twenty-four | looking at you looking at me

IN LIGHT OF HER DEVELOPING A HEALTHIER RELATIONSHIP WITH ALCOHOL, ALI HAD RESTRICTED HERSELF TO PREMIXED DRINKS ONLY. Gone were the days where she'd have a bottle of straight Vodka in one hand and her phone in the other, vlogging the train wreck. At least she could enjoy the taste of her drinks now.

The music—much better then what she'd hear at a club—filled the quaint penthouse. More bodies filled the room then Ali had expected. She felt quite out of place, everyone had some sort of connection to the NRL; wives, coaches, players—you name it. Her only connection was being the ex of a player and the plus one of Reece's girlfriend, it was a bit awkward to explain to other party-goers. Her drink of choice—a guava flavoured Vodka Cruiser—had gone hot by the time she went to take more then a sip of it.

Herbie Farnworth, her only friend outside of Mira and Silvi, had practically hunted her down that night—it's like he knew how uncomfortable she was feeling. They sat on the counter of the very white kitchen, catching up.

"It's been a minute since I've seen you around," Herbie remarked, taking a swig of his beer. He'd offered Ali a sip to which she'd screwed her face at—beer was disgusting.

Ali shrugged, staring down at the half empty glass bottle she'd been clinging to all night. "Well, yeah. . . that's how breakups work. . ."

Herbie scoffed at this. "I still don't have a reason as to why you guys ended it."

The blonde didn't look up, racking her brain for a way to change the subject. "I saw that try you scored—the one you moon walked into," she told him, his eyes lighting up at the memory, "arrogant prick."

As the two laughed and playfully shoved each other, she felt eyes flicker in her direct. She didn't have to turn to know who was watching her—he had been all night. And yes, she'll admit, she'd been watching him too. He made it hard not to when he looked like that. He'd let his hair grow out a bit, sticking out at the back in that almost-mullet way he'd clearly taken a liking to. She noticed he'd added to his tattoo collection since they'd last seen each other. He wore dark trousers that were a little tight around his thighs (not that she was complaining about his thighs) and a cream coloured button up that only made him look tanner. Like he always seemed to do at parties, he was wearing his Prada sunglasses indoors. Ali had come close to meeting his eyes but they always looked away when the other looked.

The night continued on with this game of cat and mouse. Ali did a shot with Brendan Piakura that he watched, longingly, from afar. She competed against against AJ Brimson and Keenan Palasia in beer pong, with Silvi as her partner (spoiler: they lost by a landslide). She laughed a little louder at AJ's joke when she noticed a certain kiwi lurking and delicately rested a hand on his forearm as he continued with his story. Her and Jessie Arthur's had then teamed up when Silvi had tapped out—she was a sore loser. Ezra Mam had taken it upon himself to be the official beer adjudicator (after Ali had claimed Brimson and Palasia were cheats). Sadly, it was not Jessie Arthur's who was holding the team back but Ali's inability to land a single ball and she was quickly banished for Xavier Coasts—visiting from Melbourne—to take her spot. She booed at her former teammate as they instantly improved their ball-in-cup ratio.

At some point, she'd ended up on the couch between Patty and Mira—who clearly did not want her separating the two. She'd had a decent amount by now and her voice had grown many decibels louder while her words had started to slur together. The couple, unbeknownst to the blonde, had been lip syncing everything she rambled every-time she looked away.

Ali had just been about to start discussing her favourite shoe brands when Patty cut her off, "oi, Jordan, chuck us a beer!"

The Māori looked slightly like a deer caught in headlights as he shuffled over, gripping a Great Northern by the neck between two fingers. Ali tried to look anywhere but his fingers but her mind couldn't stop reminding her what they were capable of. "Pop a squat—me and Mira are going outside for some air," Patty ordered, grabbing hold of his girlfriends hand as he stood up. Ali could kill them both.

Mira practically pushed the second-rower down onto the couch and he let out an awkward cough when they were completely alone. She couldn't remember the last time they'd been alone—was it the breakup? (Although, they technically weren't really alone as the room still had at least fifty people littering it.) The party was definitely on the wind down; the musics volume had been lowered and Reece's aunt seemed to be doing the rounds, picking up stray cans.

Ali had sunken quite deep into the couch cushions and she knew getting up wasn't going to be graceful or discreet. Their shoulders were touching a fraction—thanks to Mira's clever aim when she pushed him.

"So. . ." She trails off, the boldness that'd overcome her immediately fading as soon as her mouth opened.

