding her drunk again.
“Aiden. You shithead. I expected a phone call or a text or something. Jackson got an apology,” Abigail slurs. I have a feeling Abigail is the one who brought this afternoon’s libations to the party. It seems poor decisions and Abigail go hand in hand.
“Hello, Abigail. I see you’re in the middle of the shitstorm as usual.” I make sure to give a pointed look at all the empty wine bottles.
“Hey, not fair, Aiden. I believe it was you who caused the ‘shitshow’ this time around.” She tries to use air quotes but fails miserably, smacking herself in the face since she’s apparently so intoxicated, she doesn’t have control over her movements.
Lindsey is shooting daggers at me from the floor, while Kasey looks on apologetically from the couch.
I walk past them and into the bedroom, my movements stiff with irritation. What the hell? I’m gone for a couple hours, and this is what Lindsey does while I’m gone? I was willing to come home and do or say whatever was necessary to make her feel comfortable, or at least not completely petrified, about me leaving for a few days. That idea was shot to hell. I’m packing a bag and heading to a hotel or something. Let them figure this shit out for themselves, but I want no part in dealing with angry drunks right now.
Lindsey walks into the bedroom, barely able to stand on her own as she uses the doorframe for support.
“So what? You’re leaving today?” She asks with a disdainful expression.
“I’m not sitting around while you guys get drunk because you’re upset, Lindsey. That’s not how adults behave when there’s an issue. I’m in no mood to deal with this shit right now.” I continue folding shirts and rolling socks before throwing them in a bag, barely sparing her a glance.
“Oh, you’re not in the mood? Well, excuse the fuck out of me, Aiden. I’m so sorry you disapprove of my sister and friend supporting me when you left me to deal with the bomb you dropped on me this morning.”
I turn to face her. “I would have helped you deal with it. Me.” I smack my chest and stare at her. She wants to push my buttons on this? Consider them pushed. “All you wanted to do was yell and refuse to see reason. You completely overreacted to what I told you. I left to cool down and give you some time to do the same. Then I come home to find you drunk with your friends instead of willing to talk this out with me. So yeah, Lindsey, I’m leaving.”
I brush past her. There’s really no point in trying to have a rational conversation with her when she’s in this state.
When I get back to the living room, I’m met with silence. No one wants to look me in the eye. Whether it’s from their embarrassment over my reaction to the scene I walked in on, or they heard the conversation in the bedroom is anyone’s guess. I’m too pissed to care right now.
I leave the apartment and get in my car, pulling up hotel information on my phone to search for a room for the night. Just as I start the car, I get a text from Liam.
Liam: Location locked. We leave tomorrow 0300.
Me: Coming to your place
Looks like Liam is going to have to deal with having an unexpected guest for the night.
When I get to Liam’s building, I’m surprised at how humble it is. He does very well for himself these days and could probably find something in a much more expensive neighborhood. Grabbing my bag from the backseat, I walk up to the main entrance and press the intercom so he can let me in. He unlocks the door right away, which tells me he saw as soon as I walked up. Liam stands in his doorway of his ground level apartment, watching as I make my way in.
“Thought you would have moved by now,” I say in greeting.
“Nah, I hate packing and all that shite. Just bought the whole place instead.” He waves his arm around his building.
Ah. Makes sense why he hasn’t moved then.
“What brings you to my neck of the woods today, old friend?” Liam asks.
