The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) (31 page)

I've attempted to have several chats with her about James, trying to get her to open her obstinate eyes and see that he showed that he is truly a nice, respectable guy when he didn't have sex with her that night. Let's just say theses attempts at conversations about James did not end well. His nickname of Dr. Limp Dick is still going strong, and she's still continuing to be a total and complete cunt whenever he tries to talk to her. I was honestly feeling bad for the guy, but now seeing the way he handles himself around her, I can see that Amy has for sure met her match with him.

“I'm going to head up to the bar. Anyone need anything?” James asks before standing up from his barstool.

Lizzy and I both thank him for the offer but politely decline. Amy, well…

“Nope, and no one fucking cares where you're going.”

Remind me to never piss Amy off. Ever.

James just smirks at her cuntiness and walks towards her barstool, standing close to her. Amy takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. He softly brushes her hair behind her ear, leaning down slowly and whispering loud enough for Lizzy and me to hear. “You look beautiful tonight.”

And with that, he turns around and walks away, leaving a
very
shocked and speechless Amy.

“What an asshole,” Amy spits out once she regains her equilibrium.

Lizzy and I both look at her with questioning expressions.

“Right? He's such an asshole!” Amy glances back and forth between us, trying to get us to agree with her absurd comment about James. Because seriously, she's completely off her rocker. She can be so stubborn sometimes, especially when it comes to her ego. And let's face it, James gave her vagina's ego a hard blow, and unfortunately for him, Amy's vagina apparently holds grudges. Big. Time.

“I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole. That shit is between you and him. I'm staying out of it.” I raise my hands in the air, showing my refusal to give her my opinion on the entire situation.

“Elle! Seriously? You're not going to agree with me that he's a total asshole?”

I vehemently shake my head no.

“Lizzy? What about you? I know you have to agree with me!”

“I'm also staying out of this one, Amy.”

“All three of you are assholes!” Amy screams in frustration.

I give Amy a minute to reel in her anger before testing the waters a little. I know my best friend, and I decide to throw a little comment out there just to see if James has managed to loosen her guard at all.

“Did he really tell you that you looked beautiful tonight?” I take a sip of my beer and watch Amy like a hawk, waiting for her reaction.

She's looking down at her beer, slowly peeling off the label from her bottle. For a split second, her eyes light up a little and the corners of her lips threaten to turn up into a smile. I start to grin in response, and then she looks up, locks eyes with me, and replaces that happy look with a death glare. “Fuck him and his limp dick.”

Damn, he really is good.
Somehow, James has actually managed to get Amy to let a little bit of her guard down.
My money says that James has his work cut out for him when it comes to winning over Amy's affections, but the man has for sure managed to put a few small cracks in her iron-clad wall of grudge-holding and never-ending stubbornness.

After a few more displays of drunken hilarity on the karaoke stage, I notice Amy look down at her phone. She glances up at me and a huge grin spreads across her face. Her fingers are quickly typing out a text message, and once she hits send, she rests back in her seat, takes a swig of her beer, and seems to have a smug look about her.

"What's going on over there, dickhead?" My eyebrow is quirked at her.

"Nothing you need to be concerned about, sweet cheeks." Her eyes are amused, and I get the feeling that she's hiding something from me. I know Amy almost better than I know myself, and believe me, I know when this chick is trying to keep something from me.

"You didn't start another online Twitter relationship with a fictional character, did you?" My fingers are peeling the label off of my beer bottle as I slyly glance up at Amy.

She slams her beer bottle on the table, foam dripping from the top. "Shut up, asshole! First of all, I thought we agreed to
never
talk about that little mishap again, and secondly, NO, I have not. I learned my fucking lesson the first time."

Lizzy is looking at Amy with curiosity on her face. "Online Twitter relationship with a fictional character? I need details. I really, really need details."

"Well—" I start to say before Amy curtly cuts me off by slapping her hand over my mouth.

"We agreed. End of discussion. You talk about it, and I swear I will shove this beer bottle straight up your ass," she says with far too much attitude while giving me a pointed stare.

