Melted & Shattered (14 page)

The boys seemed confused, but weren’t going to question two hot girls doling out shots. We all
clinked glasses and threw our shots back. I chased it with the vodka and OJ Chris had put in my other hand.

“Whew, you girls go hard,” Dylan said referring to the shots of high end tequila we’d just
drank.

“Go hard or go home, baby,” Chris said, in full swagger mode
. “The pool table’s open. Wanna lose, Dylan?”

What man was going to turn that down? Chris and Dylan went to the pool table, Donte and I following behind them.

“Do you play?” he asked me.

“Nah, not tonight. You?”

“I’d rather hear what you have to say.”

“Say about what?” I asked.

“Anything. I’m assuming it’s ladies night and you left your boyfriends at home?”

I laughed. “Way to fish for our relationship status.”

“You caught me.” Donte flashed his pearly whites at me.

“No boyfriends
. Not our style.”

“What is your style?”

I thought for a moment before answering. What was my style? A 6’5” giant Lakota who rides a motorcycle and has
a plan
. Fuck his plan. “Freedom,” I told Donte. “Freedom is our style. I like room to move.”

“Alright. I can respect that.”

“You puff?”

Donte looked at me sideways. “Like a blunt?”

“Uh, yeah. Like a blunt.”

He laughed. “Honey, that is
not
what I expected to come out of your mouth.”

“Get used to it,” I said with a shrug. Where had I heard those words before?

“Yeah, I puff. You trynna go outside?”

I told him to give me second. I went to Chris
, who was indeed whooping Dylan’s ass at pool. I invited her to join, but she declined, tossing me the truck keys instead. “Go on. Dylan’s not so bad. He’s losing gracefully. I’ll let ya’ll have some time,” she said with a nod towards Donte.

“I love you, biotch,” I whispered in her ear.

She Han Solo-ed me. “I know.” I shoved her in the shoulder as soon as the word’s left her mouth, though she got a grin from me, which I’m sure was her goal.

I motioned for Donte to follow me outside. We got in the truck and sparked the blunt Chris rolled at my house.

“So what’s your deal?” asked Donte.

“Just livin’ the life,” I said, hitting the blunt a few times.

“So I’m not gettin’ much info from you tonight, am I?”

I laughed at his question. He was perceptive, that’s for sure.

“You know, Donte,” I said, turning toward him and handing over the blunt. “I’m trynna have a good time tonight. Life took a shit on me recently, and I’m just looking to enjoy myself this evening. You know, forget everything but this moment. You cool with that?"

Donte puffed the blunt a few times before answering. He might think I was crazy or a bitch, but I really didn’t care. I was well on my way to faded, and I meant every wor
d I said. I just wanted to forget everything and have fun.

“You’re interesting, Elle.”

What the hell does that mean?

“It’s refreshing,” he added. “
I’m down to have a good time.” With that he passed me the blunt. I exhaled the breath I was holding before I inhaled the sticky icky from Chris’ blunt.

“That’s cool. Mind if we save the other half of this for my girl?” I held up the blunt. Donte nodded and we headed back inside.

It was like our second grand entrance at Eight Oh Eight. Everything seemed a bit different, a bit better, maybe a bit more relaxed, or maybe I was just me that was more relaxed. Regardless, I was feelin' mighty fine when we walked over to Chris and Dylan sitting at a table by the pool table. They were engaged in conversation, and Chris looked like she was having a good time. We approached them, and she shoved a drink in my hand.

“Finally
. Tell Dylan that Robin Thicke ain’t got nothin’ on Remy Shand. Elle get over here and set this boy straight.”

“Remy Shand fell off. Robin Thicke is still makin’ music.”
Oh, Dylan was goin' hard with my girl, not something most men had the balls for.

“Remy Shand sang about something. Robin Thicke’s just pop bullshit,” Chris retorted.

