That Blue Gibson: Another Round

six

"It looks like I'm kidnapping you."

Liz giggled a little and zoomed in on the picture of two of them leaving the Whisky the night before. She was cradled in his arms with a drink in her hand and her head against his shoulder, both of them looking as if they had drunk the entire liquor stock on the Sunset Strip. "No, I just look hammered. The drink in my hand really drives it home."

They were huddled under a pile of blankets in their huge bed while scrolling through the gossip site's versions of the night before and although Dave was incredibly hungover, there was nowhere else he wanted to be.  

After their little tryst in the dressing room, they had snuck past a distracted Taylor to hide out on the VIP balcony, spending the rest of the night no further than a foot apart. Liz had been her usual captivating self, enchanting even his most ardent Hollywood-hating friends when they came by to wish him a happy birthday. He had been laughing with Josh about something when Liz's hand slipped into his under the table and Taylor lurked by in an effort to get her attention without Dave noticing. But Liz had kept her focus on her new friend Dave Catching and all Taylor was left with was a silent scowl from his front man. They didn't acknowledge each other the rest of the night, but Dave could feel Taylor's eyes on him from across the room and knew Liz did, too.

It had been close to four in the morning when Liz finally fell asleep on Josh's shoulder and was carried out to the waiting car by Dave, but not before she asked for a soda with lime to make the photographers out front believe she had indulged a bit too much at her husband's birthday party. The paps had been predictably rude, yelling out lewd suggestions regarding his 'unconscious' wife and he was just drunk enough to engage, throwing back that women were far more fun when they were awake. She had discreetly giggled against his shoulder, letting him set her in the far back seat of the SUV with her head in his lap and then proceeded to work him into a shaking, panting mess during the ride home with just her hand over the frustrating thickness of his jeans. 

So far, despite his pounding head and mild nausea, fifty wasn't looking as bad as he had anticipated. 

His phone rang from the nightstand for the fifth time that morning and Liz nudged him a little with her elbow. "You better answer it or else he'll just come over."

"Don't wanna," he mumbled, snuggling further into her side and nuzzling her neck.

She chucked her own phone aside and rolled to face him, pressing her lips against his until he was on his back with her above him, marking the third time that morning she had pinned him to the sheets.

"What is with you?" he grinned. "It's not even my birthday anymore."

"I'm into older men, remember?" she let her smile fade when his hands directed her hips down onto him, tipping her head back with a sigh. 

He watched her for a bit, committing every bit of her to memory. The way her eyes fluttered closed and how her bottom lip would catch between her teeth, the way she'd shudder and sigh when he'd tell her how beautiful she looked and the way her hands would always search for his near the end, holding him tightly as her muscles drew taut. He sat up to kiss her and run his fingers through her dark red hair, still a mess of last night's curls and practically glowing in the morning sun. 

No, fifty was looking even better than forty. Maybe even thirty. 

Things were just starting to get intense when they heard their front door slam shut followed by fast footsteps coming up the hardwood stairs. Liz gasped as Dave grabbed the sheet to cover her, then yanked her down into the blankets just as their bedroom door flung open and Taylor stormed in. 

"What the fuck, dude!" Dave yelled and sat up, quickly looking back to make sure he hadn't exposed any of Liz in the process. 

"Where is she?" Taylor demanded, storming across the room to look in their closets and bathroom.