One Wild Night Page 6

  I sighed and nodded. It looked like it was option two we were going for. “Fine. Let’s go dance to stop George whining,” I suggested, nodding over my shoulder at him.

  We headed to a club then. When we were all in and had found a table, we started another drinking competition. This one was word related and quicker than the prank calling we’d done earlier.

  “Right then, so I’ll start by saying the name of an animal. The next person has to say an animal starting with the last letter of mine. So, for example, I say cat, the next person would have to think of an animal beginning with T. Got it?” I asked, looking at George hopefully.

  He nodded, and my dad sat forward in his seat and frowned. “Okay, so you say cat, and I say T?” he asked, looking confused.

  Everyone burst out laughing and I shook my head. “Just watch the first few people and you’ll pick it up as we go along. All right?” I suggested, winking at him. I turned to Ashton, who was sitting next to me. “Rhino,” I started the game.

  “Octopus,” he replied instantly. We were both pros at all drinking games.

  “Siberian Tiger,” Brad said proudly.

  Russell chewed on his lip for a second before he answered. “Red Panda?”

  George winced and looked around for help. “Alligator!” he chirped finally.

  Everyone turned to my dad, looking at him expectantly. “T,” he said, shrugging and looking seriously confused.

  I choked on my laughter and pushed a shot in his direction. “Better luck next time, old timer,” I teased.

  He frowned. “But you said I had to say T!” he protested, shaking his head fiercely.

  Ashton laughed and grabbed his empty bottle of beer. “Let’s just spin an empty bottle and do it that way. It’s just luck of the draw then,” he suggested.

  My dad looked at him questionably. “So we’ve moved onto kissing games now? I like you guys and stuff, but I don’t think I’m up for that kind of thing.” Everyone burst out laughing at him. If it wasn’t for the fact I looked exactly like him, I would be seriously worried that my mom had an affair and I was fathered by someone else.

  We played until I started to feel sick. Some of the boys had fanned out and were dancing with a few girls. George, Rick and Russell had been dragged off by a group of girls who thought they were the cutest things ever in their outfits. George was currently laughing and dancing like a wildman as he grinned like a moron. I’d never seen dancing make anyone so happy; maybe he missed his calling in life or something.

  I had no idea how long we’d been in the club. I was starting to lose all sense of time completely. There were no windows; for all I knew it could be light outside already. I’d never had so much fun on a boys’ night out, ever. I would remember this night forever; I wouldn’t class it as my last night of freedom, though, because being married to Rosie was going to be incredible, and it wasn’t something I was trapped into. I couldn’t wait to marry that hot little brunette. The drink was making me a little sentimental as I gushed to Ashton about Rosie and what an awesome friend he was for marrying Anna, because if he hadn’t gotten with her then I might never had met Anna’s best friend.

  George tore himself away from the group of girls he was dancing with then and staggered over to our table. He smiled lopsidedly at me, and Ashton immediately excused himself to go and dance with Rick and Russell.

  George plopped down into the empty seat next to me. “You know that I like you, right?” he slurred, gripping my shoulder and leaning in with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

  I nodded in confirmation, trying not to let him push me off my chair while we were sitting there. “I know that, George,” I replied.

  He smiled and pulled me closer, slinging his arm around my shoulders. “You’re a good man, Nate. I’m glad you want to marry my daughter because she’s incredible and needs someone like you to love her and look after her,” he cooed. I laughed as he hiccupped in the middle of his sentence. “She’s always been my little girl and when I saw her hurt by that asshole whose name will never leave my lips again, I just didn’t know what to do. I’ve never wanted to maim anyone so much in my life. When someone hurts your little girl, it’s like they hurt you. You know what I’m saying here?” he asked, looking at me seriously.

  I frowned and nodded. “I think you’re trying to threaten me in a nice and polite way,” I answered.

  He burst out laughing and patted my cheek. “I’m not threatening you! I love you! You’re like the son I never wanted,” he joked, laughing so hard at his own joke that he clutched his side and gasped for breath.

  “George, I just can’t take you seriously in this pimp outfit,” I stated, laughing as his purple hat fell off and rolled towards the dance floor.

  He grinned happily and pointed towards the dancing crowd. “I’m dancing again! You coming?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nah, it just looks like it because of the way I’m sitting,” I joked.

