Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(56)

“Holy-guacamole, batman. That man is packing,” Lump said, looking at Adam’s taught back with big eyes. “He’s as big as yours.”

“Not the time, Lump,” Flem tempered. “Or the man. I totally called dibs on that, and Jess firmly has the other one.”

“Oh yeah. But that other guy, Moose, is taken. And too nice for me. Him and his girlfriend will never work, though. Mark my words. But that guy, there. Whoooeee, I bet he’s sassy in bed. I like to get my hair pulled.”

“Seriously,” Flem said, putting her hand on Lump’s shoulder to emphasize her point, “I called him.”

“Girls,” I placated, noticing William gesturing angrily with a glance back at me, “we are in the middle of a crowd, with disco lights and loud music, with my boyfriend ready to kick some ass, and all you can talk about is Adam?”

“Shut up, hooker,” Flem waved her hand in the air, leaning on Lump, who leaned back. They looked like an A-frame. “You have a hot boyfriend. I want one, too. I called Adam. The power of dibs is absolute.”

“Yeah, but,” Lump said, “that power doesn’t follow you out of the general area.”

“But once I get him, he’s off-limits.”

“But you have to get him.”

“Working on it.”

“Girls!” I shouted. “No one is getting anyone if they all go to jail!”

They both turned and looked at me with bleary eyes. We were all so f**ked. No more open bars! We weren’t adult enough to handle them.

Just then a bouncer finally showed up! It was the guy that helped us down the stairs. My favorite. He was asking what was happening.

Candace stepped up and told him that they swarmed her and pulled her top down. Thank goodness Lump stepped in to help her, she said. Lump got them away from her, but apparently got slapped or punched or pushed or some damn thing in the process.

A wall of man turned as one, eyes finding Lump as she leaned against, and was held up by, Flem. Adam stepped closer, their dispute forgotten, and gently tilted her face toward him. Her eyes had been mostly closed, using her lean-to structure with Flem as a means to get a little shut eye, but when she felt hands on her her eyes snapped open and arms went flying. Before anyone knew what was happening, Adam had his arm roughly yanked away and turned around behind his back.

That was about when he realized what was happening and put on the breaks—the breaks being his muscles.

Based on the fact that Lump was so wasted she lost track of what was going on, when the touch was gone, so was her worry. She let go of Adam and went back to leaning on Flem.

Hand on his shoulder, Adam had a shocked, and somewhat shaken, look on his face. It didn’t deter him, though. He leaned close again, careful not to touch, and then pointed out to William a quickly bruising cheek.

“Shit—she must be langers if someone got a hit off,” Claire noticed behind me.

The look of rage that crossed Adam’s face was damn scary. He didn’t like when a woman got hurt. Which was an understatement. I should know.

Losing track of the drama, I let my mind wander. “I don’t feel that drunk.”

I was lightly jostled, realizing William had backed up until he was right in front of me. Playing hero, no doubt. It wasn't my problem at the minute. Keeping on my feet was.

“Really?” Flem asked with nearly crossed eyes.

“Well, not as drunk as her,” I amended as I threw a thumb Lump’s way.

“That’s because we are all the same drunk, so you feel sober,” Claire helped.

The logic was good on that one. Which meant, we were all going to hate our lives tomorrow.

Directly after that thought, William grabbed me, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder. My dress went flying. I was bounced and jostled, then set down in a seat, at an empty table, a million feet from the dance floor.

“Stay here!” William shouted in my face. He looked mad.

I hope he’s not mad at me!

Lump was set down next to me a second later, trailed by a stumbling Flem.

“I was just carried by your boyfriend,” Lump said with a hazy smile. “Fuck Jess, I am totally wasted. What did you put in those drinks?”

“Alcohol. You got hit in the face, did you know?”

“No, did I? Shit. Did I hit him back?”

“I have no idea.”

“Think so,” Flem mumbled, aiming her butt for the seat next to us, missing mostly, catching the edge then falling in a heap to the ground.

We wheezed out a laugh.

Instead of trying again, Flem continued to lay where she fell. She said, “You got him. Or one of ‘em. Bloody lip.”

“That all?” Lump asked, putting her head on the table.

“I couldn’t focus for any longer than that. I pro’ly need some water. Fuck! Open bars are a bad‘dea. Did I not tell you? Did I not say we needed p’ram’ters?”

“You are always right Flem, yes. Let’s go home,” I said.

I got up with one thing in mind: home. Need to go home. Drunk. Need bed.

It was then that I noticed a giant boxing match on the dance floor. Fists were swinging, bodies wrestling. Through my addled brain, I saw William in the thick of it, holding onto some guys hair and throwing punches.

“William’s fighting. S’not good,” I said to no one in particular.