Chapter 17 - Lights
I leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of my coffee, admiring the way Slate's back muscles tensed under his black t-shirt as he stretched to grab the bottle of aspirin from the cupboard. He handed me the bottle before turning away to pour milk and sugar into his coffee.
I poured two white pills into my hand and my stomach churned just staring at them. They looked way too similar to the pill Blondie gave me last night. I knew Slate would never try and drug me but I still didn't want to swallow another pill for a very long time. I poured the pills back into the bottle when Slate wasn't looking.
I'd already made my decision that I wasn't going to tell them what happened last night, I've been the damsel in distress too many times over the last month and I was over it. Before I met the boys I was always independent and I took care of myself and I wanted it to stay that way.
Telling the truth would only make them more angry and they'd want to find Blondie, so I would just lie and tell them a more tamed version of the story and act like it was no big deal, because it wasn't. I didn't want Blondie to get in trouble either, maybe I was too nice but I was fine aside from a tiny cut on my head.
I heard loud foot steps and soon Christian entered the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his waist, showing off the band of his Calvin Klein boxers. He was shirtless and I would've been lying if I said his body wasn't drool worthy. His abs were just as defined as Slate's, the only difference was that Christian was less tan but I still had to force my eyes away from his body. Christian winked at me when he saw me staring. Slate grabbed a cloth off the counter and threw it at Christian.
"Chris put a damn shirt on and stop trying to seduce my girl." Slate spoke, humour lacing his words. And god, I knew he was only teasing when he referred to me as 'his girl', but I could feel myself melting.
"Nah, I'm good." Christian grinned, walking over and grabbing Slate's fresh cup of coffee and taking a sip.
"Yeah, cool, I wasn't drinking that or anything." Slate said sarcasm dripping from his tone as he went over to the coffee maker and poured himself a new cup. Christian turned and gave me a wink before taking a seat at one of the bar chairs, Slate sat down next to him just a second later and soon we were enveloped in semi silence, the only noise being Rolex's soft snores and the humming from the refrigerator. They were both staring at me patiently and I knew exactly what they were waiting for, they wanted me to explain what happened last night. I released a small sigh as I went and sat down at the stool across the counter from them.
"There's not much to say, Cherry and I went out and then she ditched me and I guess somewhere along the way my drink got spiked." I said giving them a forced smile. There was no way I was going to tell them about the yacht and my parents kicking me out, they've done way more than enough for me and I wasn't planning to make myself a burden on them once again.
I'm planning to stay at the five star hotel I had Dorian drive my car to. I can afford it since I still have my credit card that gives me access to way more many than a girl my age could possibly need and I knew my parents well enough to know they wouldn't cancel it. Otherwise I'd have to live on the street, and although my parents are cruel and neglectful they aren't completely evil.
"Who was the guy on the phone?" Slate asked and I couldn't tell if he believed my explanation or not.
"I don't know? Probably the bartender, I left my phone on the bar at one point and I guess he answered it and said I was busy." The lie came out of my mouth so effortlessly that I almost believed it. I hated how easy it was, guilt slid down my spine; a familiar friend over the years.
"No offence, but Cherry's a bîtch." Christian relented, accepting my explanation whether he believed it or not. I looked to Slate and saw he was staring at his coffee with his jaw clenched, lost in thought.
"She's had a rough past." I defended lightly, vaguely aware that wasn't always a valid excuse. I'd used it myself plenty times too though, hadn't we all used our past hurt as an excuse before? Slate cut in to the conversation, impatient with my excuses.
"How did you get the cut on your forehead?" I found myself hating that I was the reason his normally smooth velvety voice sounded harsh and jarring. His question surprised me, throwing me off guard simply because it was Slate who'd asked me. His eyes were boring into mine, drilling me for truth, begging me not to lie, at least not to him.
"Someone smashed my phone and one of the pieces of glass cut my forehead." It wasn't a lie, I'd left out some of the details but it was still the truth. A deep sense of comfort enveloped me, as I stared back at him as he studied my face, searching for a lie. He was so good for me.
"How the hell do you remember all of this?"
I shrugged, unsure myself but grateful for it.
"I always remember what happened when I was drunk, my brother too." I shrugged, noticing the mention of Jace seemed to peak Slate's interest. I suddenly remembered when I'd explained to Slate that I'd lied to my brother's ex-bestfriend about Jace's whereabouts because no one was supposed to know where he was. Something told me he was curious to know where Jace was and that was something I planned to keep a secret. I was suddenly uncomfortable with his attention, so I did the only thing I could think of.
"Christian, did you tell Slate what happened to the TV?" I asked not hiding my amused smirk as I watched Christian shaking his head side to side with wide eyes begging me to stop talking. This was payback for him forcing me to watch a horror movie in the first place.
"What the hell did you do to my TV?" Slate questioned, turning to look at Christian accusingly.
"It's not my fault, Willow made me do it." Christian said turning the blame on me and sending me a discrete smirk. My mouth dropped open in surprise as Slate's accusing stare became directed at me.
"It was your idea to watch a movie about a creepy clown going around murdering teenagers!" I yelled pointing my finger at Christian.
"I'm the innocent one here, you handed me the baseball bat, I was just fulfilling my duties to keep you safe." Christian said raising his arms in defence, as an amused smile made its way to his lips.
"Let me get this clear, you two idiots smashed the TV with a baseball bat because you were scared of a clown in a movie?" Slate asked putting extra emphasis on the last three words.
"Well when you say it like that it just makes us sound stupid." Christian said and I nodded in agreement. Slate took a slow sip from his cup of coffee, and Christian sent me an alarmed look, clearly thinking the same thing I was; Slate was much too calm. If there was one thing I knew about Slate it's that he absolutely loved that beautiful 120 inch flat screen TV.
