Home > While I Was Away(13)

While I Was Away(13)
Author: Stylo Fantome

Adele looked down at her feet as the liquid started pooling around her, and as soon as it hit the hem of her dress, the color was absorbed. Pink slashed its way up the the gray satin, taking it over, and when she held out her arms, she watched as even her gloves transformed to a happy shade of bubblegum.

“I just can't get over this – pink is my favorite color! What is going -”

Adele stopped when she looked to her right. Jones wasn't there. She turned in a circle, but he wasn't anywhere nearby, either. Frowning, she pushed her way through a crowd that was getting pinker by the moment. She peeked around fans and even lifted a few masks, but all she found were blurs. Jones wasn't there. He'd disappeared.

While vanishing was something Adele did regularly and often, she'd never seen Jones do it. He would appear out of nowhere, but he never disappeared. He was always close by, always.

Except for now.

Now, he felt very, very far away, indeed.

11

Maybe if I close my eyes right now ... I'll go into a coma, too ... then I can see Adele again.

Ocean Reins closed his eyes, but he didn't feel like he was slipping into unconsciousness.

No, all he felt was dizzy and a little like puking.

“Alright,” August's voice sighed from next to him. “Let's get him up.”

“Do we have to?” That was River chiming in. “He's probably fine.”

“Are you kidding? He's fucking hammered. Let's move him into the bedroom.”

“I'm not hammered,” he grumbled, lifting his head and opening his eyes. “I'm ... drunk. Yes. Okay. But definitely not hammered.”

His brothers laughed, then helped him climb to his feet before guiding him towards his bedroom.

It was River's birthday. Normally when one of the brothers celebrated a birthday, it was a raucous occasion. The festivities were always filled with debasement and debauchery, dive bars and night clubs. Sometimes there were even strip clubs, and always lots of alcohol.

This year had been different, though; there didn't seem like much worth celebrating. So they'd decided on a small gathering at the Reins' vacation rental. The party had been comprised of family, Charlie and Zoey, and a couple of River's new coworkers, and that had been it. Their dad had barbecued in the backyard, and for a brief moment in the afternoon, it had almost felt like the family barbecues they'd had back home.

But then Ocean had looked around for Adele's smiling face, and reality had come crashing in. They had a huge gaping hole in their family, and until it was filled, no birthday – no event, period – would ever feel the same again.

And that's when he'd started drinking.

He allowed his younger brothers to drag him to his room and drop him into bed, but he really wasn't quite as drunk as everyone thought. He was depressed, and the alcohol was giving him the perfect excuse to wallow in it for once.

And wallow he did, draping an arm across his face while he fought off the urge to cry. He wouldn't cry. He would not. If he was going to shed tears, then Adele damn well better be around so she could feel bad for causing them.

Sounds fair.

Ocean wasn't sure how much time had passed when he heard his bedroom door creak open. He didn't move, hoping whoever it was would assume he was asleep. Then he heard the door swing partially shut, after which light footsteps made their way towards him.

“Go away,” he groaned.

“Pity party, huh. I'm surprised. I'd expect something like this from River, maybe even August, but not you, Detective Reins.”

Ocean lifted his arm away from his face, staring in shock at Zoey Blanke. Light from the hallway spilled through the cracked open door, and it was just enough to illuminate her profile. She wasn't facing him, but was instead examining some sort of picture on the wall.

“Not right now, Blanke. I'm not in a good mood,” he warned her. She snorted and took a sip from the drink she was holding

“Just wait till tomorrow – you put away almost a fifth of schnapps, your hangover is going to be spectacular.”

“Did you need something?” he snapped. She shrugged, then stunned him by sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I'm heading out, I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh. Thank you. Goodbye.”

“You're not the only one who misses her.”

“Excuse me?”

The sudden one-eighty in the conversation almost gave him whiplash. Good ol' Zoey, keepin' him on his toes. He wanted to tell her to fuck off, but the angry glint in her eye made him hold his tongue.

“This tough-yet-hurt routine is getting real fucking old, Ocean,” she continued as she put her cup down. “Yeah, it sucks that Adele was in an accident. It sucks even more that she's in a coma. Do you know how many times a day I go to text her, then have to remind myself that she can't respond?”

Ocean stared at Zoey for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Then his anger cleared some of the alcohol out of his brain and he pulled himself upright.

