Thursday, August 4, 2011

209. Late-Night Satisfaction

By the time we got back to my place, the thermostat read 88 degrees. As more people came over, the more it felt like 188 degrees. We pulled floor fans in from our bedrooms and set them up around the living room. They blew warm air across our sweaty faces. Holding cold beer bottles against our cheeks and necks brought little relief. Drinking cold beer brought a little more.

I wanted to cuddle up against Cayden because that's what I missed so much when he was gone, but I could barely touch him. His body temperature tends to be a steady 108-degrees or so it seems. Kind of like Jacob on Twilight. And yes, I just made a Twilight reference.

"What do you say we move this shindig to the bar where they have beer AND air conditioning!" I asked. Everyone jumped up and chugged their beers in response. It wasn't until everyone was standing that I realized how many people were there. What started as a few couples having a few beers ending up being a few couples, my brother and a friend of his, my sister and a friend of hers, her boyfriend and a friend of his, a friend of someone's friend's friend. You get the picture. No wonder we were sweating balls in there.

We crammed into as few cars as possible to cut down on the number of sober drivers we'd need later. We'd decided on a sports bar called The Back 9 because it was practically within walking distance to my house (not that any of us were planning on walking) and because last time we went there the waitresses didn't mind that we'd taken over the back room and more than a few shot glasses to play a hardcore game of Quarters. By the end of the night, I think we'd lost $5 in quarters and chipped three glasses.

I enjoyed cramming in the car next to Cayden. The car's AC balanced out his unbearable body heat. I leaned against his shoulder and allowed a smile to stretch across my face until the back of my ears hurt. I'd had enough beers at my place to make my lips tingle, which also just so happens to be enough beers to make me forget about my bare, burning lady parts and send my hormones into overdrive. If we'd been alone in the back seat, I would have let my hands wander across his lap.

"Which way?" my brother asked from the driver's seat, snapping me out of my sexual thoughts and bringing my hormone rage to a screeching halt.

I looked around.

"Uh... right?"

I'd lived in Addison for seven months and I still didn't know my way around.

"No... left!"

Two minutes later we pulled into the parking lot next to the other three cars in our group and piled out. Cayden kept his hand on my lower back as we walked into the bar and I kept my hormones in check. It was so nice to be a couple again.

We pushed four big tables together in the back room to create one huge square table, which sounded like a good idea until we were all so far away from each other that we had to yell across the table to be heard.

Joey gave me a knowing look from his corner of the table, a few chairs down from me.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

"You better believe I am."

"Quarters!!" we both screamed in unison.

We talked our waitress into bringing us four empty cups so we could start one at each corner of our huge table. Everyone dug in their pockets for spare change. Another one of Meg's friends, Alli, and her boyfriend showed up and we added more chairs. Some friends from my kickball team showed up. More chairs.

Our quarters game was full blown by the time Kayle (@MmeKayBee) and her quasi long-distance boyfriend got there. We'd successfully taken over the back room once again, and we'd only chipped one glass. Skills.

An hour later, the waitress came by and took our glasses because they were "running low." Buzzkill. Our huge crowd broke into groups, which cut down on the across-the-table screaming. We drank and laughed as Cayden and I jumped from group to group, sometimes together, sometimes separate. When we were in different groups, we'd catch each other eye, and give that "oh-you-are-so-getting-laid-tonight" look, which sent chills down my back.

"What do you say we get out of here?" I whispered to Cayden after one such glance.

"Let's go," he answered, grabbing my hand and giving me a devilish look.

I found my brother on the patio with one of our groups.

"Hey, brotherrrr," I said in a tone not unlike Buster in Arrested Development.

"Need a ride?" he asked.

We nodded.

"Under one condition," he said, leaning against the railing. "We must stop for Whataburger honey butter chicken biscuits first."

"Sold," Cayden and I said in unison.

Back at my house, in the 90+ degree heat, we made sounds we'd never made before.

"Holy shit."
"I don't want it to end."
"Come to mamma."
"Fuck. Yes."

It was the best honey butter chicken biscuits we'd ever had. And when we were done, we stripped off our clothes and flung ourselves down on my bed. We were asleep in minutes.

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