Off Limits (13 page)

Groaning, I
shouted “just text me,” and hung up. Then I text him ‘just text me’ in case he
hadn’t heard me. I didn’t turn around when I felt someone behind me. It was
bound to be Luke. Instead, I read the text message my dad had just sent.

I found somewhere
new to be staying that’s safe for you to come and visit. 23 Osbourne Avenue. I
hope to see you soon xxx

I hashed out that
I’d go and see him tomorrow. I’d let Luke get his break-up out of the way and
then I’d explain to Phoebe what had really happened. May as well make the blows
fast. At least she had other friends that would help her out and make her feel
better.

I was forced to
turn around and face Luke, who was pouring two shots on the table. “Your dad?”

“Yeah, he’s moved
somewhere new. He says I can go and see him. I’m gonna go tomorrow.” We were
forced to stand close to hear each other over the music, but I kept my gaze
solidly on the shot glass Luke handed to me. Being close felt so natural now,
it made my heart race because I had the memories of how good being with him
was.

“I’ll come with
you,” Luke offered, holding up his fingers so that we could down the shot
together.

We both grimaced
as the harsh liquid hit our throats. “You don’t have to do that,” I denied. “If
my dad says I can go visit him, then he must be staying somewhere fine.”

“No offence, but I
don’t trust that. I’d rather I just came with you.”

“You can’t babysit
me. I’m supposed to be staying away from you.” The music masked our
conversation from anyone else, but I still sent a suspicious glance around the
room. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll come with
you tomorrow to make sure it’s okay and then you can go by yourself every other
time. Deal?”

I hesitated,
bouncing on my heels before giving in. I wanted Luke to come. I wanted him to
be a permanent feature who just came with me to do stuff because we both felt
like it, but I should have been pushing against any kind of contact with him.
“Deal.”

“Good.”

We stood awkwardly
for a second longer, before I pulled away from Luke completely and poured
myself another drink.

“Do you reckon
we’ll get to midnight for the champagne?” Luke inquired, taking the vodka from
me and pouring himself a drink. “I think Phoebe is already out of it.”

I shrugged, “I’m
not sure champagne would have been my kind of drink anyway.”

“What is your
favourite kind of drink?” The music had lulled slightly. No doubt it would be
blasting again in a second, but for now, I tried to think of how I was going to
resist standing close to Luke to be heard again.

I couldn’t let
myself give in to what I wanted.

I considered his
question for a moment. “Rosé wine, I think. It’s nice and fruity. It’s not like
I get to drink very often. When I’m finally eighteen it’s not likely to end
well.”

Luke fired me a
genuine grin that caused me cheeks to heat up. He must have drank a lot already
to be this comfortable around me, but I couldn’t bring myself to question it
too much. I just loved having those real smiles sent my way. Even the constant
bickering had been better than the awkward silences we were going to find
ourselves in after tonight. “I’m not really keen to be honest. I mean, I like
getting drunk, but I just mix spirits with stuff so that it’s like I’m not
really drinking alcohol. I cheat my way through it.”

We shared a laugh.
And Luke retrieved the shot glasses once more. “I’m not sure I know any
drinking games for two, but I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“I’m not sure-”
the music kicked in halfway through my sentence and Luke smirked, gesturing to
his ears and pouring the shots despite what had obviously been a protest.

He sidled back
beside me so that we were far too close. People had pretty much vacated the
kitchen, too, having taken drinks with them. Phoebe’s house was so massive and
she had three rooms dedicated to loud music and dancefloors downstairs. There
wasn’t really any need for people to be in the kitchen.

Except if you were
avoiding all the action, like Luke and I had apparently decided to.

“Staring contest,”
Luke decided, voice tickling my ear as he stepped around to the other side of
the thin counter we were beside.

I grinned. I’d
always been good at these and Luke knew it; he really must have just wanted to
get blackout drunk tonight. After counting down with his fingers, Luke and I
leaned over the counter to look at each other with wide eyes. Luke had no hope.
My eyes weren’t even stinging yet.

Until he leant
forward and placed the quickest peck on my lips. I blinked in astonishment and
then outrage and then horror. “
Luke
.”

He shrugged and
gestured to my shot. “I never said I wasn’t going to play dirty.”

There was no one
in the kitchen and Luke must have known it. There wasn’t even a chance anyone
could have walked in and seen it considering how fast the contact had been, but
I was still mortified. “You can’t just do that.”

We’d had to stand
close again just so that Luke could hear my anger over the current track. I
pulled a face when I realised it was Phoebe’s favourite song – she’d always
loved it and insisted on listening to it even though I despised it. “I know,
but it was just so tempting. In an ideal world, I just wouldn’t have pulled
back.”

My eyebrows
knitted together helplessly. “Luke, you’re too drunk for this. I can’t deal
with it. I can’t be near you, it’s not right. I’m supposed to be staying as far
away from you as possible,” My eyes were glued to the door in case someone
walked in.

Luke’s fingers
brushed against my hip and I swallowed. I hadn’t expected him to be completely
shameless when he was wasted. “This is shit.”

I shot him a
rueful smile and removed his hand. “Yes. Now deal with it and stop doing this
stuff. It’s not fair to anyone, including yourself. I’m going to dance with
Phoebe and pretend I don’t hate myself now, please don’t do anything stupid.”