“I'm sorry, are you comparing your relationship with Adele – which is only, what, five years old, maybe? – to mine, which is only ... oh, say ... since her birth. She's my sister, which trumps your 'best friend status', so fuck off,” he growled.

“Oh, what, did I offend you, precious?” she sneered.

“You think you can just fucking walk around and talk to people however you want!” he snapped. “Well, sugar, I'm not one of these pushover guys you're probably used to – keep giving me shit, sweetheart, and I'll give it right back to you.”

“You sound mad,” she commented, one of her eyebrows condescendingly arched.

“Yeah, I'm fucking mad!”

“Really mad?”

“Really goddamn mad!”

“Good.”

That took the wind out of his sails a little. He opened his mouth to snap back, then froze for a second, struggling to shift gears.

“Um ... what?”

“I said 'good',” Zoey clarified. “That means you're not feeling sorry for yourself anymore.”

Well.

Ocean glared at her for a second longer, then finally broke down and chuckled.

“Okay, good one, thanks,” he sighed.

“I'm also available for motivational speeches,” she offered, and he laughed even harder.

“You came in here just to bust my balls and take my mind off things?” he asked, scratching his fingers through his hair. She shrugged and reached for her cup.

“The only cute guy in the room had left to pout. It was either follow him, or leave. I took a chance.”

Ocean laughed in earnest then. Cute? How ridiculous. Sure, he knew he was a decent looking guy, but cute? He hadn't been called cute since he was ten, and had certainly never imagined Zoey Blanke thought of him that way.

His laughter died away while he watched her chug the rest of her drink. Did she really think that? Did he care? And what did he think of her? Sure, she was cute, too, he supposed. He let his gaze skate over her form, taking in her tone body and petite build. Her stylish outfit and trendy vibe. Her pert breasts and fantastic legs. How old was Zoey? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? Jesus, he was at least ten years older than her.

I'm drunk and she's way more than cute and this is a bad place and these are bad thoughts and I'm definitely too drunk for this.

Which was why he was probably more shocked than Zoey when he leaned forward and kissed her a second later.

More shocking still, though, was her kissing him back. She dropped her cup to the floor and pressed herself against him without any hesitation.

Ocean had to admit, it was strange at first. He'd known Zoey for a long time and had never once thought of her in a sexual manner. Yet now her hands were all over his body, her breasts were pressing against his chest, and her tongue was doing a very thorough examination of the back of his throat.

When was the last time you kissed someone like this?

And then it didn't seem so strange anymore. It seemed ... exhilarating. Hot. He speared his hands into her curly hair and took control of the kiss. She groaned and moved so she was straddling him, her knees on either sides of his hips.

He took advantage of the situation and shifted his arms to her waist, wrapping them tightly around her. Once she was as close to him as she could possibly get, he worked his hands under the back of her shirt.

He didn't care that everything was fucked up, or that he was drunk and lonely and depressed. He also didn't care that Zoey possibly had even more issues of her own. For the first time since he'd gotten the call about Adele's accident, Ocean felt good. Good about life, and really good about the woman sitting on top of him.

And he was excited to find out just how “good” things could get between them, but then it all came crashing down.

“Hey, Ocean,” Charlie's voice called from outside the door right before he pushed it open. “Your mom wanted me to check on you and bring you some wa–, holy shit, is that Zoey!?”

Whoops.

Ocean completely froze with one hand up the back of her top, and the other hand down the back of her skirt. Hmmm, when had that happened?

She, however, didn't seem bothered at all. He was beginning to wonder if anything rattled Zoey fucking Blanke. She kept her arms around his neck and settled down on his lap, making him uncomfortably aware of just how little clothing separated them.

“It is Zoey,” she sighed. “Thanks for the water, Chuck.”

“Charlie,” he corrected her, then he dashed into the room and sat a large tumbler on the nightstand. “And no offense to either of you, but do you really think this is the right time for this?”

Ocean was ready to agree and apologize, but Zoey cut him off by barking out a laugh.

“Are you shitting me?” she guffawed. “You're gonna lecture me on what is and isn't appropriate behavior?”

It was very dim in the room, but Ocean was still able to see Charlie's blush.

“Just shut up, Blanke,” he growled, then he stomped away, slamming the door shut behind him.

   
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