L.W.T.B.B Copyright © 2012-2016 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Current Chapter Posted - Friday, June 3rd 2016

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

{ Chapter 18 } : 

The Crowning Moment of Miss Canada And Her "Not-A-Lightweight" Ken.  

        With my hand clasped tightly in his, Sam dragged us back inside Danny's Grill.

Thank the God above, no one had witnessed the little commotion outside. Now that we were away from the scene of crime, I felt a different kind of panic seizing hold of my lungs. It climbed up my windpipes. It was the type of panic you felt within the brackets of a bad aftermath. Connor O' Malley was as bad as they got.

"It's going to be okay," Sam hushed, his vocal chords a little harsh, as he gazed down at me.

His storming eyes did that thing again, where they ran over my face, as if searching for something that wasn't there. Or maybe he'd already found what he was looking for.

I swallowed thickly and cast my gaze downwards, feeling tremors wreck havoc through my body as I pictured Connor advancing towards me. Connor grabbing me. Connor dragging me. Connor laying his hands on me.

"I know," I whispered back, my voice frail and weak.

Deep down inside I must have known it wouldn't get that far. I'd had much similar and much worse done to me in the past, and I'd reacted much worse and much terrified then. I must have known Sam would come for me like he did tonight.

Sam gave my hand one final squeeze, before veering us through the crowd. I noticed how much I liked the feel of his rough palm beneath my much more softer and feminine one.

I allowed Sam to steer me through the pub until we arrived in front of a secluded steel door in the far corner of the place. The words STAFF ONLY were scrawled messily in what seemed to be a black sharpie.

Four impatient knocks later, and a tall older-looking guy emerged from a cramped office. An impassive expression was drilled onto his face as he drank in the sight of Sam and I together.

He was built and lean and hard. Dark hair that was overdue for a haircut framed his head, the color an icy contrast against his glacial blue eyes and natural pale skin tone. He didn't look very impressed with us.

"Sam." There was a hint of a foreign accent. I wasn't sure. He pulled his trendy reading glasses over his head and adjusted an accounts book under the crook of his left armpit. "I'm a little occupied."

"Daniel. I won't take much of your time," Sam returned with the same enthusiasm as he cleared his throat, and motioned to me and my obvious distraught state. "We've got an issue."

The rest of their conversation was a blur and a little bit surreal as my mind floated in-and-out of a trance - like a bad broken record that was stuck on replay and didn't know how to stop. I kept replaying the moment where I saw Connor and how I'd frozen up. I think Sam introduced me to the handsome and brooding Daniel Ivanov who was the Danny in 'Danny's Grill' while we where away from the curious and prodding gazes of lingering patrons. Sam might have explained my current situation and how Sam fucked up his own situation by getting involved with my situation, and now Daniel Ivanov was fiercely promising to have the Connor O'Malley mess cleared out. This entailed having one of his men fetch Connor's unconscious body and making sure he was alive and didn't press any charges. Apparently the ba$tard owned Danny big time - one too many free drinks and one too many drunken bar fights - so he was calling in one of his favors. And, apparently, Sam was calling out one of his own favors from Danny on my behalf. I didn't know how I felt about that part.

"If there's anything else, Sam, you don't hesitate to contact me," Daniel pressed in a low, but firm voice as he addressed Samuel as he would to a little brother.

*            *             *

Sam lifted me onto a barstool because I was still too shocked to move anything on my own after he finished talking to Danny. If I weren't in this state, I'd be disappointed that I let myself get manhandled by someone.

"You're not shaking anymore," Sam remarked as he took the stool opposite of me.

I wasn't.

"But you're still scared and frozen," he finished off in a regretful tone.

I was.

My fingers jerked and played with the idle coaster resting on the bar top, before I felt Sam's breath hit the shell of my right ear. Surprise coated every nerve-ending of mine as he tucked a wavy blond strand behind my ear. "It's going to be okay," he reassured me in a calming voice that had my insides melting to butter. "That guy will never touch you again. Ever." His eyes hardened once again at the thought of that guy. "Relax and let me get you a drink."

His warm big hands were rubbing up and down my shoulders, massaging me and getting me to soften under his touch. It was oddly comforting and intimate. So I gave in and tried for a small reluctant tilt of my lips. "I'm relaxed now...Thank you, Sam...for... everything."

But my eyes spoke a different story and Sam knew, given by the rueful smile he graced me with.

A lone dimple dented his cheek and I reached forward to trace it with the tip of my pointer finger.

Sam's eyes flared and I lowered my hand. "Tell me something. How did you know the guy?"

"I've never met him in my life."

His brows furrowed and he shook his head. "That's not what you told me outside."

"Sam, I don't even remember what I said outside. Please. I'm just disoriented. I don't remember much. I just want to block it all out."

His jaw clenched and he nodded once, sharply, as if not content with my response. "What can I get you to drink?"

I needed to decompress, too, so I mumbled, "Rum and Pepsi."

Sam held my gaze as he gestured a bartender over with two fingers. Feeling flustered with the way he was looking at me, I went to retrieve my wallet when Sam stopped me with a small glare. He went on to open his very own.

