Page 16 of Lying Hearts

Chapter Ten

Annie

Lock to my apartment: not opening. Drunk drunk drunk drunk drunk. Also pissed as hell. Which, in England, means drunk, so that’s perfect. (burp.)

Ineed new friends. I knew Corinne and I were different, but leaving me at the party? That sucks. I seriously need more friends than just one. But that means talking to people and people are idiots. Jenny was okay but she’s a baby. Why won’t my key work! Oh ha-ha… this is the key to my parent’s house. Oooooh….I’m gonna to throw up. No, wait. It went back down. What was I doing? Oh right. Wait. How’d I get on the floor?

Pulling myself up to a standing position, I turn and slam the door shut. The sound reverberates. I hold my head from the pain of it. The queasiness in my stomach is demanding the calming of some ginger ale, which I know for a fact we don’t have. I do have bubbly water. That might help. I trudge to the kitchen with a surly look on my face. I’m preparing to battle the refrigerator door, too, but my fears are needless. Thank God they don’t put locks on refrigerators. I stick my head in and can’t for the life of me find my Pellegrino. I search and I search and I …

“Hey. It’s you.” A deep voice says, to my left.

I hit my head on one of the racks. “Ouch!”

“Oooh. That had to hurt. You okay?”

I carefully pull my head out and stare, losing my jaw to China.

It’s him.

Standing in my kitchen.

Brendan Clark, ninety percent NAKED.

I’m hallucinating. Someone spiked my booze and I will love that sicko forever and ever.

“I’m better now,” I mumble, staring at the Brendan Hallucination. The light of the open refrigerator highlights his blue eyes, and they are stunning! I look down to see – also outlined by light – a naked chest that could rival any I’ve ever seen in a magazine. Abs that can’t be real, with a chiseled V leading to a barely hidden extra large package. He’s wearing only gray boxer-briefs and his legs have the perfect amount of hair covering the perfect amount of muscles. I want to bite his thighs.

“Even your feet are cute!” I blurt, staring at them.

A small burst of surprised laughter escapes him. “Uh… thank you?” His voice is so deep, the middle of the ocean is jealous. This is the happiest moment of my life.

I look up and smile. I step toward him, and brush my fingers down the line of his cheekbone. He holds his breath as I touch him. I’ve always wanted to know what his full lips felt like, so I trace his bottom lip with the tip of my index finger, ever so softly. He watches me like he doesn’t know why I’m doing this. But this is my dream, so I get to do what I want.

I whisper, “Look at your skin. It’s so beautiful.”

He’s confused, which makes sense. I’m not the type to have dreams where I’m whisked onto the kitchen counter for a good, spontaneous banging. No, I’m the type who dreams realistically, like this, where Brendan Clark is perplexed by the oddity that is Annie O’Brien.

But suddenly a memory crawls out… of him talking to Corinne at the party. We stare at each other as I wake up and a sinking sensation pits in my stomach. “Oh my God. This isn’t a dream.” I retract my hand quickly, mortified. “Corinne brought you home with her??!”

“That’s her name!” He snaps his fingers, hits his hand to his perfect head. He’d been wracking his brain trying to remember.

My heart collapses and I feel vomit threatening. “You forgot her name?”

Guilt flashes across his face and then something else I don’t understand… pride? Did I just see pride in his eyes?

“Of course I remembered. I was just telling you—yep, that’s her name!” He crosses his arms, the muscles tightening. I get trapped staring at them.

I’m stunned. “You forgot her name.” Brendan Clark, the guy who would’ve won the Boyfriend of The Year award - who I’ve always thought was the nicest guy - has just had sex with my friend and does not even remember her name! My heart sinks as I think of Mark, Tommy and Ross, and what asshole players they all are. I always wondered how Brendan could hang out with them. And now I know – like attracts like.

It was just a matter of time before he was turned.

“So, you’re just like them.” I turn to the refrigerator door and shut it so the light stops illuminating him so deliciously. I’m only human. I don’t want to fling myself on his chest and lick Corinne’s perfume off it.

“Just like who?”

“Them! Them! The guys you hang out with. Tommy! Mark! Ross!”

He concentrates on me, considering what I just said. “Did you go to State or something?”