Intoxicated (22 page)

“Gracie?”

“Gracie. Isn’t she younger than us?”

“Yeah. She’s twenty-three.”

“Matthew’s about to turn thirty. A bit of a
difference there.”

I shrugged. “I’ve considered that also. As
well as the distance part. But none of it’s a deal breaker,
right?”

“You are the poster child for a successful
long distance relationship. I’d consider you the expert.”

“If you’re not going to say something nice,”
I warned. Blake stuck out her tongue at me. “Very mature.”

“I’m just going to give you one piece of
advice. Think before you do this. If something comes out of this,
you will be the hero as long as things are going well. And you will
have to live with the jealousy that comes with the territory of
setting up someone you are crushing on with someone else. If things
head south, you’ve just put yourself in an awkward position. You
will forever be the person in the middle. Whose side will you
choose then? It’s tough when your inner circle starts hooking up.
Trust me.”

“They haven’t even met yet and we are already
planning their demise. Things may never get to that point anyway.
Besides, it was just a fleeting thought.”

“Because if you can’t have him, you want to
choose who he is with?”

I looked away, staring out the window at
nothing in particular. My silence confirmed her theory. I felt her
hand squeeze my shoulder.

“I have a boyfriend,” I whispered.

“I know,” she said, “and that’s another
reason not to do this.”

I turned back to her, determined not to ruin
my eyeliner and mascara with a few errant tears.

“You know, I admire you for your resolve. You
have tried and tried to make this relationship with Eric work. You
love him. You stand by him. But are you in love with him
anymore?”

She didn’t expect me to answer. The question
was rhetorical in nature. Even if she had been waiting for a
response, I wasn’t sure that I was capable of forming words.
Instead, goosebumps formed on my arms, and I wrapped them around
myself, grateful for the warmth of my sweater.

As we pulled into Matthew’s driveway, she
offered one last piece of wisdom.

“Life is too short to have regrets.”

It was game time. As the oven timer counted
down, the finishing touches put on our carefully laid plans, my
stomach continued to twist in knots. Any minute now, the doorbell
would ring and the Indianapolis quotient of our party would arrive,
ready to pass their judgment. I began to second guess everything,
even though it was all perfect.

The last couple of hours had been a flurry of
activity. I would never have been able to pull off an event of this
magnitude without Blake and Matthew’s help. After our interesting
talk in the car, Blake had left Matthew and me to our own devices.
She had stayed out of our way, keeping busy with flitting about the
house and making sure everything was picture perfect. Apparently,
she felt as though she had given me enough to think about. I would
be way too occupied with my own thoughts to even consider
flirting.

Matthew had surprised me by handling every
task I had given him with perfection. No matter how much he joked
about being the typical bachelor, there was hope for him. His
future didn’t have to consist of microwave popcorn and TV dinners.
I told him that I would teach him some basics and we could go from
there. Since he was over at my place for dinner more often than
not, it would be simple to squeeze in some cooking lessons. He
agreed, but I wasn’t sure if he was just humoring me or not.

As we worked together, I studied him
discreetly. During the time that Blake and I had gone back to our
place, he had showered and changed. Gone were the glasses, though
his face was still unshaven. Normally, I didn’t like scruffy, but
on him, the five o’clock shadow worked. His blond hair was
characteristically unruly, threatening to fall into his piercing
blue eyes. He was as dressed up as I had ever seen him; over his
jeans he had layered a white dress shirt and a black sweater. The
shirt remained untucked and peeked out from underneath. He looked
like a celebrity, stylish in a way that mere mortals couldn’t be
from the top of his head to the bottom of his black combat
boots.

Whoever won his heart would be insanely
lucky.

A chill shot down my spine, and I shuddered
at the thought.

“It’s okay; I’m nervous too,” he admitted,
mistaking my action.

I smiled up at him. Our eyes met and I
swallowed the lump in my throat. “Happy Thanksgiving,” I whispered.
“No matter what happens today, I am thankful for meeting you and
the friendship that you’ve given me.”

