"Rack 'em up!"
"Please stop saying that."
"Rack 'em up, rack 'em up, rack 'em up." I taunted back. Both girls smiled as I leaned against the pool table, the edge to my drink finally starting to kick in.
"Sweetie, I think you need to cool it with the bourbon."
"It's whiskey," I replied, eyeing both of their glasses of red wine, "and just because you only like fruity girl drinks does not mean you need to knock my drinking habits."
"Where did we find this girl again?" Melanie joked. Bri snorted, trying not to spill the wine out of the glass she had just brought up to her lips.
"I believe it was you who took pity on her."
With a roll of my eyes, I took another gulp of the drink before grabbing the triangle off its hook.
"The only thing I want pity on is you two at the mercy of my awesome game." My friends laughed as they watched me assemble the colored balls. It took a heck of a lot of strength to keep my hands from shaking
"Easy, tiger, we just started learning." Bri chalked her pool stick as she spoke.
I smirked, but my mind was already wandering to a place I had long since chained shut.
"Hey there, tiger."
A shiver ran down my back. It was the second time I had thought about him after a whole two years. I'd been convinced he was walking up the block on the way to the parking lot at work, but it couldn't be. There was no possible way he had followed me to Oklahoma.
"Hey?" Melanie had come over and was gently touching my shoulder. "You okay Lill?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Who's gonna break?"
It only took another minute to put aside the memories. Sure, it was jarring to think about if he really was in town. Arizona had been a different time, I was a different girl now; this wasn't going to get to me. Bri and Melanie had taken me in after that hard move and now I was ready to enjoy a girl's night with my two best friends.
"I need more to drink," I announced half-way through the game. "You guys want more? I'll buy."
"Don't you think you need to calm down?"
"It's girls' night!" I replied cheerfully, and no, I was not slurring my words. "I thought we were gonna have fun?"
Both girls shared a look before shrugging in agreement. Bri still hesitated before taking her turn, and I knew she was watching me. Walk in a straight line, that's all you gotta do Lilly.
"Another round, good sir!" I smiled at the older gentleman behind the bar. Lloyd chuckled before turning to grab the glasses.
It was fairly quiet for a Friday night, but that was probably because of the fall break at the local college. The calm was nice, and even though it meant less business, Lloyd had to be happy not dealing with all the drunken stupidity that usually took place.
"Can I get ya a drink, sweetheart?"
Ice crept through my body, freezing me against the bar. It was him.
"Uhmmm, a long island?" The high voice was giggling, clearly enjoying the attention.
Using my best side-eye, I spotted the green jacket just on the other side of a big burly guy sitting in the barstool. Lloyd returned with the drinks and I downed half of the whiskey before utilizing that year of waitressing in high school to carry the drinks back.
"He's here," I hissed, my heart trying to pound out of my chest.
"Him? Like, HIM him?" Bri gasped, her eyes wide as she tried to search behind me for the culprit.
"Yes."
"Wait, is this…" Melanie took a sip. She never had been good with remembering stories.
"The guy who stomped on my heart in Arizona? Yeah." My drink was gone now and I was in desperate need of another.
"How could he possibly be here?"
"He travels all the time for work." I reached out to take Bri's glass, but she narrowed her eyes.
"No, you are not getting trashed. We are going to leave now and deal with this in a much healthier manner."
"Mmmm, I don't think so," Plucking the glass away from Melanie's distracted gaze was too easy. She opened her mouth wide in complaint but the wine was already at my lips. In one chug it was gone, and I handed back the glass.
"Don't do this," Bri pleaded, but I had already turned to go back for another round.
Focusing solely on the stained glass picture behind the shelves, the world suddenly tilted as I bumped shoulders with someone…in a dark green coat, who was now looking right at me.
"Sorry," I muttered quickly, trying not to stare at those piercing green eyes. It felt like someone had dumped water down my back.
"What is it?" The high-pitched conquest asked, but I was already at the bar, nodding at Lloyd and holding up two fingers.
"Nothing," he answered.