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when I saw the thick wad of cash carefully rolled inside his leather wallet. A disarray of twenties and fifties safely tucked in there without a care in the world.

Where in the world did he get all that money from? I'd never seen someone carry so much cash in their wallet.

Realizing that I saw, Sam muttered something like a curse under his breath, before slapping out a twenty on the bar and giving his order to an approaching bartender. His wallet was shoved back in the confinements of his jeans pocket. He ordered a Jack and Coke for himself.

I looked away when he conversed with the worker.

"What's up with the gloomy mood, Cade?" Sam jested in an asshole manner to the cute bartender. "Haven't seen your ex-girlfriend in a while?"

"Fvck you, Adams," The bartender sneered, scraping his fingers through his brown hair. "If you don't want me to poison your drinks, stop running that smart mouth of yours."

Sam winked. "I run it because it reminds you of Ella."

I had no clue what they were talking about, but paid attention to their conversation anyway. Anything was better than thinking back to my encounter.

Cade - I assumed was his name - growled and stuffed the twenty in the black apron tied around his waist. He didn't bother handing Sam back any change, so I figured this was usual for them.

"Sam," I whispered loud enough to gain his undivided attention. I didn't mean to interrupt him, but I needed to tell him this now. He stopped conversation and shifted closer to me. Going as far as tipping my chin with his finger. "Can we please leave soon?"

His green eyes - so husky and smoky - glided down my face in obvious concern and, seeming to understand what I was asking, he nodded once, promising, "Soon."

A burning mark was left in the wake of his touch as he dropped his hand away. I felt the imprint of his finger searing me down to my toes and all the way back up into my constricting chest.

"Let's just have a drink and then we'll go." His breathy words had the little hairs at my hairline moving.

"You can't drive afterwards."

"Anna, Relax. Relax, okay, sweetheart? One drink isn't going to put me under the influence. It'll take a bit more than that to get me tipsy."

He ignored my disapproving look at his bad choice. I sighed lightly, glancing away. Before he drew my attention back to him with a lazy graze of his knuckles against mine.

I shivered.

He smirked a little sadly. "I still need to know you're okay."

I bit my lip. Sam stood so still and so tall, his features contorted in pure worry for me. His gaze fell to my mouth; he licked his lips.

As if stuck in a reverie, he rasped, "Shit. Seeing you out there with that fvcker messed with my head. You need to tell me you're okay. Give me the words. Do it before I go back out there and take his fvcking life."

Sam's fingers were back on my face, his thumb grasping my chin with gentle pressure, tugging the skin a little down until I freed my bottom lip from my teeth.

"That's a little intense, Beer Boy." My breath hitched as his thumb did a teasing sweep of my bottom lip. "E-Even more."

He released a hot, frustrated sound from his mouth that hit my stomach like a sucker punch. "Anna. Say the words. Please, sweetheart."

The seriousness in his voice threw me off balance. For a scary second, I considered it. I imagined what kind of bodily harm Sam was truly capable of. I shuddered. His body, hard, strong, roped with muscle could do so much harm. I'd witnessed it. I knew it.

Reaching forward and squeezing his bicep with my hand, I looked deeply into his conflicted eyes. "I'm okay and it's all because of you. Thank you for coming after me like that."

My chest flipped at the look in his eyes. "You never have to thank me for that." He touched his fingertips to my cheek like he just couldn't resist. "Ever."

"All right, Beer Boy." But I'd always thank him anyway, if the situation called for my gratefulness.

Satisfied with the outcome of our conversation, Sam turned back around and fell into playful banter with the bartender who prepared our drinks. They joked around about ex-girlfriends and libidos.

My mind and body were recovering slowly, that I spiralled back into surprise when Nicholas stepped forth from the swinging doors of the kitchen to work the bar, stuffing a clean rag into the back pocket of his low slung jeans. He was in the midst of throwing on his form-fitting black uniform shirt (I got a good look at those abs).

Until he countered the haunted look on my face and froze.

"Anna?" Nicholas's eyes moved over me confusedly. "Hey..."

"Hi." My voice was barely above a whisper. "H-How are you doing?"

I blinked quickly the tears that stung my eyes anew. I was tired of feeling like this. It was stupid to go over this again. Sam obviously took care of the situation, and Danny made sure it would never be spoken of again. So, why? Why, oh, why was I freaking out again? Because I saw Nicholas? Because I somehow would always connect him with that time in my life?

"What. The. Hell. Is. Wrong," he bit out suddenly, barely reigning in his anger. Thunder stormed in those brown eyes at seeing something dark and broken in my expression.

Ignoring the throng of customers that waited for their drinks, he rounded the massive bar until he was prowling towards me with a purpose.

I panicked even more, because I didn't want to have a mental breakdown in front of him. I wanted to be okay now, damn it. I didn't want him to speak to me sweetly and caringly, afraid that it would evoke an entire new kind of monster inside of me.

He did so, anyways, ignoring my attempt at schooling my features into indifference. "You look like you saw a fvcking ghost, Anna. What happened to you?"

I looped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his throat.

His brawny arms bracketed me in a bone-crushing hug.

"C-Connor," I broke out haltingly against the skin of his neck. "He found me."

