Page 5 of A Totally Platonic Thing
A second later a blast of cool air smacked me in the face as he shoved the exit door open at the back of the club, saying something about how it was just him getting Chris out to the parking lot.
“I know, I’m right here,” I told him.
“Wasn’t talking to you. I was on my headset. Oh, thank fuck, there’s Lucas.”
I twisted around to try to glare up at him, because he sounded really relieved and that was super offensive, because did he like Lucas better than me? Or he didn’t want to hang out, he wanted to hand me off to Lucas? I’d introduced them, after all! At least, I’d introduced Lucas to Sebastian after we’d moved in together, and then Sebastian had gotten together with Aidan, and we’d all hung out a lot since then.
So I’d introduced them by proxy. Lucas wasmyroommate, my…Lucas.
Oh, shit, Lucas was here, and he was going to be so, so pissed off.
I heard a car door slam and twisted again, the parking lot lights streamering into orange glary things that hurt my eyes. My feet went two different ways, but Aidan’s arm clamped around my chest and pinned me to his side.
“I’m not making a move,” I told the tall, blond thing approaching me. Lucas. I blinked. “He’s helping me. I’m not groping him.”
I heard what sounded like a sigh from all around me.
Nope, not all around me. Just both of them in unison. Lucas got a hold of my arms and Aidan let go, allowing me to flop into my roommate’s chest instead.
“Sorry, man,” Aidan said from behind me. I didn’t bother moving. Lucas smelled like home. Probably because we used the same laundry detergent. Also, he wasn’t quite as big and solid as Aidan, who could’ve been a brick wall’s stunt double, but he’d filled out a lot in the past year and wasn’t so skinny anymore.
Big enough to lean on, anyway, especially since he was like, five inches taller than me. Maybe a little more. Like, half a foot and an extra inch or something. I wasn’t short, seriously, he was just really tall. My face fit perfectly in the crook of his neck.
He sighed again, and this time I felt it.
“No worries,” Lucas said, his voice rumbling through me soothingly. “I’m glad you called me instead of letting him wander off on his own.”
“I would’ve stuck him in the back somewhere and brought him home myself after we closed, but he’d have been locked up in the stockroom until like three AM, and honestly my boss told me not to do that again. Apparently twice was his limit.” Lucas shifted and put his other arm around my back, and then his shoulder jostled. I made a little mumble of complaint. They were seriously bro-shaking behind my back? Rude. I felt kind of sick. Lucas needed to not move around. “There’s his credit card. Anyway, good luck, I gotta get back inside. Are we going to see you two on Monday night?”
Movie night. I mumbled something else into Lucas’s neck that I tried to make a complaint about Sebastian and Aidan’s sci-fi obsession, an obsession Lucas encouraged, the traitor, but it came out maybe a little garbled.
“Did he just say something about Stargate?” Aidan asked from behind me, sounding way too annoyed over a TV show. I couldn’t help giggling, rubbing my nose against Lucas’s neck to make him squirm too. He let out an annoyed-sounding huff, but his arm tightened around me and pulled me closer.
“Yeah. Ignore it. Stargate’s awesome. Thanks, man. See you Monday.”
Footsteps receded, and then the door thumped shut.
The parking lot was way too quiet compared to how loud it’d been inside, where I’d been for hours, and my ears rang a little. Some drunk girl started yelling somewhere, shrill and piercing. Something about wanting to hit another club before last call.
Actually, that sounded like a good idea.
“Wanna get a drink?” I asked, lifting my head a little. Well, rolling it onto Lucas’s shoulder.
Lucas stared down at me, dark eyes serious through the reflections on his glasses. He didn’t look happy. He’d be happier if he had a drink with me, right?
“You work too much, let’s get a drink.” I reached up, trying to playfully pinch his cheek, and managed to whap him in the side of the head. “Oops. Drink?”
“Yeah, no,” Lucas said, sounding way, way too damn grumpy. “We’re going home.”
“No, come on!” I pulled away, grabbing hold of the front of his t-shirt and yanking on him. He stumbled a step and grabbed onto my wrist, hard. “Ow!”
“Knock it the fuck off, Chris,” he snapped. “It’s one in the morning, I’d just gotten in bed after working all night, I have to be in the lab in like six hours, can you get in the car, please? Jesus!”
Oh, God, I couldn’t stand it when Lucas wasn’t happy with me, and I stopped like someone had hit me with a freeze ray, or I tried to—but my feet kept moving, and I tripped on one of them, or one of them tripped over the other, or something, and I went flailing toward the ground, asphalt and bits of trash getting all big in my vision…Lucas lunged and caught me around the middle, right in the sternum.
And I puked up about a gallon of vodka tonic, splashing it on the ground and spattering our shoes, my eyes watering, the smell making me retch all over again. Oh, God, vodka smelled just like vodka coming out again, only so much worse. Why hadn’t I gotten the top shelf brand instead of the generic paint thinner crap? Oh, yeah, because I was broke. I threw up again, Lucas’s arm still wrapped around my middle, not exactly helping the whole nausea thing but at least keeping me from face-planting into my own vomit.
At last he shifted his grip, getting his arm more around my chest. I leaned into it, panting and wheezing, my eyes streaming and my whole body shuddering. I drew a few deep breaths of chilly late-night fog and blinked to clear my vision.
