Whoopsie Daisy Page 3

  He stands there smiling happily as I talk, chuckling once I end my questioning. “Well, aren’t you full of questions... and alcohol. Don’t worry, buttercup, my drink is right here.” He raises his cup towards me before taking a drink.

  “Hmmm, okay. That’s better,” I say and continue my interrogation. “Who are you? Do you live here? Are you having fun?”

  “Wow. What is this? Twenty questions?” He chuckles.

  Big mistake on his part.

  “Yes! Great idea! Let’s play a drinking game!” I screech excitedly. “Truth or Dare. I have a special birthday rule; if you pick truth, then you have to take a drink before you answer the question.”

  Again, he laughs instead of running away and saving himself from me.

  “You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you?” He smiles and pauses for a moment, his eyes not leaving mine. “Okay, let’s go with truth.”

  “What is your name?”

  He takes a drink. “Kace.”

  “Kacey, Kace, Kace,” I sing-song while wiggling my hips. “I like it. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Where do you live?” I ask while tapping my finger on my lower lip.

  He takes a drink. “Here.”

  “Well, aren’t you full of information?” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes and putting my hands on my hips.

  “Hey, was that another question? Because I didn’t pick truth or dare yet,” he quips as he leans towards me. He has a look in his eye like he is flirting, but maybe that is just wishful thinking on my part.

  “Meh,” I reply after taking a drink.

  “So, are we just going to take a drink every time we answer a question now?” His eyes sparkle with amusement.

  I take a drink before replying. “Yes. It’s my birthday. Gotta get our drink on!”

  He looks at me thoughtfully for a second. “How old are you?”

  I take a drink then reply, “I am sexy years old.”

  Cringe.

  Thankfully, he seems to enjoy my horrible attempts at picking him up. This night is chock-full of some of my proudest moments as an adult.

  “Oh, and how many years is that?” He plays along without hesitation.

  I take another drink, followed by a deep inhale and slow exhale as my body cautions me to slow down on the alcohol intake.

  “How many years do you want it to be?” I ask while biting my lower lip. I continue speaking before he responds, “Did you know that you’re hot? So hot, want to touch the hiney.”

  Why is no one stopping me? I’m a total train wreck and should have called it a night at least two drinks ago.

  “Did you just quote the movie Billy Madison?” He chuckles.

  “Yes, yes I did.” I shrug. “It’s a thing I do. You got a problem with that, sir?” I stare calculatingly at him while crossing my arms over my chest.

  “No. No problem at all,” he says while chuckling and raising his hands in defense. “So, I think we should switch to dares before you drink too much and pass out.”

  I nod in agreement. “You’re smart. And hot. Did you know that you’re hot?”

  “Well, I may have heard that somewhere.” He winks at me and I blush as my mind pushes images of him doing naughty things to my body.

  I clear my throat. “Okay, big boy, give me a dare,” I say before correcting myself. “No, I meant to say, I dare you to... hmmm. I dare you to drink because you don’t look drunk enough.”

  He nods and takes a drink. “Yes, ma’am. But I assure you, I’m feeling pretty good at the moment.”

  “Good. Because it’s my birthday. Now, I dare you to dance with me.”

  As if eagerly awaiting this moment, he replies without hesitation, “You don’t have to dare me twice.”

  We move closer to each other and he wraps his arms around my waist as I wrap my arms around his neck. We slow dance to our own music and not the fast-paced music playing at the party. As we dance, his hands slowly slide lower and lower. Our faces get closer and closer. I can feel his hard muscles pressing against me. I can also feel him getting excited and all I can say is, wow. Caught up in my fantasies, I begin to wonder where this man has been my whole life.

  He better not have a girlfriend, or so help me I swear this man will never walk again!

  “You’re one unusual critter,” he whispers in my ear, the warmth of his breath making my body tingle. “Beautiful and intriguing, but very unusual.”

  “Life would be boring if we were all usual,” I murmur.

  This man is the most amazing creature I have ever laid my eyes on, let alone my hands. He has awakened an intense sexual desire deep within me. Just as I’m about to stake my claim and pull him into a kiss, a burning sensation moves up from my stomach and into my throat.