Every muscle in Nicholas's body hardened like it had once been nothing but liquid matter. "Anna."

"Outside." I finally took a decent breath when my old best friend tucked his face in my hair and breathed me in like old times. "T-Tried to d-drag me to an alleyway. I-I'm o-okay now-"

"Stop. Just stop." He ripped himself away from me and branded my upper arms with his hands. His jaw worked in fury and every word of his dripped in venom. "Stop before I leave this place right now to kill him."

I may have whimpered. Or some sort of pathetic noise might have escaped my lips.

Nicholas once again enveloped me in his warm embrace. "He'll pay, Anna. I swear he'll-"

"Already fucking done."

We flinched and jerked apart as Sam's hard voice echoed between us. He sidled beside me and rested a possessive hand on my lower back, igniting heat and awareness.

"Sam," Nico intoned in a barely-behaved greeting.

Sam chin-lifted. "Nick."

Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner and Sam did the same. They seized each other up in a rather silly match of testosterones. Without a doubt, they're would be no loser - they'd both win.

"I'm f-fine. I promise," I interrupted quickly, rising to my feet and planting myself between them. "It's all okay now. I won't f-freak out anymore."

They both ignored me.

Nicholas eyed Sam disdainfully as he pushed a wayward curl out of his eye. "What exactly happened?"

"Nothing. Some fvcker tried laying his dirty, unwanted hands on her and I stopped it before it got too far. End of story."

Nicholas's stubbly jaw shifted with irritation - no longer at Sam - and he scrapped a hand through it, the sound like sandpaper. "Good."

Then he backed up and rounded the long bar, not giving me a chance to add in my two cents. He threw himself into polishing shot glasses and taking orders, leaving me on the sidelines. I wasn't done talking to him.

But apparently, Sam wasn't done talking to me either.

Feeling his eyes on me, I angled his way and murmured, "What?"

He perused me from head-to-toe with a curled top lip. "How do you know Nick?"

I hated when people called him Nick - it rhymed with d*ck. "You mean Nico? We, um, go way back."

Something flashed in his green eyes. "Just like you go way back with Nate?"

I stiffened in my seat, not liking his bitter tone or bitter reminder of Nate. "Yeah, something like that."

His hand brushed my back and I pivoted around in my stool, all but ending any remaining conversation.

He got my message.

After leaving me with my drink, he walked away and left me to my musings.

*            *          *

  It took a lot of convincing on my part to get Nicholas to take a five minute break from serving his groupies to come and talk to me.

Eyes heavy and dirty rag slapped onto the shoulder of his shirt, he sauntered towards me with a transforming expression.

I'd fully recovered from my incident. That, or the alcohol had fully numbed any remaining effect my thoughts had on me. I felt calm and mellow as I nursed my drink for the last fifteen minutes.

"Are you mad at me? I asked in a quiet voice, quiet enough for only Nico to hear when he approached.

Seeming stunned, the light-heartedness achieved by flirting casually with the cute Latinas on the other side of the bar vanished from his eyes in a split second.

"No, Anna," Nicholas enunciated, bracing his hands along the bar surface. "I could never be mad at you. I'm pissed as fvck."

"At what?"

"Connor. Joey," he spat the names like they were pure poison on his tongue. "Your entire situation. Me. Being so helpless and not being able to help you. Not then and not now."

My fingers twitched along with my heart as I unwrapped my fingers from my scotch glass - in which I was given R&P. I grasped his hand affectionately and gave it a squeeze. "Oh, Nicholas. You have nothing to be mad about."

My mess wasn't anyone's mess but my own. It warmed my heart that people actually cared for me...But I didn't want to see people hurting because of me. Sam, for instance...

Sam who'd gone through the pain to come looking out for me. Sam who'd gone out of his way to express that my guilt was unnecessary. Sam who'd tried to make me feel better by offering me a drink. Sam...who currently kept shooting me sly worried/annoyed glances as he conversed with another bartender three stools down from me. I was king of ignoring him.

"What's the deal with you and him?" Nicholas suddenly piped up with a sh*it-eating grin.

"Hmm?" My eyes sought and held contact with Sam's for two point five seconds.

"You and Sam, Anna," Nicholas let out a whistling laugh. "You're both eye-fvcking each other. What gives?"

The last bit was whispered out. I choked on saliva or maybe a mouthful of my concoction, I wasn't certain. A beat-root blush crept up and coated the better half of my face at his suggestive slash crass words.

"Oh. My. God. Nick!"

He laughed throatily and more openly now. "Hey! You said you'd never call me Nick."

"That's because you're acting like a d*ick!" I slapped his chest and none too gently either. The two Latinas eyed me angrily as I punished their idol of the night. "I'm blushing. Holy sh*it. Eye-fvcking? I don't know what in God's green earth you're talking about."

"Real cute." He continued chuckling, his shoulders shaking lightly with the movement. "You so do, Anna. Admit it."

I covered my face with my hands and hissed, "I hate you."

Once his laughter subdued he leaned forward. A calculate glint in his eyes appeared. "He's into you."

"No, he's not." Sam sometimes came off strong but he wasn't into me. No. He just loved flirting and messing with my head.