Air hitched in my throat, and for a second I thought I was going to cry. It felt like everyone was staring at me; Melanie and Bri, the guy who seemed to not have showered at all this month, the ditzy redhead trying to get away from his flirting, and most importantly, Dean Winchester.
As Lloyd came back, his kind eyes trying to ask what was wrong, more memories bubbled up, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.
Settling a kiss on the back of my neck, Dean reached around and set a bouquet of flowers on the table, bright orange and in full bloom.
"What is this for?"
"Found them after Sam dragged me to the Farmer's Market this morning. Why we had to go after staying up hunting a djinn all night, I have no idea." Dean slid into the chair, waving off the rest of his rant. "Guess what kind they are?"
"No idea," I couldn't resist bringing them up to my nose, shaking my head to Dean's question.
"Tiger Lillies." He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Clever," laughing, I entwined my hand with Dean's. "Now really, what is this all about?"
That had been the last happy moment in Arizona. Only two months later had I finally gotten the courage to move to Oklahoma and find a better life. I was happy here, why was he trying to ruin that?
"Lilly?" Lloyd was watching me down the drinks without a second of thought.
"Keep 'em comin', Lloyd."
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"Oh-kay," Bri lurched as I felt my arm swing over her shoulders. "You need to be done. Now."
"No, I'm fiwne." God, I sounded like an 80-year old woman with the flu.
"Mel, will you help me?"
They were pulling me away from the pool table, and I tried fighting them off, but clearly they were stronger than I thought. As we rounded into the front hall, I saw the three of us in the mirror behind the bar. My "fighting" was me limply getting dragged like an unconscious prisoner. Wow, this was pathetic.
"Ladies, it looks like you could use a hand."
Dean was behind us. Bri and Mel stopped; why had I decided not to tell them exactly which unfortunate scumbag I was trying to avoid?
"Really? You would help us?" Mel was already loosening her grip, and the lights blurred as everything started to spin. Oh, we were turning around. There he was; stupid jacket, stupid eyes, stupid mouth.
"He won't help," My tongue felt like it weighed ten pounds. "He's only gonna make everything worse."
"You're Dean?" Bri asked.
He was nodding. He had to be. Three faces swam around me, hazed over by smoke and alcohol, but why would he lie right here when I was so close?
"Stop lying!" The words were out before I could stop them.
"Shhh, Lilly, why are you yelling?" Melanie was so close, her eyes full of criticism, and radiating heat all over me. I wiggled out of her grip, tripped over my feet, and then Dean's hands were on my arms.
"You're making a scene," Dean whispered.
"You," it was necessary to point at his chest, even jab a couple times, "have no right to tell me what to do."
Taking the smallest step back, Dean let go and held up his hands, and I happily stumbled the few steps over to the bar.
"Lloyd, another!"
"You're done, darling." He shook his head to reiterate the point. I felt my lip pout, but couldn't find the words to tell him where he should stick the rest of his liquor.
"Mel, get me a drink!" More spinning as the words echoed around me, this time forcing my elbows against the bar. When did my legs become wet noodles?
"Sweetie, come on, let's go home."
I had so much anger piling up inside me. Dean had left me. Bri was bossy. Mel couldn't make up her mind. Why should I listen to any of them? I pushed myself up, imagining spinning around and telling them all what I thought. Instead I only saw black and heard a loud rush of wind.
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With a gasp, my eyes flew open. It took a couple seconds to register the darkness surrounding me and the single spot of light overhead. Where was I? Nope, more important, where was the toilet?
Jerking to the right, I felt the soft padding drop away, and I ducked my head and emptied my stomach. Acid, cinnamon, and clove burned through my nose, speeding along the process. I heaved again, choking on the spit stuck in my throat, then rolled onto my back with a moan.
"That was some good aim."
"Holy shit!" I felt my body jump off the bed as shadows shifted along the wall.
"Hey, you're okay." His hand was on my arm, searing hot against my clammy skin.