  “Uh-oh. I don’t feel so good,” I say as I push away from him. I get a few feet away before it all comes up. Everything I had for dinner is now laying in a messy pile on the sand.

  “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” I say, thoroughly embarrassed. “I don’t know what happened.”

  Without hesitation, he puts his hand on my shoulder and looks into my eyes with concern and asks if I’m okay. He doesn’t even bat an eye at my mess on the sand, his attention is solely on me.

  “Yeah, I’m okay now. That was so gross,” I confess with a look of utter disgust on my face.

  “Uh, firecracker, what colour are your eyes?” His brow furrows with confusion.

  “I’m sure I can’t play Truth or Dare anymore tonight,” I reply, frustrated with the turn of events. “There’s a good chance I won’t be able to miss your feet next time I get sick.”

  “No. That’s not what I’m doing here.” He puts his other hand on my shoulder and turns my body so the moonlight beams directly onto my face. His eyes flick back and forth between mine. “I could swear that you had blue eyes when I first met you. But now one is green and the other is white.”

  “Ummm. Are you pretending to be more drunker than me right now?” I scrunch my face in confusion. “Is drunker even a word? Because you are sounding pretty fucking drunker.” My uncharacteristic use of foul language surprises me and I gasp. “Oh my! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to use that potty-mouth language. I sound like that fucking friend of mine, Bel. Oh no, I did it again. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

  I shake my head. “It must be the alocohol. Alahol? Alcohol? Yeah, that’s it. Al-co-hol.”

  He stands there, patiently listening to yet another one of my drunken ramblings with a smile on his face and an occasional chuckle.

  Suddenly I let out a loud growl causing his hands to drop from my shoulders. We both stare at each other with wide eyes.

  “Holy hell, did I just growl?” I ask, utterly surprised. “Was that my stomach? I don’t feel hungry.” I look down as I rest my hands on my stomach. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kace. I think my body is telling me I need to go to bed.” I stick my lower lip out and pout.

  He chuckles before agreeing. “That is probably a good idea. I’ll walk you back to make sure you get home safe.”

  Be still my beating heart.

  “Thank you, Kace. I really appreciate it!” I squeal while wrapping my arms around his neck and unexpectedly leaping into his arms, almost toppling him over. “Can you carry me home?”

  He laughs and nods. “Looks like I don’t have much choice.”

  “Are you going to go to bed with me?” I ask, my voice full of hope and liquid courage. “I don’t mind if you do.” I dance my fingers across his chest and then tap the end of his nose. “Boop.”

  He laughs, and the moonlight glistens on his teeth. Everything about this man is absolute perfection.

  “Let’s just get you home first,” he replies in a deep, soothing voice. The vibrations against my body lighting a fire in my core.

  I nod and nuzzle my face into the side of his neck as he carries me home. “Okay. Let’s go, right meow.”

  “Did you just say right meow?” he asks, unable to contain
his laughter, the deep rumbles against my body adding fuel the fire within.

  “You bet your sweet ass I did. I can’t help it; you make me purr like a kitten.”

  “Okay, Kitten, let’s get you home then.” He smirks and asks which place is mine as he walks towards the row of cabins.

  I yawn, nearly falling asleep before we get back to my place. Kace carries me to my bedroom after I mumble vaguely coherent directions. He gently sits me down on my bed. Then he offers to go write a note for Bel letting her know I’m safe but that I had too much to drink and went to bed.

  I perk up momentarily and continue my flirtatious ways. “Don’t forget to tell her that a hot man carried me home and I’m safe. And that the hot man is in my bedroom right meow because I’m such a naughty girl.”

  “Ok, I’ll put all of that in the note,” he says jokingly, I think. Suddenly, I hear another growl; this time it’s not coming from me.

  “Did you just growl at me?” I ask while laughing. “Or are you hungry? Oh my god, there are freaking amazing cupcakes in the kitchen! Momma made them for me, and they are better than sex! At least that is what Rebel says. I haven’t...” I stop myself before I can finish my sentence. “Uh… never mind.” A warm sensation intensifying in my cheeks.