"Yeah, he is," Nicholas threw back. "I've heard it from Nate and even Cade, the guy that bartends with me."

I sneaked a glance at Samuel, and sure enough, both he and Cade were looking at us with matching vexed expressions.

Before I could blush anymore, I looked away, my hair water-falling and creating a type of shield to block me from Sam's view.

"You're lying," I said more to myself than to him. God help me, I might even believe Nicholas.

Silence bestowed itself upon us.

"Beware though, Jodanna. Sam's a cool guy and I've known him for awhile now, but he's not the relationship kind of guy. And you're exactly that kind of girl - the relationship one."

His uttered words travelled and resonated deeply within me like a high octave note.

I pondered over this as I sipped my drink. Nico and I gazed at each other. The wheels in my head turned and Nicholas noticed, if the sad curve of his mouth was any indication.

"You don't ever have to worry about me."

"I know I don't. But...I still do."

Then a shadow passed next to me and bumped fists with Nicholas. The latter's face brightened. "Hey," Rumbled a raspy voice.

It was Nate and I froze yet again. Nicholas noticed that as well, always the observant one. I refused to say hi, choosing to keep my back ramrod straight and hair cascaded in front of me to shield my face. Nate tried. His attempt at greeting me was shot down by my pissed-off demeanor.

Every muscle in my frame locked and tightened like a bowstring. I liquefied when he walked away, awkward, and maybe even a little hurt by my rejection. Nicholas evaluated me with a disapproving look.

"You need to let it go, Anna," he chastised. "Cut the guy some slack."

"Tell me you didn't just say that to me."

"I didn't just say that to you."

"Nicholas." My angry gaze held his - and I was angry that he was bringing this up. "He's just as bad as the others, he was there -"

"-That doesn't mean anything, Anna." Nicholas turned the full force of his mocha-browns on me, analyzing me, judging me with his stare. They were truly magnificent and truly close that I could practically count every long lash. Except they were not happy-campers. "I was there. Hell, the whole population of Westwood High was there when infamous party girl Jodanna Reina Sereno was dethroned and str*ipped of her dignity and pride. It means nothing."

It meant something because those words shouldn't have stung. Dethroned. Str*ipped. Pride. Nothing.

With a collective calmness I didn't know I possessed, I pushed my drink away from me and got up wordlessly.

"Don't," Nicholas warned through clenched teeth, waving a hand down. "Detener, Anna. I'm not done. Sit your pretty culo down, hermana, before I make you."

Papi King was coming out of his shell, as the Latinas at Westwood referred to him whenever he'd get worked up and his accent and mother tongue came into play. That sentence always made me laugh. That sentence always made Nicholas cringe. I debated throwing it out there to piss him off.

"I don't speak Spanish, a$$hole," I hissed back, sitting my 'culo' down on the stool anyway.

He mock smirked a little wryly, eyes dancing with dark amusement. "You understand just enough to get my instructions. Comprende, si?"

"Jodete, Estupido."

Nico sighed as he touched his stubbly jaw. "That's not nice. Should have never taught you those words."

I flipped him the bird.

"Hear me out, will you?"

I glared at him over the rim of my glass as I guzzled my drink.

He went on anyway, his voice changing from playful to somber again. "What I'm saying is that Nate - along with a lot of people - was there when he humiliated you. But just because Nate stood there, shocked with the rest of them doesn't make him a bad guy -"

"-Nicholas, listen to yourself-"

"-He just didn't have the time to react, Anna. No one did. Nate's not a bad guy. He's fvcking strong and doesn't take anyone's sh*it. It wouldn't have taken him and some other decent guys that long to come to your defense that day-"

"But you were all Joey's b*itches back then," I concluded bitterly, my eyes glazing. I flashed back to that day, seeing familiar and unfamiliar faces in the sea of bodies, looking at me either with pity or sympathy. Or amusement. Like I got what I deserved. I hated it. "Maybe you still are."

I remember seeing Nicholas running through the doors, a little too late, his expression haunted when he'd realize my damage was done. He couldn't have saved me either way. I was done for.

"No one is his b*itch." Nicholas's face scrunched up like he ate something sour. "No one was ever his b*itch."

"Oh, so you all deliberately fvcked girls - not you, of course - for money. Nice. Real great. Nate is no different than the rest. I wonder how much he bet on me. Wonder how many v*irginities he's taken for the sake of cash."

"You're impossible," Nicholas growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Clearly he did not appreciated my sarcasm. Someone hollered his name, but he ignored them. It occurred to me that I was taking his time from his work.

"I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully. We'll never talk about it ever again, okay?"

I held my silence stubbornly and took the next Rum and Pepsi he prepared for me when I drained mine.

Nicholas scraped a hand through his curls and growled like he was already regretting his decision.