Jordan snuck a glance at her. "So. . ."

Ali nodded her head awkwardly, racking her brain for ways to spontaneously combust. "How's life been. . . ?"

"It's been alright—you?"

"Yeah, alright."

"Cool."

"The coolest."

Ali knew what she wanted to ask him and maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system but she blurted it out. "So, are you seeing anyone now?"

Jordan had just tipped his drink back towards his lips as she'd spoke and he choked slightly on his beer. "I. . . not anymore, no."

"But you were?" She didn't mean to pry but curiosity had been eating her inside out and besides, when was she going to get such a good opportunity to ask again?

The New Zealand native carefully thought over his next words before saying, "I briefly dated this girl but. . . it just didn't feel right, you know?" She knew he did, Dailymail Facebook ads loved to remind her every-time she opened that godforsaken app—she just wanted confirmation. 

Oh, boy did Ali know but she decided to play along. "Oh, why?"

"Well, she reckoned I still hadn't moved on from my ex," he tells her, letting out a humourless laugh.

"You're ex. . . ?" She looks at him and he raised an expectant eyebrow at her. "M-me—? or do you mean—"

"Just because it wasn't real to you. . . I still. . . I still think of you as an ex," he admits, not breaking eye contact or stuttering once.

Ali feels herself freeze. "Oh, okay. . ." There's so much she wanted to tell him but the words weren't forming.

He looks away from her and sighs. "It was good seeing you, Ali." Her heart sinks as he goes to walk away—she knew if she let him walk away again, there was no coming back. Now or never.

"It got real for me, too," she practically whispered. Part of her wanted the music to carry her voice away. When he doesn't reply, she decides to add, "I just thought you should know that."

He was having a staring contest with the glass bottle in his hand. "When?"

She knew her answer would hurt him but she was done dancing around her feelings and the truth. "Just before you broke it off."

"Fuck."

They sat there for a moment in uncomfortable silence. Jordan couldn't help but consider every single scenario where she'd communicated these thoughts when they were actually 'together'. They could've been going on eight months of dating.

"Do you wanna go upstairs?"

💌

(@aligreer via snapchat story!)

MIRA TIO REPLIED TO YOUR STORY!
as if u stole my shirts from my suitcase u bitch

(@silviodair via snapchat stories!)

(video)

"Silvi can't talk right now guys, she's throwing up on the white carpets— babe, you've just lost me the deposit—"

THE CLOCK ON THE WALL READ 4AM BUT NEITHER HAD NOTICED. The sanctuary of the bedroom had allowed for walls to come crumbling down and the pair had recounted every single thing they'd missed in each others life. It was how it should've been: easy.

Her legs were sprawled messily across his lap as she leaned on bed head while he leant against the wall, his own legs spilling off the side of the bed. His palm danced circles up and down her thigh mindlessly as the smile didn't leave his lips once while she chatted away. Their drinks, long forgotten about, sat on the bedside table—the condensation long gone.

"—and so obviously I had to just un-match with him after he did that like, hello? Crazy person behaviour."

Jordan let out once of hundreds of chuckles since they'd entered the bedroom. "Poor bloke."

The blonde shook her head, "no. Not poor bloke—more like poor me." She inched closer to him subconsciously and he gripped her thigh, drawing her in. She was barely not sitting on his lap.

"Poor bloke missed out on dating you," he murmured, brushing some hair out of her face—oldest trick in the book.

Ali couldn't help but roll her eyes at his cliched line. "You can welcome him to the club," she muttered back, inching closer again. This time, she was most definitely on his lap.

"I'm actually the president of the club," he replied, not breaking eye contact. His face lowered towards hers but he hesitated—fortunately, Ali closed the rest of the distance. Their lips welded together. Her hands found the back of his neck while his found her waist, pulling her flush against him. As the kiss deepened, his arms travelled up and down her spine—raising goosebumps in their wake. One of her hands eventually found its way towards the hem of his shirt and she tugged at it to be removed however, Jordan gripped her hand. "Let's not rush that this time, I wanna savour you."

The sentiment was sweet but she'd been craving him since February—she didn't know long she could be patient for. She allowed him to lower her back on the bed and gratefully accepted his arms around her as his head rested between her breasts (he'd later tell her it was the best spot a man could dream to lay in). Her finger found his hair and her acrylic-clad fingers twisted their way through.

It could've been the alcohol but Ali hadn't felt so well rested in months. She felt at home again.

💌

💌 KK SPEAKS!

this was going to be longer but i couldn't keep revising this chapter lol