Devil's Advocate (The Big Bad Bullies series) Book 1

Chapter Seven

Tatum...

"Oh my god, that was so good," I say. "Do you guys like my food baby?" I ask while laughing and poking my stomach out even more.

"I told you it would amaze," Brooks says. "And you are not fat, Tatum quit it." he looks at me sternly, taking a sip from his glass.

"Duh I'm not fat. I just have a food baby. See?" I'm rubbing my stomach like a 32 week pregnant woman.

"You would 100% be a milf, Tate." Beau's pupils dilate when I turn to look at him.

"Aren't you glad we came?" Brooks interrupts my thoughts.

"Shut up, I'm still mad, you think you can make all the decisions for me." I glare at him. "News flash, Brooks, you can't. You're lucky it was good or I would've-"

"Would've what Tatum? Storm out like a little brat?" he interrupts me, eyes narrowed.

I don't respond, instead I pour myself a third glass of this delicious champagne. My cheeks are warm from the alcohol.

Beau and Bennett are arguing about some football game from two years ago. I'm feeling the alcohol, it's definitely loosening me up. I don't drink often so I'm 100% a lightweight.

I wonder how much all of this is going to cost. I mean, they covered my steak in edible gold and we're having boujee ass champagne. I can't even imagine spending money like this.

By the time we're ready to go and Brooks pays the check with a generous tip, we walk out of the restaurant.

When I say walk, I mean wobble. At least I am. They all drank the same as me, but yet I'm the only one who actually seems drunk. Plus, it doesn't help that I literally look 13 weeks pregnant after that meal.

I stumble a little in my heels but Brooks catches me.

"This is why you shouldn't drink that much, Tatum."

He seems pissed at me, because I'm drunk? He was the one asking for more bottles. If he was going to judge me for drinking, he shouldn't have ordered it. Now I'm becoming angry drunk Tate.

"Welllll Mr. Rich guy, you buy and I drink. Thanks for the fooood." I slur, patting his shoulder and attempt to step away from him.

The problem is, my heels making that very difficult to just simply walk. I groan and take a step back towards Brooks.

I attempt to take off my heels while holding on to his shoulder, but I keep losing my balance.

Damn champagne.

"This is hard to watch," he says before throwing me over his shoulders and carrying me the rest of the way to the car.

"Put me doooownnn, Fosterrrr" I shout.

He slaps my ass, hard, and it felt... amazing.

"Owwww, what the fuckkkk!" I yell, pulling my dress down to cover the mark that I'm sure is already forming there.

He places me down gently, opening my door, and slides into the driver's seat.

"You can't drive, you drank," I half slur.

"No, I didn't," he replies.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I didn't see him take one sip of champagne.

Dammit, I'm the only sloppy one right now.

"Ugh, nowww I have to go back to my house, drunnnk to my bitch of a mother. Greeeaaattt." I throw my head back, laughing.