So desperate

Daniel took the cup and sniffed. "Damn! What did you put in here? It smells like cat piss." He gagged and handed the drink back. Jake laughed. "A little of this, a little of that. You know." I shook my head at the inebriated idiots.

"You want anything?" Daniel asked as we headed down the hallway toward the garage.

"Yeah, I'll grab a beer. But I'm DD tonight, so I can't drink much." We fol- lowed the wave of voices that drifted from the end of the hallway. This was obvi- ously the way to the keg.

People crowded around the entrance to the garage. Daniel grabbed my hand and tugged me through the door. "You have got to be kidding me," Daniel muttered in apparent amusement. He had stopped just short of the keg and I ran into his back. "Danny! What are you doing?" I called out. in front of him. I moved around Daniel and was stunned to see Clay being held upside

"Get a load of your good buddy Clayton Reed." Daniel said, pointing down by two football players, with his mouth underneath the keg tap.

It was then that I noticed the people circling him, chanting, "Go, go, go!" Rachel was jumping up and down, clapping her hands and cheering louder than anyone.

"What the hell?" I asked, not as amused as Danny had been. "We have to stop him, Daniel!" I pulled on his arm.

Daniel looked at me questioningly. "Why? It's not like you haven't done a few keg stands in your time, Miss Judgmental. Let the boy have some fun-he could use some loosening up." I groaned. "You don't get it, Danny. Clay has a... uh... history with drinking and it's not a good one. This will end badly." I was becoming panicked as the keg stand seemed to never end. Daniel looked at me, frowning.

"If you say so. I think you might be overreacting. But whatever. You take care of Clay, I'll get Rachel." I smiled in relief, appreciating his help.

Daniel and I parted ways. He headed over to Rachel, who tried to push away from him as he put his arm around her shoulder and started leading her out of the garage. Daniel firmly held her by her upper arms and herded her outside. I turned toward Clay, who was just now being put back on his feet. He stumbled, and one of the football guys put out a hand to steady him. "You all right, man?" he asked, laughing at my friend's drunken state. Clayton gave him a thumbs-up. "I'm fantastic," he slurred. Good God, this was going to be just super.

Before I could get to Clay, Melissa, the hostess extraordinaire, rushed to his side and plastered herself against him like a second skin. "That was amazing, Clay," she cooed in his ear. Oh, gag. I grabbed hold of Clay's arm and squeezed.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked quietly in his ear. Clayton looked over at me, only now realizing that I was standing there.

He grinned at me and pulled me into a hug. Melissa looked miffed that she had been discarded. "Mags. I'm so happy you're here! Did you see that? That was epic!" he said, ridiculously pleased with himself. I pulled on him and we moved toward the door.

"Yeah, I saw you. I thought you said you didn't want to be doing that stuff," I replied, looking at him with concern.

A dark look crossed Clay's face and he yanked his arm from my grasp. "What are you? The party police? I'm having fun. I thought that's what you wanted. For me to meet people and, you know, socialize." I didn't say anything. Clearly, Clayton was not a friendly drunk.

"I did want that, but you were the one who said you had a history with this stuff. That drinking isn't good for you." I tried to grab his hand again.

Maybe if I could get him out of the garage I could get him to see reason. Well, that was wishful thinking. Clayton Reed was way past reason and had dipped precariously into Crazyland. He pushed my hand away. "Back off, Mag. gie! I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing. I did just fine before you came along to mother me."

My mouth fell open to reply, but then I closed it. I wouldn't be this guy's punching bag. Drunk or not. Love of my life or not. I didn't put up with that kind of shit from anyone. So I shoved him in the center of his chest, making him stumble backward a few steps.

"Well, pardon me for giving a crap about you. I was just worried. But if you want to act like a drunken asshole, that's fine! I just won't be around to watch it!" I slammed out the door and into the cool night air.

I pressed my back into the cold metal of the garage door, trying to calm my breathing. That went well. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the pave- ment. I leaned my forehead against my knees, wrapping my arms around my legs.

The door opened beside me and I lifted my head to see Clay step outside. He looked around and then noticed me sitting on the cold pavement alone in the dark. He sank to the ground beside me, keeping a cautious distance between us. I didn't say anything. I had nothing to say. "I'm sorry. That was totally uncalled for," Clay said softly. Though his words were slurred, he at least seemed to possess some understanding of how horribly he was behaving. And he appeared genuinely contrite.

"Yeah, you kind of suck right now," I remarked, refusing to look at him.

Clay's fingers touched my chin and he pulled my face around so that I was looking at him.

"Please don't be angry with me. I can't stand that. I need you way too much to have this between us." His words were desperate and I was shocked at what he had just said.

He needed me? Since when? And, while my heart thrilled, something inside me hesitated, unsure of how to respond. His fingers slipped into my hair and he started to pull me toward him. More specifically, my mouth toward his. Before our lips touched I stopped him. I put my hands over his to still the movement. "What is this, Clay? What are you doing?" I murmured, the skin of our lips brushing against each other.

Clay gazed into my eyes and a pool of warmth flooded my belly. Why was I talking? Why didn't I just let him kiss me? How long had I wanted this, and I was making him stop? Was I freaking nuts?

But it just didn't feel right to have him do this when he was drunk. I wanted him in his right frame of mind when he kissed me. I didn't want it to be some sloppy event outside of Melissa James's garage. Clay backed up. "I thought you wanted this. You've been sending out signals like crazy." Clay seemed angry. Embarrassed, even. I had taken his guy card...again.