Before I knew it Slate was on his feet with a vindictive smile on his face that gave me chills. Christian and I locked eyes and he immediately yelled "RUN!".
I didn't need to be told twice. I immediately followed Christian's lead and ran out of the kitchen. I could hear Slate right on my heals and I watched Christian do a beeline for his bedroom, which just happened to be the closest of the two. I cursed under my breath and changed my route, racing towards Slate's room, his door has a lock so if I could just make it to his room and get the door shut I would be safe from his wrath. Slate's footsteps were coming closer and closer and just as I stepped through the doorframe and into Slate's room a pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist and lifted me off my feet. I let out a high pitched scream as Slate carried me to his bed, not loosening his grip on me in the least.
"I've got you now." Slate whispered in my ear before dropping me onto his bed on my back. I lay there frozen, holding my breath as he crawled on top of me, straddling my hips. He grabbed both of my wrists and held them together over my head with one hand. I swallowed hard, cursing my darn hormones as I felt my body begging for his touch. He smiled smugly at me clearly enjoying the way my body responded to him.
"You've been a bad girl Willow..." Slate whispered in a husky voice as he brought his head close to mine, his lips hovered an inch above mine and I found myself unable to pull my eyes away from his. "And do you know what I do to bad girls?" He said tracing the arch of my jaw with his lips. I felt my back arching into him, and I saw him smirk, clearly enjoying having all the control.
"You let them go with a warning and a stern pat on the back?" I replied, my voice hopeful as I tried to act unaffected by Slate's wandering lips. He chuckled at my reply.
"Not quite, keep guessing." He mumbled clearly amused by this situation and I probably would've rolled my eyes and scoffed at him if I wasn't so distracted by his touch. I racked my brain trying to come up with any response whatsoever but as I felt his rough hands on my bare thighs, making their way under his oversized t-shirt that I was currently wearing as a dress, my mind went completely blank and I forgot how to talk.
"Cat got your tongue, baby?" Slate murmured lowly against my skin as he left a trail of soft kisses up my thigh, teasing me. My hands yearned to touch him, to trail themselves along his perfectly tan skin. I released a satisfied moan which seemed to encourage him even more. With each kiss he left on my burning skin, my desire increased significantly and just as his lips made there way to the band of my black lace panties he pulled away leaving me stunned and embarrassingly aroused.
"That was your punishment." Slate said smirking as he released my wrists and I immediately sat up on the bed pulling the shirt back down so that it was covering my previously exposed thighs. I used my hair to hide the sheepish blush that fought it's way to my cheeks.
"It seems like that was just as much your punishment as it was mine." I said as my eyes trailed over him and I noticed the all too familiar bulge in his pants.
"I was fine until you started moaning." Slate grumbled, as he rolled off the bed and made his way to the on suite bathroom where I could only assume he was planning on taking care of his "business".
The sound of Slate's phone vibrating loudly from it's place on the bed side table caught my attention and I immediately rolled over to see who it was. I had a feeling it was going to be from Christian, teasing us about the moans coming from Slate's room. What I didn't expect was to see a picture text from a girl named Tasha that was of her wearing only a skimpy pink bra. Under the picture were four words that made my entire body vibrate with an overwhelming amount of jealousy:
I miss you already.
I got off the bed quickly, and ran out of Slate's room not even bothering to stop and grab by blue dress from last night. Christian must've heard my rushed footsteps because I heard the sound of his door swinging open just as I was nearing the apartment door.
"Willow?" He questioned clearly confused by my abrupt departure. I didn't say anything in reply and I didn't turn back as I pulled the door open and walked out of it, slamming the door closed behind me as I rushed into the elevator and clicked the lobby button repeatedly until the doors finally slid shut leaving me alone with my thoughts.
What could I have said? I couldn't explain the anger and jealousy that was burning in my chest. I had no reason to be mad. Slate and I were nothing and we would never be anything. So why did the fact that he had been with other girls while he was away bother me so goddamn much? More than that, why did it surprise me? I've known he was a womanizer since I met him that first night at the club and I was foolish to think that would change just because we'd gotten close.
As soon as the elevator doors slid open on the ground floor, I rushed out, not caring that I was wearing nothing but one of Slate's large t-shirts.
The hotel that I'd ordered Dorian, to book me a room at and drive my car to, was only a couple minute walk away from the guys apartment. Luckily it was only eight in the morning on a Sunday so the streets weren't too busy. When I arrived at the front desk and I told them my name, they immediately handed me my room key without a question and informed me that my bags had already been brought up yesterday when Dorian dropped them off.
I spent the entire day in my hotel room watching tv and studying, and never before had I been more thankful that I didn't have a phone. I didn't want to talk to Christian or Slate or anyone for that matter.
Sometime during the afternoon I had apparently fallen asleep because when I woke up it was dark outside and the alarm clock next to my bed read 4:07am. I got off the comfortable bed and grabbed a pair of red silk pyjama shorts and a matching tank top from my duffle bag and changed into them.
I pulled my long hair up into a high ponytail and made my way out onto my large private balcony that stared out over the massive skyscrapers that made up the city. I stared at all the bright lights that contrasted beautifully with the dark sky and I found myself unable to look away.
As I stood on the balcony staring out at the vibrant city, I let the familiar feeling of loneliness envelope me. I loved every minute of it, I bathed in it, because nothing else ever made me feel as free as being completely and utterly alone. I could do whatever I wanted and no one would care. I could just get up and disappear and no one would even bat an eye. Call me crazy, but there was something so utterly comforting in all of that, that I'd somehow found peace in the loneliness and it became my escape.
I'm not sure how long I stayed on that balcony just lost in my own thoughts but when I did finally go to bed the sun was already rising.
A/N
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