Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (42)

“I can't believe when you got me drunk, you got me arrested,” groaned Keely, plopping down on the hard bench. “I mean, it could have been at least a fun drunk time.”

“The guy deserved it,” muttered Seth, sitting beside her so their sides were touching.

Giving a snort that sounded rather oddly high for her, Keely slumped back, kicking off her sneakers as she looked across to the cell beside them where the man was drooling, passed out on the the bench. It was only with great focus that she managed to keep her mind steady on the conversation, resisting the urge to start giggling for no reason.

“For what?!” she exclaimed.

He shrugged, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the brick wall, mumbling, “He hurt you.”

“I can handle myself,” Keely pointed out.

But before the conversation could go farther, John pushed a rubber ice cream bucket towards her.

“Don't puke in holding.”

For a moment she just blinked at him in confusion, but when Seth startled laughing beside her and leaned his head into his hands a smile crossed her face.

Figuring it was for the best, she really didn't want to sit in a jail cell if there was puke in it as well, she shoved herself up from the bench. But she couldn't help the loud giggle that escaped her lips when she found her legs uncooperative with walking in a straight line to the bucket.

An hour, probably longer, later found them still sitting on the bench, but at least their intoxicated minds so far hadn't allowed for them to become bored. They still hadn't gotten their one phone call yet, because they needed to be booked first, whatever that meant. It might as well have been gibberish to her.

Keely was sitting on the metal bench, her legs cross legged in front of her, facing Seth with her – thankfully empty – bucket huddled between her legs. Seth was also facing her, although he had opted to straddled the bench instead where he sat close to her.

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands flat in front of her as if on a table.

Arching an eyebrow at her Seth followed her movement, although turning his palms upwards to face her. But he surprised her by closing in the distance between their hands with the lightest of touch, causing Keely to rip her hands away from him, but hastily reaching out to snatch at his wrists before she could topple off the bench with the movement. She'd hit that concrete floor more than she cared to admit.

“Hey!” she complained, letting go of his wrists when she steadied herself and shoved him lightly in the chest, pulling her hand away before it could linger on the warmth radiating through his sweater. “That's not fair,” she continued, holding her hands out again, “Again.”

Still smirking slightly, Seth copied her movement, placing his hands beneath hers, palm upwards again.

“Okay... go!” she yelped, snatching her hands back towards her, but once again she wasn't fast enough as his hands swung around to smack hers lightly.

It was either she was terrible at that game or her reaction times had slowed.

“Again,” Keely ordered determinedly, holding her hands out again.

“Hey, Seth, do you want your phone call?” called an unfamiliar voice.

“Hold that thought,” he told her, shoving up off the bench.

Puffing out her cheeks, Keely swung around on her hard metal perch so she could lean her back against the wall more comfortably, watching Seth as he moved forward to the bars to get the phone handed to him. Thoughtfully she let her eyes drift down from the perfect width of his shoulders and downwards, but after a moment she shook herself from her gaze. Even the drunk version of herself shouldn't be doing that.