  He looked at me like I had lost the plot then understanding crossed his face as he burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Looks like… the way I’m sitting…” he laughed. “You’re such a cocky little shit, you really are.” He gripped my hand and pulled me to my feet with surprising strength for a man that could barely stand himself. “Don’t let your soon-to-be father-in-law make an idiot of himself on his own!” he stated, tugging me towards the dance floor.

  I groaned and followed him, dancing and wishing I was back at the table. Especially when he started doing the ‘Electric Slide’ and the John Travolta pointing thing. When he busted out the running man, I couldn’t resist joining in, making him laugh, too, as we started taking it in turns to try and outdo the other. Ashton came over, as I knew he would, throwing down his speciality, which always looked like a cross between the robot and a guy who had just shit his pants. George gave him a ‘what the hell’ look then flicked his eyes to me, and we both burst out laughing.

  “What?” Ashton asked, looking confused as to what we were laughing at. George shook his head, pulling me into a tight hug.

  I flinched. Oh, God, please don’t tell me that he gets flirty like his daughter does when he’s drunk! I patted his back awkwardly. He pulled back and cupped my face in his hands. “You are a good, good man. I’m happy to have you in my family. If I have to give my daughter to someone, then I couldn’t have picked anyone better than you,” he said, his voice breaking through emotion as he put his forehead against mine, sniffing loudly.

  I laughed nervously and flicked my eyes to Ashton for help, but he was now standing off to one side trying to teach my dad how to do the ‘I’ve shit myself robot’, too. “Thanks, George. I’m happy to be part of the family,” I replied, hoping he wasn’t going to burst into tears.

  He sniffed again and pulled back, his eyes looked slightly unfocused as he smiled at me. He bent forward and kissed my forehead before turning back to my dad and pointing at him. “And, you, Evan Peters! I love you, too! If you hadn’t made this guy then I wouldn’t be able to call him my son, too,” he chirped, grabbing my dad into a hug, slapping his back.

  My dad flicked his eyes to me as George clung to him. “What the hell?” he mouthed to me over George’s shoulder. I just laughed and shrugged. Rather him than me!

  ‘Moves like Jagger’ by Maroon 5 started, and George laughed, pulling back from my dad. “I love this song!” he chirped, putting his hands behind his back and pouting like Mick Jagger as he did some kind of chicken dance. I winced as my dad grinned and started dancing, too. “That’s not Mick Jagger!” George cried, shaking his head as Ashton tried to do the leg flick thing. “That’s more Michael Jackson; it’s like this.” He then demonstrated exactly why you shouldn’t try to dance like Jagger while wearing tight, purple pimp pants. They ripped at the ass, exposing his red boxers he was wearing underneath. We all burst out laughing, and he just carried on as if he hadn’t even noticed.

  When it really went wrong for him was when he started the stripping. Stripping was never a good
idea in the middle of a packed club, especially while wearing a velvet suit, ripped at the ass, and a chunky gold necklace that said ‘Daddy Cool’ on it. He gripped his shirt and made a loud growling sound as he ripped it open in an awesome impression of Hulk Hogan. I closed my eyes as he started encouraging my dad to do the same thing.

  Oh, God, kill me now! But I couldn’t help but laugh at the same time. I was marrying into a seriously crazy family. Suddenly, I heard collective gasps, groans, and gags. “No! That’s gross!” Seth cried. I snapped my eyes open to see George leaning over with his hands on his knees. A huge pile of vomit now sat on the middle of the dance floor.

  Ashton slapped my shoulder and shook his head. “Your family, you deal with it,” he said, turning and walking off quickly. I frowned and wanted to walk away, too, but I guess in situations like this it was now up to me to deal with it. Ashton got off damn lucky with his father-in-law in that respect; I really couldn’t imagine President Spencer throwing up on his own shoes…

  I patted George’s back as he threw up again. The crowd parted and people stared at us as he emptied the alcohol out of his stomach. Rosie was going to seriously kill me if her dad was still sick at the wedding tomorrow. Damn it, I was in trouble. But I couldn’t help but laugh as I rubbed his back while he hurled and heaved. No doubt, this looked awesome to an outsider: a pimp throwing up on the dance floor with Zorro rubbing his back. This is the stuff dreams are made of.