He reached across the countertop and grabbed
my hand. “Happy Thanksgiving, gorgeous. One day I hope I will be
the person you think I already am. Sometimes when we are together,
I forget that I’m not and I almost start believing it myself.”

I laced my fingers around his and squeezed.
Holding his hand felt like one of the most natural things in the
world. Our hands rested against the cold concrete, but I felt no
chill. I was only aware of the warmth of his touch. His eyes
searched mine, looking for answers to whatever nameless questions
were swirling in his head. His lips parted momentarily as if he
were going to say something further, then closed as he thought
better of it.

The doorbell sounded. Matthew snatched his
hand away from mine as if it had suddenly been set ablaze. I stood,
frozen, waiting for someone to answer it. Blake had seemingly
disappeared, and Matthew made no move toward it, either.

“Go on,” he said, “it’s for you anyway.”

I shrugged. It felt odd to answer his door
like I belonged here, but if that’s what he wanted, then so be it.
I took a deep breath, raked my fingers through my pixie cut, and
trudged out to the foyer. Matthew’s front door was massive,
actually two large wooden doors that when thrown open created a
rather spectacular entrance. Whoever was waiting on the porch
couldn’t be seen from my position, so I had no idea if I would come
face to face with Eric or my dad and Gracie first. Maybe they had
waited for one another in the driveway, and they would all three be
standing there.

I swung open the right hand door and revealed
Gracie and my father.

“Lauren!” she squealed, “It’s so good to see
you!”

“I missed you so much!” I replied as
enthusiastically as I could muster. Gracie engulfed me in a hug
like we hadn’t seen each other in years, not weeks, and I took the
opportunity to roll my eyes at my dad. Gracie was, if nothing else,
dramatic. My dad shook his head and smiled.

“Come on in, it’s cold out here,” I
prompted.

They obliged, and I closed the door behind
them. Still no sign of Eric. Blake had emerged during all the
commotion, and she stood politely by my side as I gathered their
coats and hung them up in the closet. Once that task was completed,
I gestured to my roommate.

“This is Blake Snyder. Blake, meet Gracie
Alexander and my dad, Doug Jefferies.”

Blake extended her hand and greeted my guests
warmly. I could easily see from her friendly demeanor how clients
would open up both their homes and pocketbooks to her. She was the
kind who acted as if she had never met a stranger. The small amount
she had let me know about her past all made sense. I could so see
her being the cheerleader type, the most popular girl at school.
The beauty that had it all, that everyone would love to hate if
only she weren’t so damn nice.

Her eyes lingered over Gracie appraisingly. I
was certain I was the only one who noticed. My friend was babbling
on incessantly about everything from work to the latest party she
had been to, and my head was spinning from her rapid fire
commentary. Given the conversation that had taken place before her
arrival, I couldn’t blame my roommate for sizing her up. Anyone who
was so protective of her sibling would do the same thing.

I took in Gracie’s appearance myself, trying
to see her with virgin eyes. She was a knockout with her pale skin,
brown eyes and silky jet black hair that traveled down her back.
She wore an oversized cream cable knit sweater over a pair of skin
tight jeans. Her jeans were barely visible, tucked inside her over
the knee black suede boots. Classic Gracie style. From holidays to
clubbing, she basically looked the same.

“I love your hair,” Gracie gushed to Blake,
“I could never get away with that at the bank.”

Blake smiled. “Chalk up another advantage to
being self-employed.”

The oven timer went off and I heard Matthew
take the turkey out.

“You guys showed up right on time,” I said,
motioning them to follow me. “We just finished up with
everything.”

“It smells wonderful, dear,” my father
enthused.

“Thanks. I had a lot of help.”

We gathered in the entrance to the kitchen
and I exchanged a look with Matthew. I tried to convey as much
encouragement as I could with my eyes. Outwardly he looked
nonchalant, but internally, I knew he was about ready to vomit. He
was so convinced that everyone he came upon would hate him that it
was impossible for him to give anyone the benefit of the doubt.
Seeing that fleeting glance cross his handsome features made me
hate his parents intently for ever creating that fear. No one
should ever do that to their child, no matter what their
mistakes.