  He picks up on my discomfort and thankfully doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. “That sounds amazing. Maybe I’ll sneak a cupcake while I write the note. Thank you, Kitten.”

  Hearing him call me Kitten sends me on another one of my one-sided conversations, which he seems to find thoroughly entertaining.

  “Momma calls me Kitten. She likes cats. But Papa calls me Pup. He likes dogs more. Does that make me a kip? Kup? Kitup? Pitten? Pupten?”

  I pause deep in thought for a few seconds before I continue, “That Mr. Hot Man-Candy sure is hot. I hope I see him again. Oh shit, am I saying this out loud? Why did I swear again? What has gotten into me? I hope he can’t hear me.”

  Kace laughs.

  “I can totally hear you, Kitten,” he says and winks. “You are definitely one strange and beautiful creature. I’ll be right back.” Then he walks out of the room, disappearing down the hallway.

  I change into my comfy, and not sexy at all, pyjamas while he is out of the room. Then I hop into my soft, fluffy bed, which seems even more heavenly tonight. I moan as I let the comforter and pillows devour me. Kace enters the room a few minutes later with a concerned look on his face.

  “I heard the most terrifying sounds coming from another room,” he says as he rubs his forehead. “I think I heard Jay’s voice. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same again.”

  I giggle, not surprised at all after spending so many years living with Bel. I assume that Jay is the name of Kace’s friend, the one who was grinding on Bel at the beach.

  Suddenly, Kace growls again.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Kace says sheepishly. “I... I’m so sorry. I have no idea what is going on, but I think I’m going to have to go home. Thank you for everything tonight, uh... ?” He pauses when he realises he doesn’t know my name.

  “Whoopsie. My name is Whoopsie.” I flip onto my side, prop myself up on my elbow, and smile seductively. “But you can call me Sie. As in, I see you and your hot body standing there being hot.”

  He tips his head back and laughs, finding my introduction amusing. “Sie, a unique name for a unique woman. Have a good night. Oh, and happy birthday, Sie.” He winks and I bite my lower lip as the warmth inside me continues to grow.

  He growls again as he walks out the door.

  Goodnight, Mr. Hot Man-Candy. See you in my dreams. I hope I get to see you in real life again soon, too.

  I wake up the next day with a hangover from hell and wonder why I let myself drink so much.

  Who invented alcohol? If I knew this, I could build a time machine and stop it from happening. No one ever needs to feel like this. I’ll be a hero.

  Everything hurts. The sun seems a million times brighter and every beat of my heart pounds in my head.

  Ugh, this is going be a long day. Maybe if I just lay completely still with my head under the covers for another day or two, then I’ll be fine.

  There’s a knock on my door, which to my particularly sensitive ears sounds like an elephant stampeding towards me.

  Bel enters with her hand over her eyes and shouts, “Sie, wake up! It’s already the afternoon! Are you dead?!”

  Her voice is like a thousand bombs going off in my head.

  “Go away, Bel,” I mumble at her. “Why the fudge are you yelling? Would it kill you to let me die in peace?”

  “I’m taking my hand away from my eyes, Sie,” she cautions. “You better not be buck-naked with Mr. Hot Man-Candy in here.”

  Mr. Hot Man-Candy? Damn it. I bet he wrote everything I said in the note. What else did I tell him to write? Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t remember every detail from last night.

  “I don’t need to see your naughty bits this afternoon,” she continues. “I saw my fair share of naughty bits last night. And again this morning. Twice. I’m saying I got it on with Jay. We-”

  “Please stop. I know what you’re saying,” I whine, exasperated. “Ugh. You suck. No naughty bits putting on a show in here. And no Mr. Hot Man-Candy either. Just me and a hangover from the deepest depths of hell.”

  “Awe, did someone have too much to drink last night?” She teases me. “Did you learn your lesson?”

  I appear to have a short fuse this morning and my reply comes out rather aggressively. “Fuck off, Bel!”

  My outburst shocks Bel, but it doesn’t seem to be my attitude that concerns her. “What the hell, Sie?” She looks at me quizzically. “Your eyes are white. Well, technically they are a very light, icy blue colour, but pretty much white.”