"That day when you got humiliated and left, everyone laughed and made fun of you. Connor was making plans about...cornering you...later on that same day with some guys behind Joey's back. Said it was his turn to have some of that sweet Scottish-Brazilian a$s now that Joey was done. It slipped from one of the guys' mouths and I found out. I was going to kill Connor after school, my mind was made. I fvcking waited for him. I'd never been more livid in my life. I didn't know where you were and you weren't answering my calls. When Connor turned up, Nate was right there with me. No questions asked. Out of the fvcking blue. Connor tried to fvck with us. Nate beat the ever loving out of Connor - nearly until he was fucking dead - and left him by the fucking dumpsters at school. When I asked Nate why he helped, why he did what he did without knowing you - besides that you were Joey's conquest - he said you were a decent girl who didn't deserve what you got."

*             *            *

The thing about the feeling of guilt is that you could never make it disappear in one single moment. It took time. It gradually dissipated and that too with a lot of mental courage and positive thinking.

I could give myself the mother of all mental pep-talks, but I had this natural tendency to let such a strong emotion build a cardboard box inside of me. Sometimes even until that emotion ruled my every thought and feeling. Guilt would linger around me, it was suffused inside of me, like an adamant ghost that refused to leave, erasing and vanishing only with the telltale signs of time.

Nicholas's words were harsh and poignant and they continued to resonate within me even after he'd walked away with the final word. Currently he was busy serving his Latina groupies while I pondered over this new revelation of Nate.

Nicholas would never lie to me, so I knew his words were nothing but the utmost truth. Nate had defended me. So had Nicholas.

This meant that I was swimming in guilt. I'd always hated people who jumped to conclusion and accused people without knowing the entire story. I'd jumped onto Nate's case, gone as far as wanting to attack him when I realized that he was there that day with Joey. Standing by the garage with Sam after I'd seen my ex-boyfriend, all I could think about was how he was like just the rest of them.

That was unlike me. I knew I had to apologize.

No one had ever stood up for me when I'd turned into a social pariah. No one wanted to talk to me. No one wanted to be around me. No one besides Layla and Gabriela. It was the worst time of my life. I learned a lot of things about myself as I kept isolated.

However, I had to squander my former thought. It was a lie. There were people who wanted to talk to me, to be around me. I was just to blind to see it, locked up in my own world of personal hate. Over the course of the last two weeks, I'd connected with people from my past - people who wanted to see me then and still wanted to see me now. Nicholas King and my old friend Marissa Wright were just two measly examples.

I spotted Nate from the corner of my eye. When I tilted my head, I noticed that he was taking a beer with Sam. Our eyes meant. Understanding coursed through our gazes. I gave a brief nod in a lame attempt at a late greeting - and also because I didn't have the lady balls to properly vocalize my apology - and he chin-jutted back, followed by a cute smirk I felt he reserved for moments just like these.

So we were okay. I'd work to rectify my past mistakes from here.

I worked up the courage to get up from my seat and walk over to the two boys chatting boyishly three stools down. Sam was the first to react, throwing me a gentle look and scooting over to make some room for me. Nate was standing, arm propped against the bar counter as he tipped his drink to his mouth.

Once again our eyes met and I looked at him as he took a healthy pull of his beverage.

Nate broke the ice first. His pale blue irises warmed under the pleasant dim lighting of the bar candelabra hanging over our heads. "Hey, Anna."

I smiled up at Nate and crossed the extra mile by reaching forward to give him a one-armed hug. He smelled nice - all musky and male. "Hey, Nate."

My peace offering was pathetic and something told me Nate knew it as well, if the jagged curve of his black eyebrow was any indication. He hid his surprise well, choosing to school his features instead. He granted me a sexy curl of his lips in approval.

Jesus, he was good-looking. Despite what I thought of him in the last few days, I wasn't blind or immune to his blazing come-mess-with-me eyes, faded black stubble and bad boy slash movie star charming looks.

Sam was looking at me when I pivoted his way. Puzzled. Too confused. His chiseled jaw clenched beneath his five o' clock shadow. "You good now?"

I nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"Give me a few minutes to finish my drink and we can head out then."

"Sounds good."

I grinned at him, suddenly feeling free and light, and it might have been due to the two drinks I had . Rum didn't affect me quickly and nor was I a lightweight, but as mentioned before, my tolerance sucked lady balls after being on a drinking hiatus for so long.

Sam gifted me with a groove denting his cheek as he peered up at me with a smile. I may have giggled, smirking right back.

The bartender - Cade - sauntered our way, breaking the moment. His chocolate brown hair was mussed and there was a red lipstick stain on his haw. He bumped fists with Nate and they did that weird handshake thing boys do.

"Bro, you're totally fvcking around on the job," Nate laughed huskily as he touched his index finger to his own cheek, gesturing to Cade's scandalous mark.

Cade's baby blues sparked with an unnamed emotion and he hid his wry smile as he cleaned the counter with a bar cloth. "What can I say," he rumbled in a surprisingly quiet voice, "The ladies love me."

Nate burst out laughing and nearly missed the rim of the bottleneck."That's new," Nate said, shrugging out of his trendy jeans jacket and slipping into a bar stool. Swiftly, I noticed two dog tags hung around his neck and dangled against the collar of his tight black t-shirt.

Cade stopped wiping. "Fvck you. I've got game. Okay?"

Sam and I watched their exchange with mutual silence.

