Consumed (Addicted to You Book 1) (18 page)

Colby managed to take longer to get ready than I would have if I’d changed three times, but when she walked out in a short, tight sparkly blue dress I realized why. She was all about being the center of attention and having all eyes on her when she walked in and given her appearance in our apartment, that was all but a guarantee.

“You look like a celebrity,” I said honestly, envious that anyone could appear that flawless.

“Thanks,” she blushed. “We are going to be the hottest chicks there.”

“We always are,” I lied and laughed.

The cab got us to the address about twenty minutes after the start of the party, a fact that Colby dubbed as perfect for an entrance.

“Fashionably late is best,” she’d cooed as we made our way up the elevator.

I had no clue how she’d landed us an invite to a place on the Gold Coast and I didn’t want to ask. I just hoped that it was something that I would enjoy.

“Welcome ladies,” a young Hispanic man greeted us as we entered the apartment and I saw Colby smile from ear to ear. She was in her element and I assumed somewhere in the large crowd of people was a man that had felt honored to invite her to attend.

“I’m going to find a drink,” I told her, already feeling the buzz from a single beer and wanting to escape the swarms of people I didn’t know. “Come find me in a bit,” I finished as I walked off.

Colby and I had this down pat. She did her thing and I did mine. Then we’d meet. Not that I really attended parties.

Turned out, the event was nothing like we’d expected it to be. Even Colby was bored. Yes, we’d both gotten attention, but it was an older crowd. Much older. And far more mellow than my friend could handle. I think we were only there about half an hour when she hunted me down and asked to leave.

“Let’s go somewhere,” she begged as we waited for a cab.

“I can’t,” I stammered, feeling somewhat drunk from the two drinks at the party. “I need to go home.”

“This is why you eat Ave,” she shook her head. “So you can drink and enjoy yourself.”

“Is that it?” I laughed. “Well there’s beer at the apartment. Let’s go back there and drink and talk about how awesome we look and how old those dudes were!”

I heard her giggle and she nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” she took my hand just as a cab pulled up to the curb. “Let’s go.”

The entire cab ride Colby was talking nonstop about guys she had met at the party. One was an insurance salesman. One had been the CEO of a big name company that I couldn’t remember five minutes after hearing it. Even as we got off the stairs on our floor and headed around the corner to our door she was still talking.

“So he was like sixty at least,” she laughed. “But oh my word he had some money.”

I kept my head facing down to avoid the way the hall was spinning in front of me. I couldn’t believe that a couple of drinks had affected me the way that they had.

“Maybe I should stop going to the bar looking for Mr Right,” she continued rambling, unaware that I could barely understand her words. “Maybe I should settle for a sugar da……what are you doing here?”

The change in her words and the tone of her voice made me look up. The moment our eyes met, I dropped the purse I’d been clutching and found myself struggling to breathe.

“Spencer,” I managed to whisper.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked, eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”

I nodded at him, but couldn’t make the words come out.

“She’s drunk,” Colby spat at him. “Now go home.”

“Can we talk Avery?” Before Colby had a chance to tell him no or order him to leave again, I nodded agreement.

Spencer was back. He loved me. He’d come back for me. Just like I’d hoped he would. And I was almost too drunk to understand it.

Colby was pissed that I’d agreed, yelled at me and then stormed off to her bedroom where she slammed the door. She wanted no part of it. I knew that she’d continue to be angry, but I spent the evening talking to Spencer anyway.

He took care of me, making coffee and helping me to sober up. He also forced me to eat, saying I looked like a skeleton and it upset him. I did whatever he asked me to.

Over the course of a few hours, he apologized repeatedly and told me that he didn’t think he could go on without me. He wanted another chance. Another opportunity to give me what I deserved. He felt horrible for leaving and knew that I should tell him to go to hell. That’s what he told me.

I listened. I always listened. But the reality was that I didn’t have a choice. Everything inside of me loved him and I would take him back without question, pretending he’d never really went away. But for that moment I had him there and I took advantage.

I yelled at him. I asked him questions. I cried. That’s what I did most was cry. He held me and I cried. Then at the end I did what I’d known I’d do all along. I forgave him and agreed to take him back. I held him, kissed him and told him I loved him.

About four in the morning, Spencer made his way home with promises of being by the following day. He missed me and wanted to spend some time together before the work week started again.

As soon as the front door closed, Colby’s bedroom door opened. I watched her walk out, eyes on the floor and body hunched.

“Avery, please tell me you didn’t?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Anyone that knew me would know the answer.

“I did,” I whispered.

“And next time?” she asked.

“There won’t be a next time,” I replied.

“Yes there will,” she shrugged.

“Colby, just be happy for me,” I begged her. “Please?”

“I can’t,” she sat in the recliner. “I can’t be happy for you Ave,” she kept talking. “he’s going to destroy you again. I can’t sit here and pretend he won’t. I can’t pretend I’m happy for you.”

“So what are you saying?” her tone wasn’t angry. It was defeated.

“I’m saying you have to choose Avery,” she looked me in the eye. “You have to choose between Spencer and me. If you want to continue with him, I can’t be your friend anymore.”

The words hit me like a brick in the gut. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I picked up my things and headed in the direction of my room without a sound.

“Avery,” she called to me and I turned around, seeing her through a film of tears. “I mean it. Who are you going to choose?”

I thought for a minute and felt my head cock sideways, my mouth twist up and my eyes scrunch as if I was shocked she would even ask.

“I’ll choose the one that never asked me to,” I said calmly. “I choose Spencer.”

