Forbidden Lyrics Page 11

  “If you’re not pregnant, take one and pass it around.” Adrienne glares at Quinn, who thinks she’s hilarious.

  How is it I’m the youngest member of this group and have never been here? Theoretically, I should be the partier, the carefree, no frills member and yet, I’ve never even heard of this place. The Outside. The name alone sounds amazing. It’s the perfect place to blend into the crowd and dance your cares away.

  There’s a shot glass sitting on the table, drawing everyone’s attention before turning to the one person who didn’t grab it.

  “Tay?” I ask, trying not to get my hopes up. I want my brother to have a kid. Purely for selfish reasons. I’m in no position of getting married, let alone pregnant, but I want a baby to squish and love on in the worst way. It’s pretty much why I opted to work in peds.

  A fat tear streaks down her cheek and whatever hopes I told myself not to get, drop to the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, quickly grabbing the glass and downing the liquid before any of us can join her.

  Adrienne places a hand to her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Tatum shakes her head and feverishly wipes at her face. “No, but I will be. Just keep the alcohol coming.”

  Placing my elbows on the table, I lean close to the only sister I’ve ever known. “It’s okay. You’ll get pregnant.” I didn’t even know they were trying. Nine years ago, it was all they talked about. Now the thought puts Myles into a panic.

  She waves a hand in front of her face. “Ignore me. I’m just hormonal. And jealous. And frustrated with my stupid body.” She looks between the three of us and forces a smile. “I’m fine, really. The last couple weeks have been hard for me.” Turning to Adrienne, she grabs her hands to give them a squeeze. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m beyond happy for you and Kade. Your little baby will be amazing. It’s just…between the five of us, I always thought we’d get pregnant first,” she says, pointing at her chest.

  “It’ll happen.” Quinn tries her best to console her, but Tatum wants nothing to do with it.

  “I took a test last week because my boobs were bigger and every little thing set me off.” We wait on baited breath for her to continue. “Obviously it was negative. I mean, I only have a fifty percent chance of conceiving.”

  “How long have you been trying?” I ask. Not because I really want to think about the act of them trying, but because Tatum is my sister and I want to ease her mind.

  She sniffs. “Only a couple months. Myles has been putting on this big show, saying he doesn’t really want kids. But it’s killing him almost as much as me. I feel so useless, and broken, and not deserving. I mean, there are teenagers who get pregnant and don’t want their babies. Then there’s me, a thirty-year-old married woman who desperately wants one and can’t get pregnant.” Another rogue tear falls to the table.

  “Okay, let’s back everything up. You’ve only been trying a couple of months. Give it time. Putting too much stress on yourself isn’t good, especially since you’re already gearing up for an uphill battle.” I try my best to calm her fears.

  “Yeah, you just need to relax, take some time to de-stress your life and get back to center,” Adrienne adds.

  “And, if neither of those work, I have a solution. Do you know how many stories we hear about kids being conceived by a bottle of wine?” Quinn laughs. “Hell, I’ll go buy you a case right now and maybe you’ll have quints or something like that.”

  “Do you really want five little Myles running around the world?” Tatum flashes a genuine smile.

  Quinn twists her lips to the side. “True. Very true. Okay, fine. One bottle for you. And that’s all. It’s bad enough there’s going to be a little Kade running around.”

  “Hey!” Adrienne tosses a wadded up napkin at her head. “My baby is going to be perfect.”

  “Yes, it will be.” Apparently, Quinn is still upset that Adrienne doesn’t know what she’s having.

  “Thanks, girls. I really needed to hear that. And I promise. No more tears from me tonight.”

  “Okay, enough with all the baby talk. Everyone wanting to procreate is giving me the heebie geebies.” Quinn visibly shakes in her chair. “Tonight is about good times, bad dancing, and proving to the guys that we can have fun without them.”

  “Here, here!” We clink our glasses together—except for Tatum since she already slammed hers.

  Ugh. Gross. It doesn’t matter how many times I drink it, I will never like tequila.

  “Why’d you get this crap?” I yell over the noise of the music.