Nate raised his hand to touch the small diamond stud in his ear and the movement caused his bicep to bulge against the material of his shirt. I'd seen Nate's tattoos once in the dark, but I couldn't decipher them then. Now I realized his right arm had a sleeve of intricate weaving of tribal designs that was oddly hot.

"No, thank you," he shot with cheekiness. "Why don't you reserve all the fvcking for your ex-girlfriend. Tell me, how's Ella doing?"

Cade's face blanched like he'd encountered a phantom. Nate quivered with howling laughter.

Feeling a tug on my wrist, my skin tingled. I knew that touch. It was Samuel. Always Samuel.

His green eyes were raging a storm. "What's wrong?" The uttered words were sharp and barely above a whisper.

I shook my head at him, leaning a little closer to his side. "I don't understand."

"You're staring at Nate," he pressed. "Why do you keep looking at him?"

Well, he's kind of hot, I suppose. But, then again, so are you. I shrugged and swayed a little. "Didn't realize it."

Sam's gaze darted like a pistol between Nate and , before an unreadable expression carved a path onto his face. Something morphed within him - I could feel it - and his fingers were on my fingers, squeezing with gentle pressure and veering me closer. "Want to sit?"

More people had filed onto the pub, namely the bar section and all the stools were occupied. "Where?" I asked.

He didn't say anything more, just spoke with his eyes and actions. He pulled me even closer until our thighs bumped. My left breast touched his right bicep and our hands skimmed his jeans clad right knee.

My breath hitched and Sam's gaze followed the movement, sweeping over my heaving chest, to my collarbone and then to my mouth. It stayed there for a beat longer before flickering to my eyes. From this distance I could see the copper flecks in his otherwise pure emerald gems.

He laced our fingers and squeezed again, and I got the impression that he'd either move for me or make me sit on his lip. Both were good options, I assumed, since I could totally climb onto his lap and rest in the cradle between his strong thighs. He had muscular legs and I'm sure he could easily have two girls sitting on them for long hours without breaking a sweat. And why I thought of that, I had no idea. I scowled at my own stupid, alcohol-induced train of thought.

"You goin' to introduce me to Miss Canada now, Sam?"

Cade and Nate were staring at us both with knowing looks, and I blushed so hard at the compliment, it wasn't normal.

Sam's knuckles grazed down my back teasingly and a shiver rippled through me. He looked at Cade a little smug. "This is Miss Canada, Cade. Anna, this is Cade."

Cade's mouth hung ajar. "No way, man! That's Anna - the Anna?"

"The Anna," Nate confirmed.

"Er, Hi," I mumbled to Cade, who's expression was now escalating to shock. I directed a meaningful glance at Sam, as if to say, 'what the eff are they talking about?'

He glared at his two friends menacingly. "Nothing," he spat out and took the final pull of his drink, before slapping it down with a loud clunk ."Let's go."

Sam hoisted himself up and grasped my hand again. Our chest collided and sparks ignited. A sound escaped my mouth and Sam's eyes flared. He brushed my hair behind my shoulder again. He kept touching. Couldn't stop touching me.

"Aw, don't be mad," Cade recovered quickly and echoed from behind us.

Sam flipped him the bird without looking at him.

"Watch out, Cade, you might hurt his feelings. He can be sensitive." That was Nate being obnoxious as they both chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes but began taking out his wallet and keys. "As always, it was nice seeing you fvckers-"

"-You can't just leave yet," Nicholas spoke up as he presented himself next to Cade behind the bar, two tequila shot glasses between his agile fingers. "Complimentary shots for surviving the worst of the night. They're on the house."

He meant Sam beating up Connor, and me making it through.

"I'm driving," Sam deadpanned, waving away the nice gesture.

Cade winked and combed his fingers through his disheleved hair. "Oh, he's a lightweight. Look at that."

"I'm not a lightweight," Sam argued. "Everybody knows that."

Nate jested, tipping his bottleneck at Sam. "Sam, man. You're being tested now. You walk away now, you're branded a pu$$y."

Sam's snorted and glanced down at our feet, shaking his head. "Anna and I need to go home."

The boys catcalled and wolf-whistled when he said that.

He glared at them. "I need to drive us home. I'm not drinking anymore."

Cade leaned over the bar and regarded us both with a taunting look. "Prove it, Sam."

*         *         *

I was as light as a feather, surrounded in a thick bracketing of a strong muscle fortress.

My fingers and legs felt weightless, as if I could float through any barrier. But I couldn't budge, despite feeling like I was on cloud nine. No. Sam prevented me from doing so.

"Barbie." His mouth moved hotly against my jaw line, a classic act of pure tease, before skimming my earlobe. "We need to get home."

I swayed in his embrace. Or maybe I was just floating. "Beer Boy," I slurred. My hands flexed on his shoulders, before curving along the nape of his neck and clutching the short, silky strands there. "Y-You should have brought me home an hour ago."

His deep rumble of laughter, underlined by a hint of his drunkenness , reverberated through every bone and vein in my body until I felt like I was shaking. Floating. No, flying. I sucked in a sharp breath with the sole purpose of filling my lungs with his addictive scent and pressed my cheek to his stubbly one, loving the feel of his golden whiskers. I'd always wanted to do that; to feel that. Better than flying and floating.