I smiled at her. She was in banter mode, which meant she was enjoying herself, for which I was glad. I was a downer as of late, and although I had every reason to be, I’d been a shitty friend to Chris and I knew it. I had no idea what was going on in her life.

“What she said,” I told Dylan, pointing to Chris. “We left you half in the truck.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Wanna piss? And then me and Dylan might slip out.” Like I could say no to the bathroom request. I nodded to her. “We’ll be right back, gentlemen. Don’t go anywhere, OK?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dylan replied. Well damn, apparently he had some swagger
going on too. I followed Chris to the bathroom, anxious to hear what this was all about.

I closed the door of the one stall restroom at Tiny’s, locked the door, and turned to Chris. “Dish. What’s up with you and the jolly white giant?”

“Oh, no. What’s up with you and Shemar Moore?”

“Who?”

“Dylan’s friend.”

“Oh, Donte. Fuck, he does look like Shemar Moore! Damn, bro’s hot. Pass me the flask.”

"I don't have it."

"It's not in your magic purse?"

"You put it in my jacket. The one you're wearing."

I shoved my hand in the pocket of the jacket, and low and behold, a flask of tequila!
I chugged it while Chris peed.

"So?" Chris asked, squatting over the toilet, careful not to touch the seat.

"What?"

"Girl." She looked at me, and I tried to act like I didn't know that she was talking about ole boy Shemar Moore waiting at the bar for us. I was too drunk, though, to front like I was clueless, so I answered truthfully.

“Nothing. We just puffed in the truck. He asked me something about myself and I dodged all questions. I told him I wanted to have fun, and left it at that.”

“Damn, is someone trynna par-tay
tonight?” Chris joked with me. “I like Dylan. He’s cool. Sucks at pool, but can hold his own in a conversation.”

“Sounds like a breath of fresh air.”

“Word, bitch. You gotta go?” I shrugged. Might as well.

After we’d both pissed and touched up our makeup, we went back to find Dylan and Shemar Moore still at the table. There was a
round of drinks and shots laid out and waiting for us.

“We got drinks,” Dylan shared.

We grabbed our shots and held them in the air. “What are we toasting to?” Donte/Shemar Moore asked.

Right then Dr. Dre’s remix of Bag Lady came on the
jukebox. “To packing light.” Everyone nodded at my declaration.

In that moment, I wanted to pack light in my head. I wanted to let go of all the pain, worry, anger, bitterness, sadness, and every other emotion that
I was carrying in my heart and head. I loved him. I couldn’t fight it, but that didn’t mean I had to stop living my life. It didn’t mean I had to wait for him in a chastity belt. Fuck that. I wasn’t going to stop talking to men because he told me to or because he had a
plan
that he may or may not return from. If that plan even happened, because I had no idea what was going on with him. Maybe I’d always love him, or maybe it’d fade. I wasn’t sure since I’d never been in love before, but either way, I was packing light. Even if it was only for one night.

We all clinked glasses and downed the shots. Donte pierced me with some seriously intense eyes.
Shit, my nipples were tingling, hadn’t felt that in a while.

“Dance?” I asked him. There were already a few couple
s grinding in front of the jukebox.

Donte looked to his friend. “Go on, man. We’re gonna finish that blunt ya’ll started,” Dylan said, nodding toward Chris. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows, the
is that so
look. She winked at me. Well, hot damn. How often did a couple gals come across two cool dudes? Someone always got stuck with the loser, but tonight the stars were lining up for us. I slammed the vodka and OJ that I assumed was on the table for me, and grabbed Donte’s hand. Leading him to the dancing area, I started grinding my booty on his crotch as he followed behind me.

Scream by Ursher came on the
jukebox, and Donte leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “Girl, let the man lead for a minute will ya?” Shit, I wasn’t sure if I knew how to do that.