  “Why do people keep saying that?” I say without hiding my annoyance. “My eyes are regular blue, just like they have been every day of my life. Is everyone going colour blind?”

  Bel convinces me to go look in the mirror and see for myself. It was true. My eyes have turned an icy blue colour.

  “My eyes are icy fucking blue!” I shout at the mirror in disbelief. My eyes usually change colours slightly between various shades of blues, greys, and occasional hints of green, but never anything this distinctive. “What the ever-loving hell is going on?”

  Bel appears amused by my colourful language. She sucks in her lips to hold back her laughter.

  “Maybe it has something to do with that potty-mouth of yours.” She snickers. “You’ve been dropping the f-bomb so much that your eye colour has left you.”

  I try to be angry with her, but my anger seems to have subsided and instead we both laugh.

  Talk about mood swing.

  “Now that you mention it, I have been sounding a lot like you since last night; although, I highly doubt it’s causing my eye colour to change,” I reply with a chuckle. “Maybe it’s some sort of gradual genetic change or something in the drinks, a strange allergic reaction or something. I’m sure it will go back to normal once the alcohol is out of my system and this hangover is gone. That makes sense, right?”

  Bel’s face drops as she informs me that my eyes have now returned to their original deep blue-grey colour. She seems to be having an internal conversation with herself or maybe it’s her turn to have a stroke. One of the two. Regardless, she doesn’t seem overly concerned and I’m way too hungover for this nonsense.

  It isn’t until many days later that Bel tells me she had an idea of what was happening to me, but she had her reasons for keeping an eye on it instead of sharing her thoughts at the time. This also explains how calm she was throughout my unusual identity crisis ordeal.

  I tell Bel that I’ll change into my lounging clothes and then meet her downstairs. Happy with that plan, she heads to the kitchen to warm up left-over pizza. I personally prefer eating my left-over pizza cold.

  “I’m so done with this day already,” I comment to myself as I get changed and then hea
d to the kitchen. We eat our pizza like we are long-lost relatives of the Cookie Monster, or a pack of wild hyaenas, before heading to the living room to share stories from our night.

  I tell Bel all about my night with Mr. Hot Man-Candy; although, I may have forgotten some of the more specific details of the evening thanks to having a few too many drinks. She laughs at my drunken antics and congratulates me on getting a man in my room—even if nothing ended up happening. Then Bel tells me all about her night with Jay. She was very detailed and graphic—I almost needed a shower after hearing about their night. Then we put on a movie and fall asleep on the couch. The sound of Bel’s phone buzzing wakes us up a few hours later.

  “Bel, wake up.” I mumble as I shake her arm. “Someone is lighting your phone up.”

  She opens her eyes and rubs them with her fists.

  “What?” she asks confused, before noticing me pointing at her phone. She grabs her phone and reads the messages.

  “It’s Jay,” she says. “He’s on his way over with Mr. Hot Man-Candy.”

  She looks over at me and seems to get some sick pleasure from the terrified look on my face.

  “What did you just say, Bel?!” I ask as my cheeks lose all colour.

  FOUR

  I stand there with a concerned look on my face. “Bel, what the fudge did you just say?” I repeat while jumping off the couch and placing my hands on my hips, hoping I misheard her. “It sounded like you said Mr. Hot Man-Candy is on his way here right now!”

  The look on Bel’s face tells me she’s thoroughly enjoying this. Perhaps a bit too much for a best friend, if you ask me.

  “Hmm, yes, that is exactly what I just said,” she replies, raising an eyebrow as a smirk forms on her face. “Why? Is that a problem? Based on what you told me earlier, I thought you’d be happy to see him.”

  She can no longer hold in her laughter as I place my hand on my forehead and let out an exaggerated sigh.

  “I called him Mr. Hot Man-Candy,” I remind her, as the memories of all the wonderfully uninhibited things I did last night make my cheeks burn. “To his face. I almost puked on him. I made him carry me home! Oh no, I think I might have even purred. And I’m pretty sure I growled at him at one point.”