It was a bit of a
bare-faced lie. There was no way I could bring myself to go anywhere near
Phoebe right now, but I needed to send things home to him. He was being
reckless, practically in self-destruct mode, and I couldn’t let that happen. He
needed to tell Phoebe it was over when he was sober that would be fine for him.
Luke and Phoebe weren’t meant to be together, he could get over it.

I walked back into
the main room with a fake smile plastered all over my face. I didn’t speak to
anyone here and I had no desire to get to know anyone.

I just wanted my
bed.

Phoebe collapsed
onto the sofa beside me a moment later, nuzzling her face into my shoulder and
getting foundation all over my black dress. “You okay?” I checked with her. “Having
a good time.”

“Such a good
time,” she sighed in contentment and spilled a bit of her drink on my leg. “I
wish Luke would come and dance with me though. He’s being all awkward about
it.”

“Dancing really
doesn’t sound like his kind of thing,” I chuckled, grateful she couldn’t
observe my face. Part of me thought I should make the most of tonight, be the
best friend I could be, because I wasn’t going to be able to after this
weekend.

“It’s definitely
your kind of thing, though,” Phoebe urged, removing her head from my shoulder
and throwing me what she thought was an enticing grin. She must be nearly ready
to pass out. “We always kill it at parties. You have to dance with me at mine.
Have you not been drinking?” She waved a hand in front of my face as if it was
some kind of test. “Really?”

I rolled my eyes,
the alcohol definitely weighing on my head, just not quite as much as Phoebe
just yet. “I have been drinking,” I assured her, holding up my glass and
downing it for effect. “And I can definitely dance.” It hadn’t ended up being
such a lie to Luke after all.

She beamed,
dragging me into the swathes of people with her and swaying her hips to the
pounding music. Phoebe was a great dancer – her ballet skills transferred well
into grinding on people on the dance floor too, it seemed. I tried to keep up,
rolling my body in time and ending up enjoying myself more than I liked to
admit. I
had
always enjoyed dancing and Phoebe led the way perfectly so
that I could just copy her moves and feel good about myself.

I left the dance floor
in with a grin on my face and tears in my eyes. My body couldn’t allow complete
happiness tonight. This was one of the reasons Phoebe was my best friend. We
had fun together. She was my only real friend, but it didn’t matter because
even if we weren’t very similar, we complimented each other perfectly. We just
enjoyed ourselves.

I trudged up the
stairs with a heavy heart and went to use the toilet. Upstairs was off limits
to the general partygoer, but I knew Phoebe wouldn’t object. The downstairs
toilet would have been packed, anyway. No doubt it had reached the stage in the
evening when people started throwing up.

When I left the
bathroom, having made sure no tears fell, I was met by a solid wall of chest. I
opened my mouth to ask Luke what he thought he was doing, but his lips
descending on mine prevented any words. He guided me inside the bathroom,
shutting the door again before I had time to process anything other than
desire.

Our mouths were
hot and insistent, moulding together like it was already natural for us to be
intimate and our hands followed suit, roaming each other’s bodies as much as
was possible through the layers of clothes. Luke’s fingers danced up my exposed
thigh and I swallowed, trying to break through my enamoured, drunk haze to
remember that I was being a bitch.

I managed to make
the hands I had laced through Luke’s hair pull him away and I turned away,
crossing my arms across my stomach whilst I tried to recover. “I told you to
stop.”

“Carmen-”

“I can’t do this.”

“I want to do
this,” Luke took a step closer to me and placed one hand on my shoulder. “I
just like you Carmen. I don’t want to have to stay away from you. I already
know you’re planning on telling Phoebe what’s happened, I can see it in your
face whenever you look at her. It wouldn’t be like you to stay friends with
her, anyway. Why can’t we be together after that? If we’re going to be
together, what difference does it make if I kiss you now when you look so
beautiful?”

I swallowed back
my immediate responses and tried to think what the right thing to say was.
“You’re drunk,” I settled on eventually, shoulders slumping. What he was saying
was ridiculous, but not really untrue. If Phoebe hated both of us, why not give
a relationship a shot?

“I don’t deserve
that. I don’t deserve to get a shot to try and be happy with you,” I let myself
turn around and observe his face. “I’ve been the worst kind of person.”

Luke didn’t
respond in words, but leant forwards and pressed a peck to my forehead. He was
buying time to think of something to say himself. “You deserve happiness.”

“And you think
you’d make me happy?”

Luke pulled a face
and I cracked, laughter spreading across my face. “I’m sorry, it was just so
tempting. Old habits die hard.” I clutched at my stomach and tried to retain
the hope that was filling me. If Luke really wanted to give this a shot, then
of course I was going to accept, even if I thought I didn’t deserve it. “Not
tonight, though. I can’t, not in Phoebe’s house.” My smile fell. “I meant that,
before, by the way. I don’t think I deserve to be happy with you. Our
relationship would probably be doomed from the start.”

Luke started to
lean forwards before remembering what I’d said. “Well, you’re going to tell
Phoebe the truth anyway, I think we should try and make this work,” he
swallowed and looked almost embarrassed as he tucked a strand of hair behind my
ear. “I really like you, as much as I hate to admit it.”