Texting Prince Charming

Interlude Part 7

Song is "Warning Sign" by Coldplay

This chapter is dedicated for fatfaceheart  ~ Go read her story~ The Untold Story. :)

Also many thanks to the Wing Awards for awarding Mirror Mirror first place for Teen Fiction!!! 

Also....PREWARNING~~~~ Some of you will be hating on Mr. Birch a little so... Just give him some love ~ He's been through a lot!!!

Against my far better yet extremely intoxicated judgment, I didn't push Lindsay away.

"Mmm," she sighed against my lips. Kissing was one way to ensure she didn't talk. A public service of sorts. Even if I was the only one to benefit.

I didn't resist when she led me into the cab of my truck. I wasn't in the mood to fight or think or rationalize all the finer points of why this, right here, shouldn't have been happening.

The list was infinite if I had the time. But the only thing I wanted at this very moment was to avoid any use of my brain whatsoever.

Lindsay's mouth found mine in the near dark confines of the vehicle. Her tongue mingled with mine, and I held back the urge to stop this. It was wrong. Shit, it felt wrong. The bile rising in the back of my throat was proof. But none of that mattered now.

Maybe this would make me forget? If only for a little while since that damn beer wasn't doing the trick.

Like I'd planned.

It didn't even bother me as hands slipped from behind my neck and settled underneath my shirt. Greedy fingers splayed themselves over my biceps, triceps, and chest and roamed down the sides. I imagined it wasn't her. It was far easier that way. Well, that was until Lindsay bit my lower lip and brought me to my senses.

She pulled away, pushing me back by the shoulders till I sat against the driver's side door. Her half-lidded brown gaze stayed on my face as she ridded herself of her sweatshirt. It took her grabbing my hands for the assist with taking off her black bra that I conceded this was happening. Here. With her. With Lindsay Matthews. Something pinched in the pit of my stomach. And the more I tried to force it, the more the pain intensified.

My hands fumbled at her chest. I'd ran through this play plenty of times before and I was an expert. A pro. Drunk or not, this was something else.

Lindsay moved closer and straddled me. Once she leaned in and nuzzled against my neck, I caught sight of myself in one of Bert's oversized side mirrors.

A curtain of her long brown hair came into view as she nibbled my ear. Her lips. Her mouth. Her hands. Her naked upper body flush against mine. Everything was wrong. All of this was wrong.

What the hell was I doing?

The phone in my short's pocket vibrated, bringing everything to a standstill.

"Ignore it. It's probably only Katlyn," Lindsay whispered before her mouth crashed into mine again.

I groaned.

Katlyn—my for the time being girlfriend and Lindsay's supposed, but you couldn't tell by the looks of it right now, best friend.

I jerked my head to the side. "What if it is Katlyn?" My words, slow and unsteady, were barely comprehensible. Regardless, here was an easy out presenting itself, even though it wasn't valid reason whatsoever. I didn't give a shit about Katlyn, not really. I just had to work out the logistics of how to call things off—correctly. But this, right here, was not it.

Going this route to break up with a girl backfired in my face once before. With Cara. And it cost me one of my closest friends by way of Dylan. Even though Katlyn didn't matter to me in the least, I didn't want to be known continually as "that guy."