  “Because it’ll fuck you up faster.” No shit.

  Quinn raises her hand to flag down one of the cocktail waitresses passing by. “Three more shots of tequila, please. And a Pink Cadillac Margarita with Patron and Cointreau.”

  “And for you ladies?” She’s cute, young. Definitely a college student. But I love her outfit. Fishnet stockings, short black satin shorts, and a silver racerback tank top. Nothing I’d ever wear, but it looks amazing on her. It makes her eyes appear icy blue.

  “Water for me, please.” Adrienne rubs her belly with a smile.

  “Malibu Bay Breeze,” says Tatum.

  “Sunset Screwdriver.” I can’t stick to tequila, though I’m not sure the vodka will be any better. Either way, I’m probably throwing up later tonight.

  Quinn leans over the table, resting her palms flat on the surface. “Okay, when she gets back, we’re doing the shots then hitting the dance floor.”

  Adrienne looks between us. “You guys go ahead. I’ll sit here and guard the drinks.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Quinn throws her arms in the air. “Your due date is a week away. You can go anytime. We’re gonna dance that baby right out of you.”

  Adrienne’s face pales almost instantly. “Have you seen the sausages I’m using as feet? I can’t dance.”

  “We’ll help you,” Tatum adds with a smile.

  I’m staying out of it. I don’t know her well enough to interfere. And I’m kind of on her side. Being nine months pregnant can’t be comfortable, let alone being forced to dance on top of it.

  “Lizzie, tell her.” Quinn pleads her case to me, but I hold my hands up in defense.

  “Oh, no. I’m not getting into this.” Not the answer she was looking for as I receive her death stare. “Fine, how about this.” I look to Adrienne and give my best sympathetic smile. “When a song comes on that you can’t sit still for, you go out and dance. Otherwise, you can stay and relax. Maybe the vibrations from the bass will be enough to induce labor?”

  “Or the heat. It’s a million degrees in here.” She wipes her brow and fluffs her shirt at the neckline. Personally, I think it’s nice, but then again, I don’t have twice the blood volume running through my body at the moment.

  “Fine,” Quinn acquiesces. “But if they play an awesome song, you’re dancing.”

  “Deal.”

  The waitress arrives with our drinks and my mouth starts to water. Except for the tequila. I’m getting that out of the way so the orange juice can cover that nasty taste.

  We pick up the shot glasses and raise them over the middle of the table. “To girl’s night!” Tatum exclaims.

  Blech. It doesn’t taste any better the second time around. I grab my drink and take a healthy sip from the straw, draining about half of it in the process.

  “Woo! Someone’s ready to party,” Quinn yells.

  “Not quite,” I yell back. “Just had to get the tequila taste out of my mouth.” She rolls her eyes in response.

  Our ears perk up when the song changes. Something I haven’t heard in a very long time. I’d almost forgotten about it had the DJ not decided to play it right now.

  “Okay, ladies. Get your asses on the floor. ‘Cause it’s getting hot in here.” Bless her heart, Quinn tries her best to sing the song, but she really should leave that up to Nelly. It doesn’t stop the three of us from filing onto the dance floor and shaking our asses all over the place.

  Ther
e’s at least a ten-degree difference between the seating area we were in and the shoulder-to-shoulder dance area we migrated to. I strip off a layer, thankful I decided to wear the pink cami underneath my top. So much better.

  After depositing the shirt back at the table, I rejoin the girls on the floor and dance like there’s no tomorrow. Everyone sings along at the chorus as the DJ turns the sound down. I can’t remember the last time I went out dancing. This is what I’ve been missing. Friends to hang out with, get drunk, and make stupid decisions. And with Tatum back for at least another couple months, we should be able to do this more often.

  After a few more songs, we decide it’s time for a drink break. Dancing is a thirsty sport. Adrienne’s still sitting at the table, fully engrossed in her phone but looks up when the chairs around her screech in protest of being moved.

  “Having fun?” she asks.

  I wipe my forehead and take a hefty drink. “So. Much. Fun.” My staccato breaths accentuate my statement, generating a smile from Adrienne.