  When he finally seemed to be empty, he stood up and looked at me apologetically while rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. “I got sick,” he groaned.

  I laughed harder. “No shit, Sherlock,” I replied, shaking my head at him. “Let’s get you some coffee from the bar,” I suggested, wrapping my arm around his waist.

  He smiled at me gratefully. “You’re awesome,” he croaked.

  I winced from the smell of his breath and waved my free hand near my face, trying to get rid of the smell. “Dude, there is nothing awesome about your breath!” I whined as he carried on telling me how great I was and how happy he was that I was marrying his daughter and taking on his grandson. I pulled a stool up and pushed him down onto it, waving my hand for the barman to come over, but he was busy serving down the other end. I took the opportunity to button up George’s shirt for him.

  Something patted me on the shoulder. “We need to leave,” Ashton hissed in my ear.

  I frowned. “I was just gonna get Puking Percy here some coffee,” I countered, turning to face him, keeping one hand on George’s shoulder to keep him upright.

  Ashton shook his head fiercely and nodded over his shoulder. I looked back and what he was motioning at. There were loads of security around, one of them guarding the pile of sick, the others fanning out, obviously looking for the perpetrators. We wouldn’t be that hard to find in our choice of attire for tonight!

  I nodded in agreement. I didn’t want trouble, and it looked like they were going to kick us out anyway. It was always better to walk out on your own two feet than be bustled out by security. I slung my arm around George’s waist, pulling his arm around my shoulders as I lifted him to his feet. “Time to go,” I muttered.

  He frowned. “Are we going to another bar?” he asked, staggering on his feet. Most of the guys had already left and were probably waiting outside for us.

  My dad met us at the door, laughing as he looked at George. “You’re a lightweight, York!” he chirped, pushing the purple hat back on my father-in-law’s head. “Now that your stomach is empty, you can fill it again!” he added, holding out half of a glass of beer to him.

  George laughed, and before I could protest, he knocked the drink back in one before holding the glass above his head and shouting, “Booya!”

  By the time we got downstairs, the sun was already up. The guys were all joking around in the street, laughing and jumping on each other. Seth was strutting around with a traffic cone on his head singing ‘Ding dong, the witch is dead’.

  The minibus was still parked where we left it hours before. George literally passed out as soon as we sat him in the seat. My dad plopped next to him and grinned. “I guess we’re too old to keep up with you guys,” he mumbled. Suddenly he laughed wickedly as he turned back to a passed-out George. “Who’s got a pen?”

  I groaned and shook my head. “Don’t draw anywhere that’s going to show up in the wedding photos tomorrow,” I protested as Brad started fumbling in the black duffle bags that they’d brought with them. Those things seemed bottomless; they just kept on producing more and more wicked things from there as the night went on. Brad made a triumphant “Ta-da!” as he pulled out a pack of magic markers. My dad grinned and started unbuttoning George’s shirt with an excited smile on his face.

  I laughed and grabbed the black pen, drawing a very crude drawing of a penis and a face that conveniently had the open mouth where his belly button was. I smiled at it proudly as Ashton giggled and slapped me a high-five.

  By the time the boys were done with him, he was more marker pen than skin. I felt sorry for him, but at least there was nothing on his face or neck, so when he was walking Rosie down the aisle tomorrow, no one would know.

  My eyes felt heavy from the drink and the lack of sleep. I had no idea what time it was but the sun was up already. I sat forward in my seat and rubbed at my eyes. There was no way I was falling asleep and getting drawn on by these punks!

  People were calming down now, settling back into their seats, and it was clear the night was finally over. I breathed a sigh of relief that I had gotten to keep my hair – well, the stuff on my head, anyway. I was also secretly glad it wasn’t me who got a ‘no entry’ tattoo on my ass, because that would have been hard to explain to the little missus on our honeymoon.

  “Are we done now?” the driver called over his shoulder. “I was only booked until six o’clock, so am I dropping you guys off at another bar or taking people home now?”

  I smiled gratefully that he seemed to have suggested exactly what was on my mind. “Home now, thanks,” I called before anyone could suggest one more drink somewhere else. The driver nodded and turned to start dropping people off.