Lizzy and I start laughing at Amy's very serious demeanor. She's now glowering at us, completely pissed off that I even brought it up, but I couldn't help myself. That has got to be one of the funniest situations I've ever seen my best friend a part of. Yes, Amy fell in love with a fictional book character on Twitter and proceeded to have a two-month love affair through tweets, direct messages, and emails. The book character was a guy named Grant Evans. The book is
Love & Forgiveness
by E.M. Marks. Fantastic book, by the way. I wish I could let you in on this little story, but Amy would quite literally cut off my right labia if I spilled the beans.

Well, I guess a few more details wouldn't hurt anyone…

Amy and her online fictional book boyfriend were going strong and quite possible in some sort of fictional relationship on Twitter.
They were an item.
She was incessantly messaging, emailing, and sending him tweets throughout her day, until her fictional book boyfriend's mother sent her a nasty email…

Come to find out, Amy's love interest was actually a sixteen-year-old boy who started a Twitter account for a book character he knew about from reading one of his mother's smutty romance novels. Yes, the entire ordeal was quite traumatic for my dear friend, Amy, but unquestionably one of the funniest things I've ever heard. In her defense, the kid knew his book character, and I'm pretty sure he had that romance novel memorized.

I can't avoid the fact that Amy is
still
glowering at me. I choose to raise my hands in the air, indicating that I'm throwing the white flag and I'll keep my mouth shut on this topic. Amy turns back towards the bar to let Johnny know we could use a few more beers at our table. I make eye contact with Lizzy and mouth, "I'll tell you later." She quickly smiles and winks at me before Amy is facing us again. Amy glances back and forth between my sister and me, making sure we've really stopped talking about her ex-fictional book boyfriend. She didn't seem to notice our little exchange, and for that I'm extremely thankful. I think she would have honestly attempted the whole beer-bottle-up-the-ass maneuver.

Johnny drops a few beers off at the table, and his dimples are standing out from the giant smile on his face. "You guys are going to love this next…
singer
." He looks directly at me. I'm a little creeped out right now. Johnny isn't one to dish the smiles around, and when he's flashing his dimples, something is going on. The last time he flashed those cute little dimples at me, I had to stand on top of the bar while he serenaded me with
She's a Jolly Good Fellow
. It wasn't my birthday. I'm obviously not a fellow, and Johnny loved every second of embarrassing me in front of the entire bar.

"Stop being so weird, Johnny. You're creeping Ellie out," Amy quickly says before flicking her wrist, indicating for him to leave our table. She's such a bitch sometimes, but right now, I'm more than appreciative.

"What's going on? He's not going to make me stand on top of the bar while he sings again, is he?"

"I don't have a clue, but I got your back, girlfriend. No way in hell will I let him pull a stunt like that again."

I start to say something to Amy but stop when I hear the first beats of one of my favorite Ray LaMontagne songs start to play over the bar speakers. I'm a little pissed off at the asshole that is going to attempt this song; I mean, who in the hell thinks they can even come close to Ray
LaMontagne? I've decided that if they really screw this up, I have no qualms with heckling them on stage. I'm not afraid to be the cunt in the crowd. Ray LaMontagne is my man. He's the best, and when you try to mess up the best, well, you have some hell to pay. I look over at Amy and Lizzy and they are both grinning like Cheshire Cats, staring at me. I give them a "what the fuck” look before hearing a very familiar voice start to sing the first lyrics.

My eyes quickly dart up toward the stage, but no one is standing up there.

The husky voice continues the song, and I know exactly who is singing. I'm in shock and I think my heart may have stopped beating for a moment before quickly speeding back up and nearly pounding out of my chest.

I look back at Amy and Lizzy; they are both knowingly watching me, letting me know that they were in on this.

And then I see him. Trent.

His bright blue eyes are beaming as he belts out the lyrics to my favorite song. He is now standing on the makeshift karaoke stage, front and center.