  “You need to join us on the next song,” Quinn begs. Then she gives her puppy dog eyes.

  Apparently, Adrienne is immune to them. “Nice try. I’m not your husband. I will say the baby does enjoy the beats, though my lungs are taking a beating right now.” She rubs the spot just above her rounded stomach to accentuate her statement.

  “Are you still okay to sit here?” Tatum asks. She grabs the waitress as she walks by and orders another round. Unfortunately, that also includes the shots.

  Note to self: throw up on their shoes later.

  “I’m fine,” she replies. “Actually, this is probably the best I’ve felt in a couple days. I think I just needed to get out of the house for a while. Not to mention away from Kade’s hovering. Every time I have a hiccup, he threatens to call the hospital. I’ve stopped telling him about the Braxton-Hicks contractions because he swears I’m actually in labor.”

  “He’s excited. It’s adorable,” I say, finishing off my drink.

  “It’s annoying as hell. He needs a hobby. Maybe he can help Brecken over at your house?” Her hopeful eyes plead with me. I’m going to have to be the bearer of bad news.

  “Yeah, no. Sorry. Breck is enough help for me.”

  “I bet he is,” Quinn says, wagging her brows.

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah,” Tatum says, leaning closer. “How is the renovation going with Brecken? Has he laid down your carpet yet?” She snickers like a prepubescent teen.

  Lord help me now.

  “Nobody is laying down any carpet at my house.”

  “Ahh, hardwood. I kinda figured you’d be a neat and tidy one.” Quinn chews on her straw, giving me a wink.

  Heat crawls up my neck, warming my cheeks until I’m positive every person in this room knows exactly what we’re talking about.

  Except Adrienne. “Am I missing something?”

  “Only the fact that Brecken is all about Lizzie and she won’t acknowledge it,” Tatum slurs.

  I grab a shot from the middle of the table, downing it quickly so I hopefully won’t taste it. Seems to work this time.

  “Brecken is not all about Lizzie,” I say. “Besides, it’ll never work, so what’s the point?”

  “What do you mean it’ll never work? That boy is hung up on you.” Quinn jabs a finger in front of my face.

  “There’s a story there,” Adrienne says, leaning forward. “I can feel it.”

  Shit. Me and my big mouth. They don’t need to know the reason why I avoid my feelings when it comes to Brecken.

  “There’s no story. It’s just…he’s like my brother or something like that.”

  “No.” Tatum is quick to correct me. “He’s not. Kade is like your brother. Breck has always been different. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way he always stood up for you growing up. Or that he was the first person you ran to when you had trouble.”

  “Well, I couldn’t run to Myles. He was usually the reason behind the trouble.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Quinn takes her shot, sucking on the lime from the edge of her margarita.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “You know, he’s still my brother.”

  “He’s still an ass.”

  “True.” Can’t argue with that. Especially considering he’s the reason why I can’t follow my heart’s desire. “But let’s drop this conversation. There’s nothing going on between me and Brecken.”

  “So it’s all in our heads?” Tatum asks. I nod. “So he wasn’t the one who stayed out with you under the stars at the baby shower?”

  “Or went looking for you when you disappeared into the woods?” Quinn adds.

  “I—”

  “Also, you know we had to keep feeding Myles beer while you two were outside that night so he wouldn’t come looking for you.”

  I blanch. “I never asked you to.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Tatum grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Brecken is smitten with you. Everyone can see it. Except you, apparently.”

  No, I can see it. I’m just avoiding it. There’s no point in getting my hopes up on something that has a limited shelf life. He’ll be gone in a couple months and then things will go back to normal. He’ll be the rock star with the adoring fans, and I’ll be the girl who always wished she was brave enough to take a chance.

  “Just drop it. Please.” I’m begging, and I don’t even care.

  Quinn draws her brows together in confusion. “Why? I don’t get it. You obviously like him and he’s reciprocating this affection. What’s the hold-up?”

  I flag down the waitress and order more shots. If I’m about to dump this story on them, I need liquid encouragement.