"You think they're going to make out now?" Somewhere in the deep abyss of my mind, my brain - well, the part that wasn't sh*it-faced hammered - registered Cade's humored voice.

"Nah. Sam doesn't have those kind of balls. He'd sh*it his pants before he even grazed Miss Canada's tantalizing mouth."

Was that Nate conversing with Cade? They sounded amused. I only listened to a quarter of their exchange.

I shivered when warm bare hands traced the edge of my cut-off jeans short, traveling up to my lower back until thumbs delved under the material of my top, pressing against the quickly warming skin.

"You're touching me," I breathed. "Sam, you're touching me."

Drunk emerald gems connected with mine. "What are you going to do about it?" Drunk, tipsy or sober, cockiness and self-assuredness would always be a trait of Samuel Adams.

"You're drunk," I whispered to him, swaying lightly against his chest. Not helping my situation.

"I'm not drunk," he reasoned confidently, tightening his brawny arms around me to pull me closer. It did nothing, but push my t*its to his face. His mouth worked. Obviously this had been his purpose. Drunk, tipsy, or sober, Samuel Adams would always try to get hands-on with my assets like the pervert he was. "I'm just...intoxicated by you."

In the background noise, I heard Nate and Cade howling like wolves with laughter.

Five drinks and nine tequila shots later, Sam and I had definitely proven ourselves to the boys. His resilience to the strong substance that was alcohol - seriously, it took a lot to get him tipsy-practically-drunk like his current stare - and further demonstrating that he wasn't a lightweight, while I only proved that I no longer had a tolerance for downing poured fingers, further portraying that I no longer held or deserved the Anna-Eleven-Shot-Party-Queen title.

Now we'd gotten to a point where he was lazily sprawled on his barstool, and I was standing between the parted V of his muscular thighs, with him gripping my flesh tightly like I was a lifeline.

"If you're going to hit on me-" I slurred, poking his rock hard chest with one free hand and using the other to jerk his head backwards so I could stare at his powerful throat working with difficult swallows, his adam's apple bobbing up-and-down like a golf ball. I think I had a thing for necks. Biting. Sucking. Licking and kissing them like it was nobody's business. "-do it with some f-finesse. D-Don't be cheesy."

"I'm not cheesy."

"Says the guy who hit on my with a Fifty Shades Of Grey line."

"You remember that, Miss Canada?" His red-rimmed eyes took on a glazed quality and his voice was somehow sexier when drunk. Deeper and slower.

His thumb dipped inside the waistband of my jeans short with taunt, challenge, and a little bit of wickedness to get me to start talking.

"Maybe I aim t-to please," I imitated in a bad falsetto. It was nowhere close to his voice. "Y-You went all Christian Grey on me, buddy."

He laughed throatily, eyes glazed. "I did not."

I swayed as I felt waves of oceans crashing inside of me, pulling me under. Was it just dizziness? Maybe I needed another drink. "You so did. I'm not Ana Steele. I'm Anna Sereno!"

Reaching for my unfinished Rum and Pepsi, I was surprised to have it ripped out of my grasps with a scolding Cade."You're done for the night."

Why? Oh, no, why? I turned my best puppy-dogs eyes onto Sam and pouted, biting my lower lip. "Beer Boy. He's not giving it to me. Do something about it."

Big hands coasted up my back, like a caress, and ignited a handful of ocean waves within me. Closing my eyes, I shivered. Those same hands were now spanning my shoulder blades and tugging me closer.

When my eyes fluttered open, Sam was looking at me intensely, like I once again held the key to a treasure he sought. A lost pirate at sea finding a stranded, lone mermaid. I giggled at my imagery.

He glided the rough pads of his fingertips against my open-mouth and husked, "I'll give it to you."

I giggled and Sam smiled tenderly. I pretended to bite his fingers. "Careful, I bite."

Despite the screen of blurr my state had weaved, I believed I saw his eyes hood over. "Maybe I want to be bitten."

"Holy sh*it," Nate said, laughter evident in his voice. "You need to send me the video later. This is like corny foreplay before the real p0rno."

Cade agreed with a sound. "Pure fvcking gold. He's going to kill us tomorrow when he sees this."

"Are we...on camera?" I asked, confused, raking my fingers through my long blond waves. If I was on camera, I needed to look good!

"...And the winner of Miss Universe isss..." Cade paused for suspense while Nate mimicked drum rolls by slapping his hands a couple of times on the bar top. "Misssssss Cah-na-duhhhhh."

Nate whooped while the sound of silverware clanking against glassware echoed everywhere in our vicinity. Also in my head.

An Iphone was thrust into my face. "This is going on Snapchat." I blinked. "Miss Anna Sereno, how does it feel to be the most beautiful woman on earth?"

"I-I...uh...What?" I slurred, slapping the camera away.

More snickering resonated and then I felt Sam's head burry in the crook of my neck, his open-mouth slipping up the length of my neck. A breathless sound escaped my lips as I grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair and tried to bring him closer. Or faraway. I didn't know.

"Stop the recording now, Cade," Nicholas's voice growled. "They're both drunk and going to kill you tomorrow morning."

