Page 118 of A Foster Fling
“You’re cut off.” Buddy says before he even turns all the way around.
“What?” I yell slamming a palm to my chest in mock insult. Kind of. “Me? I’m not even drunk!” I furrow my brows in genuine confusion.
When he does turn around I smile into his glowing glass eye. It’s always fascinated me with its swirling golds and shining silvers. Throw in his clunky prosthetic leg and he’s a genuine space pirate. He’s also one of the few people I trust.
“Maybe not but if your music selections are any indication it’s only downhill from here. One Direction? Really, Sayler?” Buddy cringes and tosses my cup into the sink.
“You’re really cutting me off?” I laugh remembering I had started up the song just before being drug outside to be railed from behind. “Fine. Give me a soda then you old fart. And honestly, you knew who they were and that’s on you.” I point at him and he shoos me off, handing me a new glass.
I chuckle and hop down from my stool wincing at the chronic pain in my ankle. One of the only physical reminders of the past left long behind. I ran, and it cost me dearly. How so? I can’t close my eyes without the memories, and I can’t take a step without reliving the pain.
I move back to our table Ignoring the throb. No sooner do I sit down and I realize I need to pee.
“Crap. I’ll be right back again.” There’s a few groans at the table, and I roll my eyes gliding to the bathroom.
Halfway there some dude cuts me off and I slam into him almost falling on my ass. I don’t have time to glare at him, so I just growl and storm around him to the door. Why a bar in a town with a population of seventeen hundred needed ten stalls I’ll never know but at least you never have to wait in line.
I do my business and try to figure out what cologne the walking tree had been wearing because damn did he smell good. Like bourbon and leather and…apple pie? Too much Supernatural.
Don’t look at me like that, we’ve all done some stranger sniffing.
I wash my hands and once again head back to the table. I take the empty seat next to Caerus and steal his cigarette smashing it out in the ashtray. He doesn’t even flinch just sighs and crosses his arms. He’s been trying to quit for weeks and I’m his biggest supporter. It’s my fault he ever started and every time I remember why, my stomach turns.
“I took your turn for you.” He says turning to me and sticking his tongue out.
“Should I thank you?” I ask taking a big gulp from my cup.
I sit forward and flinch when I catch my ankle on the table leg. I rub at the sore spot and turn to Caerus who is looking at me with a raised brow. He’s a record holder for pool. For the last four years.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t ask. Your ankle is worse than you said it was.” He tugs a hank of my hair and throws his arm over my chair.
“I swear it was fine when we left. I think it’s these damn boots.”
“No way. The forty-pound boots you refused to change are causing you pain?” He glares at me and turns away shaking his head. “You can’t ignore it forever.”
My boots are not just combat boots. They have a secret compartment in the soles, a blade in the left that has been removed for reasons not mentioned, and the laces are paracord. I always wear them on outings with my ID and money safely stashed inside. Call me cautious.
“They aren’t that heavy the ankles just run a little low. Give me your keys I’ll get my sneakers out of the car.” I hold my hand out standing from my chair. “And, by the way, I’m not ignoring it. I just can’t remember.”
He gives me a dubious look and shakes his head. He’s always alert to danger because he was there with me for everything at the home. Except he doesn’t remember all of it and it bothers him to no end. Being able to account for everything that goes on in his head is very important to him.
He suffers from nightmares related to an incident he doesn’t even remember.
“No I’ll get them.” He grabs my thigh settling me back in place.
“No really, I’ll get them. The smoke is giving me a headache.” I wave him off. “You can watch me from the door.”
“I can watch huh?” He grins turning to me once again, running his hand dangerously high.
My eyes hold his and I lean in to squint at him opening my legs wider in challenge. His fingers tighten and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. He relents after a few moments and grumbles lifting his butt to hand me the keys.
I stand first, leaning down to bite his earlobe lightly and press a kiss to his cheek. He sighs again and catches my mouth with a sweet kiss as he stands to follow me.
We’re about to cross the threshold and I hear him curse behind me. I turn lifting a brow. His arms are stretched over his head exposing a thin line of his pale abs. That combined with the flush in his cheeks and his short-tousled curls make him look insanely boyish and so damn cute.
“What’s the matter?”
“I have to piss. Wait for me.” He chucks my chin and turns for the bathroom.