  Three sets of eyes wait patiently for me to tell the story. The only problem is I can’t figure out which story they should hear. Should it be the one that paints my brother as an asshole—i.e., the truth? Or do I gloss over most of the story and give the bare details?

  After taking my shot—and Tatum’s—I decide enough is enough.

  “I can’t do anything about my feelings because Myles won’t let me.” Quinn and Tatum both open their mouths in protest, but I hold up a hand first. “Everyone knows Myles is protective of me. I could hardly date in high school because he’d scare them off. No guy would come near me because of him. I had to wait until he was engrossed in the band to actually have a life.”

  “What does this have to do with Brecken?” Adrienne asks, genuinely curious.

  I take a slow, steady breath, blowing out all my worries with it. “Myles told Brecken I was off-limits.”

  “What? When?” Tatum asks.

  I turn and face the only sister I’ve ever known. “The night you left.” She cringes at my words. “I don’t want to hurt you, but that’s when it happened. I picked them up from a bar because they all took Myles out to drown his sorrows. Myles got wasted and Brecken was less than sober and couldn’t drive. There was always something between Brecken and I, or at least I thought there was. That night, things shifted. When we got to my house, Myles jumped out of my car and for the first time in a long time, I was alone with Breck. I’m not even sure how it happened but we kissed.” Silence and curiosity greets me. I take another sip of my drink and straighten up in my chair. “A real kiss. It wasn’t my first kiss, but it was the first one that wasn’t courtesy of an inexperienced high schooler. Finally, after years of crushing on him, Brecken chose me. He saw me not as a little sister, but something more. As we kissed, my mind filled with every idea you can imagine. I had flashes of us being together; of things being different.”

  “So why haven’t you two gotten together?” Quinn asks.

  I grimace. “Because Myles pulled him out of the car and beat the shit out of him. I was ‘off-limits’ and that was that.”

  Quinn’s face turns red. “I swear, your brother is something else.”

  “He was only looking out for me. I was seventeen, after all.”

  “You’re not seventeen now,” Tatum s
ays.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m not. But it doesn’t change the fact that Brecken is still Myles’ best friend and we can’t be together.”

  “Says who? Don’t let that ass of a brother dictate your life anymore. If Breck makes you happy, I say go for it. Life is short and you deserve happiness.” Quinn makes sense. It could be the alcohol, but something clicks into place. Myles doesn’t have the right to dictate my life. But there is the fact that Brecken could get hurt in the process. Physically, that is.

  Silence falls over the table as the outside sounds filter back into my ears. Somehow I’d manage to tune everything out. But Quinn is right. I do deserve some happiness. As long as Myles doesn’t know. Maybe Breck and I can see each other on the down low, keep it quiet and simple, especially since he’s only here for a limited time. Something fun.

  Just then, Montell Jordan’s “This Is How We Do It” blasts through the speakers, halting any conversation we were having.

  “Oh, my God, we have to dance to this.” Quinn grabs Adrienne’s hand and drags her out of the chair. “You said you’d dance to a good song. This is it. Let’s go!”

  All of us know better than to argue with Quinn. When she’s got her heart set on something, it’s gonna happen.

  After several songs, and even more shots and drinks, I’ve officially hit the limit. I can’t feel my teeth and my legs are so wobbly I’m afraid to move from this chair.

  “We should call a cab,” I drunkenly slur. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what I said. Isn’t it?

  Tatum nods. “Bu-but we have the DD with us.” Her finger shakes as she points in Adrienne’s general direction.

  “Oh, no. I’m not driving all your drunk-asses home. I’ve called in reinforcements.” She’s greeted by blank stares. “Your husbands have been texting me nonstop while you three have danced your cares away. They should be here any minute.”

  Husbands? “Wh-what about me? I-I don’t have a-a husband. Or a b-boyfriend for that matter.” Come on, Lizzie. Pull it together. Don’t act like you’re drunk.

  Fucking hiccups.

  Adrienne smirks. “I’ve got you covered.”

  Oh, thank God. She’s giving me a ride home. For a second, I was afraid she’d called—