Chapter 21

“I didn’t mean….” I started when I was finally able to lift up my head. “I just…”

“It’s cool,” Luke blew it off. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“Nah, it’s not that,” I looked down.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Can you make it where I can’t feel?” I asked genuinely. “That’s what I need. TO feel nothing.”

“I’m sure I can,” he laughed. “I’m not sure you’d like it.”

“If it made me numb, I’d love it and you,” I spoke softly, barely able to breathe in and breathe out.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he teased. “I still haven’t gotten your phone number.”

“So can you really do it?” I asked, ignoring his remark. “Or are you fucking with me?”

“Not yet,” he teased, keeping up the same line of jokes that I was avoiding.

I didn’t think about his supposed interest in me. It wasn’t going to happen. Once I had the heart to tell him that, I would. But at that moment all that was on my mind was his positive answer from moments before. If he knew how to numb what was inside I needed to do it. Telling him he didn’t have a chance might just ruin the one he was half-assed offering me.

“Oh I can,” I tried not to look at him, terrified he would smile again and send my body reeling. “But I don’t think it’s your cup of tea.”

“Don’t make assumptions about me!” I snapped, livid that he wouldn’t answer me. “I’m in a terrible place right now”

“Have you ever done drugs?” He asked softly, making sure no one was listening.

“I smoked a blunt once in college,” it was a fact I’d told very few people.

I was always afraid people would judge me badly for having tried marijuana. That’s the main reason I didn’t share that story with anyone.

But Luke was the opposite of what I expected. He cocked his head in that Spencer style and let out the loudest and most authentic laugh I’d ever heard.

I wondered why he’d asked. Was it because of my actions? Maybe he believed I was high on something.

“You are bad!” he said mockingly. “I don’t know if I can be friends with someone who lives such a risky and illicit lifestyle.”

“Shut the hell up,” His arm was nearby so I smacked it. “I was sheltered.”

“evidently,” his laugh was still going.

“Well,” I sighed. “That’s my reply.”

“Not exactly what I intended,” he teased.

“Then what did you mean?”

“More than a blunt for starters?” he had stopped, but the laughter resumed. “even smoking weed regularly? Or maybe something a little harder?”

I shook my head fervently. There was no way I’d ever do anything other than the blunt I’d smoked and even that was uncertain. I’d sworn that I’d never touch anything again, but if it’d anesthetize me so that survival was easier- I just might.

“Like I said,” he nodded, “not your cup of tea.”

“So, what? Drugs are the only answer?” I huffed, getting angry at the discussion and frustrated that I didn’t have a resolution. “I can live in this hell or the one created by dependence?”

“You mean like that one?” he pointed at the glass in my hand.

“It’s not the same,” sitting the glass down, I crossed my arms. “I don’t have to drink.”

“I know,” his eyes rolled as his voice dripped with sarcasm. “You can stop anytime you want to.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Drugs hold you hostage.”

“Only if you let them Avery,” he shrugged. “But I told you that it’s not your cup of tea. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“So you can’t help?” the defeat weighed heavy in my heart. “There’s nothing,” my body wilting, I reached for the glass once more.

“There’s no magical cure Avery,” he watched with concern in his eyes and I turned my head, avoiding his pity. “But hurting ends,” he threw in.

“Fine,” I turned to walk back to the bar. “You can’t do it. That’s cool.”

I wasn’t really annoyed at him, but I was. He’d gotten my hopes up. He’d let me think that he could do something for me. For a short second I’d had optimism that the ache would end. More than anything he was trying to get me to open up. And I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. It’d be the death of me.

“Why do you want to be numb?” I heard the question and wasn’t sure whether to ignore or answer.

I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Colby had shown me that nobody really understood. Especially when they found out it’d happened before.

“Because feeling is overrated,” I answered with vagueness.

“What do you not want to feel?” Luke continued, walking up behind me.

“I don’t want to feel anything,” I turned and stared at him. “Not a damn thing. Happy, sad or anywhere in between. I don’t want to feel a fucking thing.”

My answer was vague, but as candid and authentic as I could get. In those moments, staring at Luke and aching for Spencer, I was as raw as I could be.

I needed him in my life and not having him was going to destroy me. But it was more than that. I wanted to remove it. All of it. I wanted every memory to be wiped out of my head. Even the good ones. And that was a first.

I didn’t want to remember what it felt like to lie in his arms. To see his eyes so full of love, watching me as I sat by him and making me believe I were perfect. The electrical energy I felt when our hands touched. The way he would finish my sentences. The nights he brought something home because he just ‘knew’ that I had wanted it. The way he’d taken care of me. How intensely he’d loved me. The happiness that came from just being near him.

I didn’t want to remember any of it. As excellent as it was, I wanted it to go away. Not because I regretted those moments. Quite the opposite, actually. Instead it was because if I could shut my eyes and experience the good, the horrific would be that much heavier. The loss that much deeper. The ability to keep going that much harder.

“Who broke your spirit Avery?” the question stopped my thoughts and froze me in my tracks. “Who damaged you this badly?”

He had seen it. Luke had seen what even Colby couldn’t. It wasn’t rebelling or feeling sorry for myself. I was damaged. Broken. Destroyed.

For the first time there was someone standing by me that could see and comprehend. I wasn’t sure why, but Luke seemed to be concerned. There was no doubt that he’d pay attention and offer guidance and a shoulder to cry on. Something I so badly needed to combat the utter solitude and misery I was trapped in.

I turned and watched his eyes flash with understanding and I longed to tell him what I was feeling and thinking. Instead my eyes dropped and I shook my head.