“Everyone, this is Matthew Snyder, Blake’s
brother. He graciously let me invade his house today, and he’s not
bad at taking orders, either.”

Matthew wiped his hands on a towel prior to
coming out from behind the counter. I introduced him to my father
first, then to Gracie. He also extended his hand, though not with
the same confidence as his sister. It was of no bother to either of
our guests, who treated him like family anyway. Gracie turned to me
and mouthed the words “Oh. My. God.” and “Upgrade.” I jabbed my
elbow in her side.

“Ow,” she whispered.

“Be good,” I hissed under my breath.

Blake smirked. She had caught the whole
thing. I blushed, but the ringing doorbell allowed me to leave one
awkward situation for another. Eric had arrived. I turned back to
the foyer, leaving the four others to make small talk while I
greeted my boyfriend.

My heart threatened to leap out of my throat
as I contemplated the reaction he’d have when I opened the door. I
closed my eyes and hoped for the best. I placed my shaking hand on
the doorknob and pulled it open with more than a little
hesitation.

Eric stood on the front porch, his arm
propped against the side of the house. I wasn’t sure if he was
trying to look cool, or like he owned the place or what, but his
swagger didn’t impress me. He took me in hungrily with his eyes
upon first glance. I wished I could say it was with longing or
adoration, but it smacked more of possession than anything else. We
stood there silently for a moment before I stepped aside to let him
in.

“Did you find the place okay?” I asked as I
grabbed his coat and placed it in the closet.

“Yes,” he responded matter-of-factly, “I have
GPS. But why anyone would want to live out in the middle of nowhere
is beyond me.”

“This place is like fifteen minutes away from
the interstate. That’s hardly the middle of nowhere. There’s more
to life than high rises downtown, you know.”

“To each his own, I guess.”

“Eric,” I warned, “please be nice.”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Within the first ten minutes of my guests arriving, I had already
had to warn two of them to be on their best behavior. My father was
the only one I didn’t have to worry about babysitting. I supposed
Gracie was relatively harmless as well; I only had to keep her from
carrying on about how hot Matthew was. As if I didn’t realize that
already. I should have been happy that she was so impressed, but
the way she had referred to him as an upgrade made me think she was
looking at him for me and not her.

Damn it, everyone. I had a boyfriend.
Belligerent as he could be at times, Eric was still my boyfriend.
If everyone would stop fantasizing about setting me up with
Matthew, then maybe my thoughts wouldn’t drift that way as
well.

I grabbed Eric’s wrist and drug him into the
kitchen. Everyone stopped talking when we appeared.

“Oh, yay, Eric’s here,” Gracie drawled.

Matthew choked on his laughter. As he had
alluded to the other night in the car, I could see that he would
have no problems getting along with her. While it would be rude at
this point for him to make a snide remark, he was obviously living
vicariously through her disdain.

Blake moved into action to further cover up
her brother’s amusement. “Nice to meet you. I’m Blake.”

She stepped forward and offered her hand.
Eric accepted it stiffly.

“Eric Parker,” he replied formally, as if he
were meeting with a prospect instead of his girlfriend’s roommate.
Everything about him was rigid and fake, from his personality to
the way he was dressed. He appeared to have come straight from
closing a deal, leaving his suit jacket and tie in the car. His
dress shirt and pants were perfectly pressed, his black shoes shiny
and unscuffed as though they had yet to see the light of day.

“And this is my brother, Matthew,” Blake
continued, unphased.

Matthew nodded at Eric and made no move to
step forward or acknowledge his presence further. Eric slid his
hand out of Blake’s grip and thrust it into his pocket. The feeling
was mutual. The knot in my stomach tightened.

“Well,” I said, “the food’s all ready, so
let’s take a seat in the dining room.”

Because the dining room adjoined the kitchen,
I clearly didn’t need to lead anyone toward it. Gracie trailed
alongside me, eager to supply her running commentary. “Someone’s
being a dick.”