His eyes are on me. He's watching for my reaction, and all I can do right now is gawk at him. My jaw is basically sitting on the table. I can't believe he's doing this. He's singing this song, of all songs, to me. The song he knows is my favorite, the song he's heard me gush about. The song I've told him is the most perfect, most romantic song. Tears are filling my eyes as realization hits me. This isn't goodbye. Trent is forcing me to hear what he has to say, what I've been avoiding for fear that he would reject me. He's not rejecting me; this is his way of screaming through a megaphone and making me hear how he really feels.

He's a terrible singer by the way, completely ruining the song. He's missing verses and his voice cracks as he attempts to hit notes that only Ray LaMontagne could make sound good, but I don't care. This is the biggest, most romantic gesture anyone has ever done for me. This is
Jerry Maguire
on steroids. This is un-fucking-believable. This man deserves a thousand blow jobs for this.

I feel Amy wipe a few of the tears off of my cheeks, but I can't even take my eyes away from Trent's to look at her. He's got me riveted. His horrible, terrible, off-key singing has me so hooked that I can't even notice anyone else in the bar.

Baby

We've come a long way

And baby

You know I hope and I pray

That you believe me

When I say this love will never fade

Trent finishes the song and I'm still sitting on my barstool, gaping at him. Shocked. Surprised. Elated. I'm more in love with him in this moment than I have ever been with anyone in my entire life.
I love Trent Hamilton
.

My thoughts are interrupted by the hoots and hollers from the bar, then Trent clearing his throat loudly. Oh god, first he serenades me and now he's got a speech?

He raises his hand, smiles at the crowd. "Thank you. My album will drop next month." He nervously laughs with the bar before locking his eyes on me. "Ellie, is this loud enough for you?" He smirks at me and continues talking into the microphone. "I know I said megaphone, but Johnny wouldn't let me, said it would clear out the bar."

Johnny yells from behind the bar, "Even with just the mic you almost accomplished that, dude!"

Trent laughs and gives Johnny the middle finger. "Anyway, where was I before that rude bartender interrupted me?" He grins at Johnny and then sets his sights on me again.

I'm still in astonishment and even feel Amy give me a quick nudge to make sure I'm still with her. I just nod my head yes and intently watch Trent, waiting for what he's going to say.

"Ellie, I don't want to be your knight in shining armor, your prince on the white horse. You don't need saving, baby. You're the strongest woman I know. The last few weeks have been rough—
really rough
—but together we're going to get through it. You're everything I could have ever hoped for, and just knowing you has made me a better man. I'm in awe of you, Ellie. Your beauty, your grace, your feistiness, your adorable charm, and your kind heart. Your outspoken personality and spitfire attitude that constantly keep me on my toes, mostly for fear of what you'd do to my balls if I pissed you off." His eyes beam with amusement and I'm internally giggling. "I know you have your doubts, I know you're scared, baby, but I'm still going to ask you,
beg
you. Be with me. Love me. Let me stand by your side and experience this crazy life together. I want you, Ellie girl. I want all of you. I want every piece of the incredible jigsaw puzzle that makes you the amazing woman that sits before me. I can tell by the look on your face right now that you're a little shocked, a whole lot surprised, but I just needed you to hear me out. I needed you to hear that you are it for me. No hesitations, no doubts, no second thoughts. I'm staying in Charlotte because I love you. I love you so much that I can hardly breathe—"

"Stop! Stop!" I abruptly jump up off of my barstool, knocking my beer bottle over, liquid spilling down the edges of the table. Keeping my gaze locked on Trent's, I walk towards the stage. He's so beautifully nervous right now and probably scared to hear what I'm going to say, yet he still gives me a small smile as he watches me move through the bar. This man has me. Owns me. I'm his and there's no doubt in my mind that this little thing between us has turned into so much more than I could have ever imagined. I know in my soul that this is forever. I hate sounding like a total douchebag sap, but I can't help it. I'm blaming it on the Hamiltonian Effect.

I take a step up onto the stage and stand in front of Trent, looking up at him, drinking in this instant in time. This moment I will most likely remember for the rest of my life. I sense the bar has gone quiet, intently waiting for me to say something, but I honestly have forgotten about them. They don't exist right now. Right now, it's just Trent and Elle. I'm wrapped up in his blue, piercing eyes.