"D-Dean?" The night slowly started coming back, rendering flashes of Dean's face mixed with Bri's voice and lots and lots of alcohol. "What are you doing?"
"Taking care of you."
"But Bri and Mel…"
"They didn't give in easily, I commend them for that. It helped that I was the only one able to carry you out of the bar."
Fighting against the weights that had to be holding me down, I tried to get up to escape. Dean couldn't know how embarrassed I felt.
"Hey, cool it, you're gonna hurt yourself again." He tried holding down my wrist but I groaned and whipped it away.
I don't know if it was the movement or Dean's words, but suddenly I could feel my forehead throbbing. I held up my hand (had I gained thirty pounds in the course of one night?) to feel the soft bandaging.
"You hit your head on the bar."
It was silent for a minute. I tried finding the ceiling above me, shoving down the dizziness, frustration, and never-ending embarrassment. He wasn't supposed to witness this complete emotional breakdown.
"Dean, what are you doing here?"
"Working a job."
"And working your way into another woman's pants."
"That happened to be an interview," Dean said coolly. "She lived with the victim."
God, now I felt dumb on top of everything else. Once again, I rolled to my side, pushing myself up to sit and wincing. Must have bruised my arm in my little spill. Dean chose correctly not to try and stop me.
"Please take me home."
"Why did you get so drunk tonight?"
"I had a bad day. Ran into an ex that stomped on my heart. Take me home." The anger was aggravating my stomach, and I hoped I wasn't going to puke again.
"When did you move to Oklahoma?"
"What is with the FBI routine? I want to go sleep before my hangover gets worse."
"Why didn't you ever try to call me?"
He must have opened a window to keep me from overheating, because now there were just chirping crickets to listen to.
"You told me you were done!" The scream tore out of my lungs, scaring both of us. "That I couldn't hunt with you, I couldn't distract you from the job. Why the fuck would I call you after that?"
His heavy breathing filled my ears, and I mustered up all the strength I could to stand in front of him and finally be the one to walk away. But then his hand was at my chin, fingers sprawling up my jaw, and I barely hesitated meeting him halfway in a mind-blowing kiss.
God, his lips were just as soft as I remembered, and he had to have gotten better at…just…everything. His long fingers were splayed between my flannel and tank top, softly curling his nails to push me closer to him. My stomach jolted, swirling around a fair mix of nausea, intoxication and adoration. Because yes, I did adore this man. It had taken two years, two states, and a large bottle of whiskey for me to finally admit that.
I tried making the simple transition from the bed into Dean's lap. As my leg shook and my knee started to give out, Dean reached out and palmed my hips, guiding me right over his own. His jaw opened wider, the tips of our tongues twirling together, and I pushed myself even closer to him. Decency and common sense started packing their bags as I drank in the cure to my hangover.
Then his hand was on my waist, pushing me away. Pushing. He stopped the kiss, breath hot on my face, and his eyes met mine for the third time that night.
"I'm not doing this."
"Why not?" I felt like every part of me was rattling, his touch firing all my nerves, but still he made no move forward.
"You're drunk. This is really, really complicated. I don't want…"
"What?" Now it was me with all of the questions.
"I don't want you to hate me tomorrow." His voice was so quiet, I swore I had imagined it.
My mind slogged through this concept and swung his face in and out of focus. Dean chuckled, kissing the bottom of my chin and wrapping his arms around me. I jolted, ready to push back into him, but slowly he stood and laid me on the bed. He crawled next to me, shifting his pillow over, and hooked his leg over the top of my calf. Like a reflex, my elbows bent in front of my chest and I grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt. He tilted his head back only a little, letting me slide in against his collar bone, and I took a long whiff of cologne and sweat.
I knew tomorrow would be painful, both physically and emotionally. Maybe, though, we would finally talk about everything that had happened. Get to a place where we both might be okay. If that meant make-up sex and falling asleep in his arms, great. If it was more tears and yelling and saying goodbye, I had friends that would help me finally close the chapter. Right now, I was content, and Dean was tightening his hold, ensuring for at least tonight I was going to be safe.