"Wait, we forgot her crown!" A hat was placed onto my head, I think. "We're done now," Nate said, cracking up.

I was getting dizzier and sleepier by the second. "Sam...Can we go home now?"

His green eyes, wet mouth, tousled blonde fauxhawk and stubble entered my line of vision. He looked like a virility God and a wild, barbaric beast caged at the same time. "Yeah," he grated. "We can go, Barbie."

Cade's amused voice flitted to me, before Sam and I were being torn away from each other. "So, Miss Universe. Tell us. How does it feel to have football champion Samuel Rafael Adams leave behind a numerous trail of hickeys on your neck?"

More boisterous male laughter resounded in my head.

Nicholas stepped between Nate and Cade, his angry stricken face and imposing frame eating up the distance between them. "You fucking assholes. You've had your fun. Now I'm taking these two home. Say your good-byes and get out of here."

Nate and Cade laughed in unison. "Okay, Papi Chulo."

*            *            *

Sam's hands were kneading my a$s as he thrust me into the backseat of Nicholas's borrowed car, before following suit. I giggled girlishly; he laughed boyishly, swatting my butt playfully.

Nicholas put our seat belts on with much struggle - due to our resistance to his safety methods. "Can I trust you both to behave and not do something stupid?"

We didn't say a word. He shut the door with a martyr sigh. We laughed some more.

The car was driving smoothly and quietly until Nicholas turned on the radio. The sound of music and fresh air emitted from my open window were not a combination that helped me. My stomach churned and I felt a telltale squeeze in my gut, followed by the acidic liquid climbing up my throat.

My head lolled against the back of the seat. "I-I'm going to be sick."

Automatically, Sam's big hand came to cradle my head and Nicholas shot an unopened water bottle in the back seat.

"Drink up," he instructed as he took a sharp right.

Sam helped me unscrew the bottle. Then he gingerly tipped my head back and made me drink. It was cute. He was cute.

"All good, Barbie Girl?" He slurred, resting against the window. He got some water on himself when he tried sipping a little bit as well.

I smiled sloppily, pushing my now windswept hair back. "All good, Beer Boy."

We laughed again, the sound a wonderful cacophony of harmonic melodies in my ear.

"Dear God, help me," Nico muttered from the driver's side as he shifted gears.

A few minutes later, my body was crammed, my eyes droopy and my throat parched from belting out to Justin Timberlake's "Not A Bad Thing" with Sam - he'd sung to me "Don't act like it's a bad thing to fall in love, with me," in his sweetest, drunkest voice - and it was safe to say that we'd given Papi King a pounding headache with our drunken shouts.

"I'm hot," I whined, unbuckling my belt. Nico was in the middle of taking a left turn when I levelled myself up and was accidently propelled forward into Sam's lap. He lifted me up. I straddled his hips, grabbing his broad shoulders for support.

"Oh, God," Nicholas's frantic gaze met ours in the rear-view mirror. "Please, don't take off your clothes, guys. I'm fvcking begging you."

"Hear t-that, Sam?" We need to behave or else Papi King will be m-mad at u-us."

Samuel moistened his bottom bee-stung lips and it looked like it gleamed with a sheen coat of honey under the swiftly passing streetlights. He gazed at me hungrily. "That's a damn shame. Your assets are holy grounds for ultimate worshipping."

I may have thwacked his arm. "Stop being naughty and nasty at the same time."

"C-Can't help it, you're beautiful."

Nicholas released a frustrated sound as he drove us home. "Barbie and Ken, will you shut the fvck up for two seconds, while I bring you to your Dream House."

Sam frowned in protest. "I'm not a K-Ken doll."

"Ken is such a attractive guy," I remarked on a sigh. "Barbie's a lucky b*itch."

"Then I'm Ken," Sam stated with a curt nod.

I teased a finger over his stubble peppered jaw. "You...don't look like ken."

He winked. Even drunk, it was sexy. "T-That's right, I'm hotter."

Nicholas's heated words echoed in the cab of his car. He shut off the radio and rolled up all the windows. "Dios mio, a bunch of ninos I'm motherfvcking stuck with."

Pulling up at my driveway, Nicholas unlocked all the doors and came out to face us. His brown depths sparked with exhaustion and his muscular chest bowed up and down under his tight uniform shirt with every constant breath.

After bringing us safely to our doorstop - I hugged him and Sam clapped his back once - he drove off and I faced Sam, fumbling with my house keys. "W-We can't make any sounds," I whispered conspiringly. "Everyone is sleeping."

Sam swaggered and slumped against the brick wall beside the front door, perusing me with a panty-melting look. "Deal."

We made so much noise stumbling inside the house.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬    

A/N: Whoo! That was a heavy chapter - 8000 words :) Hope you guys enjoyed it ! I know a lot happened and it's a lot to take in! 

Leave me your thoughts on everything! Nate and Nico? Cade Brown finally returning LOL? Sam and Anna and their relationship! How do you think they're progressing? Seems to me that getting alcohol in their vicinity isn't a good idea since they either always do 1) stupid stuff or 2) make their sexual tension worse ;) xx

Thank you for bringing this story to #26 on romance!