  Because we dropped everyone else off first, it took almost forty minutes before we pulled up at Ashton’s apartment. My dad, George, me, Ashton and Seth were all sleeping at Ashton’s, so we drunkenly staggered up the aisle of the minibus. My dad and Seth both had an arm around George’s waist as they headed off the minibus, supporting most of his weight because he was still slightly out of it and was barely able to keep his eyes open. I was about ready to pass out myself.

  “Bye, and thanks for driving us. You rock, Mr Driver Man!” I chirped, staggering over to give him a hug, spilling some of my beer down his back.

  He frowned and nodded, laughing uncomfortably. “Sure. And good luck with the marriage. I was married once. Didn’t work out too well,” he replied, shrugging.

  “Maybe your wife wasn’t as hot as mine is?” I suggested. Then I immediately realised what I’d said. I’d just insulted this guy’s ex-wife. Wow, I need to stop drinking. I slapped my forehead, which made my ears ring as I shook my head apologetically. “That was wrong. Bad, bad Nate. Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that out loud. Not that it probably isn’t true because my wife is a hottie, but yeah, I shouldn’t have insinuated your ex wasn’t attractive,” I rambled before slapping my forehead again. I need to shut the hell up! I looked over at Ashton pleadingly, hoping he’d punch me just to stop me talking.

  He smiled and threw his arm around my neck, pulling me towards the door of the bus. “Thanks for driving us around. Excuse my best friend, he gets verbal diarrhoea when he drinks,” Ashton stated, laughing wickedly.

  I rolled my eyes, and we both crashed into the side of the bus as we tried to climb out together and there wasn’t enough room for two to get out of the door. We both snickered, and he shoved me through first, making me stumble and run to catch up with my feet.

  I laughed as he practically jumped on my back, his arm way
too tight around my neck to be comfortable as he rubbed his hand in my hair, knowing that I hated that. “Can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow,” he chirped. “Well, actually it’s today now!”

  I grinned and imagined turning up at the church in a few hours, seeing my little boy walking down the aisle carrying the rings, then seeing the love of my life in what was sure to be a hot wedding dress. The damn thing had better be hot with the amount we’re spending on it!

  I burst into song, singing ‘I’m getting married in the morning, ding dong the bells are gonna shine,’ at the top of my lungs, which gained us a few weird looks from the few people stupid enough to be out at this time of the morning. Ashton laughed and shook his head, “It’s ‘ding dong the bells are gonna chime’, you dumbass. Not shine! Why would you be singing about bells shining?” he asked, looking at me like I was stupid.

  I frowned. “Really?”

  He nodded in confirmation as we both immediately raced for the elevator, practically pushing Seth, my dad and George out of the way as we both jumped in and jabbed the button for his floor at the same time. When the other three went to step in with us, we laughed and pushed them back out, Ashton hitting his fist on the close doors button so they would have to take the stairs.

  “No. You assholes. Open the doors! I’m not carrying his heavy ass up thirty-odd flights of stairs!” Seth cried as he practically dropped George and glared at us.

  Ashton and I both waved teasingly as the last few inches closed. “Last one to the apartment sucks balls!” I called, winking at Seth jokingly.

  Ashton and I both burst out laughing as Seth started banging on the doors to the elevator, dramatically shouting for us to come back. I rubbed my stomach as it growled loudly; I was actually starving hungry now. When was the last time I ate? It had to be lunchtime yesterday. No wonder my vision was swimming.

  “You gonna make food?” I asked, looking at him hopefully. At this point, I was past caring that Ashton had to be the worst cook in the world; I would eat anything before my stomach started eating itself.

  He nodded and shrugged. “Sure.” I followed him down the hallway, both of us knocking on doors as we ran past, knowing that, by the time the occupants got to open it, the other three guys would probably be walking past and would get in trouble. Ashton and I were like little kids when we got together sometimes.

  We were both snickering and shushing each other by the time we got to his apartment door. He let us in, and we both headed straight for the kitchen, trying to be quiet because Anna would probably be sleeping. Cameron, their baby, was with their in-laws, though, so at least we wouldn’t have to worry about waking him up.

  As I rummaged through their freezer, I found chicken nuggets, onion rings, and a couple of frozen microwave meals. I threw them all in the oven and microwaved the meals, standing there with my stomach growling, just waiting to eat already. While I was doing