Donte spun me around, so we were face to face. Have you ever seen Step Up, the dancing movie? No? Me neither. But I saw the previews and I think that’s what Dont
e started doing. He spun me out and held me at arms length, a grin and intense eyes trained on me. Right as the song picked up, he spun me back, grabbed my hips and moved us like we were in a music video. I was drunk and this was my personal heaven. I let him lead. He moved us around the dancing area with ease. With my back to him, he lifted my hands in the air and ran his fingers down my arms. I turned to look at him over my shoulder, and I’m sure I looked him up and down with pure sex in my eyes. He’d have to be blind to miss it.

As his hands traveled down my bare arms, goose bumps rose on my skin and liquid heat pooled between my legs. He was moving his hands achingly slow, drawing the movement out. When he finally got to my shoulders, I kept my arms in the ai
r. I was frozen in a sex haze, when he grabbed my hips and spun me back forwards, so we were face to face. He kicked my legs open and placed one of his in between. We continued moving to the beat, him leading the show. I felt his cock straining to get out of his pants. I rubbed myself on it—and, crap, I think I moaned. Fuck it. I was packing light in my head, so I was going to let that one go and keep enjoying myself. The song came to and end and Donte stared at me, as if to ask
what’s next
.

Chris and Dylan came in as I was giving Donte sex eyes. “You wanna cut outta here?”
Donte asked me.

Perfect timing.
I didn’t even stop to think about it. “Yeah. Lemme get my girl. We’re a package deal. Your boy coming with us?”

“We’re roommates.” Seriously, could the stars have lined up any more perfectly?

I asked Chris if she was down to check these boys’ place out. She knew what that meant.

“Are you sure?” she asked me.

“Nope. So let’s get out of here before I think too hard about it.”

******

We followed the guys to their house, which wasn’t far from my place. Whereas I lived in an older house broken down into four apartments, they lived in an older house still intact with two other guys. Both of which were out of town, thus leaving us the house for shenanigans.

I could tell something about Chris was off. She seemed into Dylan, but he wasn’t her usual type, so that could’ve been throwing her for a loop. She could be worried about me, but I really didn’t want to dwell on any of that. I was pleasantly fucked up, and ready to have some fun. I wanted the old Elle and Chris back. Not that we hooked up with roommates as a habit. I wanted to feel like the pre-J Elle I used to be. The one who was smooth and detached. The one who wasn’t fighting to keep the war in her head from spiraling out of control in
to a full on panic attack.

“Do we have more weed?”

Chris looked at me like I’d pulled her out of a trance. “Uh, yeah, I think so. Check my purse.” She nodded her head to the back of the truck.

“I’ll look at the guy
s' house.”

“You trynna get hammered?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

Normally, Chris would call me on my shrug and evasive answer, but she lapsed back into thought. I decided I needed to be numb in order to have a goo
d time and keep the war at bay, and that meant a blunt.

The guys showed us into their place. We walked into what was probably supposed to be a dining room. To the left was a kitchen with a breakfast bar. To the right was the living room. The guys said their rooms were upstairs, and the other two guys’ rooms were on the main floor and one in the basement.

“Ya’ll got a wrap so I can make a blunt?”

Donte nodded to Dylan who ran upstairs. He came down with a Swisher Sweet.

“Grape. Nice. Think you could cut it and empty it for me?” I always fucked that part up. The filling and rolling I was good at. Chris usually cut and emptied. She actually did the whole blunt process, but tonight I was feeling the need to be aggressive in my moves.

“No problem. You got something to fill it with or you need some?” Dylan asked as he slid the knife down the side of the cigar.

I dug in Chris’ purse. “Nah, I got some.” I pulled out a baggie with enough nuggs to make a nice fat blunt. “You got a plate or something I can break it up on?”

I was leaning up against the kitchen counter. Donte came up and reached over me to a cupboard above my head. His body was less than an inch from mine, and I could smell his cologne. It was spicy and robust, in contrast to J’s oceanic earth smell
. I shook my head. No J. Not tonight. Fuck J.