The Mighty Fall In Love

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I kiss at Andy who lies beneath me, unclothed except for boxers.

I don't remember when we moved from behind the door over to the bed, or how we got undressed. I don't remember how I ended up on top of Andy, knees on either side of his hips, hands next to his head. I don't remember how long we've been kissing or how long we've been grinding our hips into each other's pelvises.

I swap spit with Andy, shutting my eyes tight so all I see is black, trying to convince myself that it is Pete who is beneath me. I try to pretend that I'm not on top of the drummer of my band, because this is not where I want to be.

Even in my drunk state - brain buzzing, thoughts swirling around, body only moving in time because of all the alcohol - a small part of me knows I'll regret this.

Our tongues fight, our lips press, our bodies grind, but none of it feels right. If anything, it just reminds me even more that he isn't Pete. The moans he lets out aren't in the right key. The way his hands twist in my hair isn't the same. The inside of his mouth doesn't taste the anywhere near what I'm used to. No part of Andy is remotely close to Pete.

But fuck it. I need a good fuck to let out all my tension. And right now, I've got an easy one right underneath me.

I kiss at Andy harder and more demanding. He presses his fingers into my sides, which is nothing Pete would ever do.

"Mmmm," Andy murmurs between kisses. "I've wanted this for a long time."

That small sentence sparks something within me, and makes me realize that this is no good. Somehow through the cloud in my brain, I see some light shining, trying to make sense of the situation.

Running straight for a rebound fuck won't get me anywhere; won't put me any further ahead in the game. Pete's probably off having dirty conversations over the phone with Meagan, completely content with his choice.

Fucking Andy will only raise tensions. Not only between me and Andy, but between the band.

Lead singer fucking two out of three of his band mates? What a dirty slut.

I could never have that weight on my shoulders.

Plus when Pete finds out about Andy? I'll be fucked (literally and figuratively) because then I know Pete would never want me.

So for tonight, making out is more than enough, I decide.

Andy's lips smash into my own with force. His hands move down my sides to my cock, grazing over the thin fabric. I'm hard, but not because of Andy.

It's because I was thinking of Pete; his taste, his smell, his moans, his movement.

And suddenly I feel sick.

I pull away from the kiss, peel myself off of Andy and off the bed, running into the small bathroom. I make it to the toilet before I start throwing up the liquids that resided in my stomach.

"Hey, you okay?" Andy asks from behind me, rubbing the small of my back. "That alcohol must've gone straight to your head; you haven't eaten anything, like, all day."

I shudder, but not from the vomiting. I cringe at the sound of Andy's soothing voice and soft touch.

No, I don't want this right now. I don't want this ever.

I throw up a couple more mouthfuls, suddenly feeling so much better and less lightheaded. I can think a little better now, but I still don't trust myself.

I wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, flush, and start towards the armchair, picking up my scattered clothing as I stumble to the chair.

I slip into my jeans and throw on my t-shirt. I chuck my cardigan and hat into my bag, along with the bottle of half drunken whiskey off the side table.

Andy's eyes are on me the entire time, his form leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom, watching me intently.

I feel bad and not at the same time. Hopefully Andy will also realize that this was a huge mistake and that we never should've even let it get this far.

His gaze still locked on me, I put on my shoes and walk out of the room without a word or second glance.

'Fuck, Patrick, fuck,' is all I can think as I go down the elevator and then the long hallway to my own room.

I'm nowhere close to sobriety, but most of the alcohol has left my body. A familiar throbbing starts in my head and I know I really should get something to eat. I can see a little clearer, process things a little better, but still can barely understand what just happened.

I fumble with the key card, which I found in a pocket of my backpack, and finally manage to open the door.

And when I do, I'm taken aback by the scene before me.

"P-Pete?" I stutter, dumbfounded, shocked and frozen in place.

A/N

so i hope you've enjoyed this short chapter!

to everyone that's stuck around this long, thank you. i love you all. thanks for all of your support and i really hope you've had as much fun as me so far. all of these reads, votes, and comments mean the world to me, so i'm so glad you've liked it so far. can't wait until you read chapter 17! ☺

so until next time,

xxx