“You need a hospital. And how, exactly, do you plan on getting there?” Blondie parks her hands on her hips and starts tapping her toe.
Yep.
Fucking gone to this woman.
“My bike is out front.”
“Ha!” She rolls those gorgeous amber eyes and pushes her glasses up. “Like you could seriously drive right now.”
“I can—“
“She’s got a point, Cy.” My traitor of a best friend smirks. “You might not realize it, but you’re leaning pretty hard to the left.”
“Am not,” I grunt like a toddler then try to straighten up only to find I am in fact leaning, so straightening up makes everything spin.
“Alphahole.” Blondie sighs. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Hell no.” There is no fucking way I’m letting her go back to the clubhouse. This bar fight was nothing compared to the shit that happens there and she’s not ready for something like that.
“He’s your friend.” She looks at Jackal. “Try to talk some sense into him.”
But he just shrugs with a smile and throws his arm over Red’s shoulders. “You ain’t doing any better than I will. At least he hasn’t told you to fuck off yet.”
“Fine.” Blondie grabs her purse from the stool, slings it over her shoulder then looks to her friend. “You coming?”
Ruby Red shakes her head. “Nah. I’m going to hang out with my new friends Jackal, Pork Chop, and Brick.” Then she wags her eyebrows. “Might take a walk on the wild side and do something I’ve never done before.”
“Text me if you don’t like it.” Blondie lifts a brow before she turns to me. “Thank you for coming to my rescue again. I hope you don’t bleed to death.” Then she spins on her heel and starts marching toward the front door.
“Idiot,” Jackal coughs.
Goddamnit.
“Blondie, wait.” I stagger forward and absolutely lean to the left. I hate to admit it, but she’s right. I couldn’t drive my bike home now if I wanted to and honestly, I shouldn’t do anything but lay down and pass out.
But my hopeful ride is currently burning up the pavement as her heels click their way to her Jeep 4x4, a rather impressive ride for such a petite little pixie.
“Blondie.”
Her hand stops on the handle of the door, her shoulders bunched up to her ears.
“You’re right.”
Slowly she turns. “About what?”
If she were any other woman, I’d assume this was some game to get me to say she was right in fifty different ways so I can never live this down, but it’s my blonde bombshell and I can tell she genuinely has no clue what I’m talking about.
“I can’t drive home.”
She chews her lip to hide her grin. “Do you need help getting in?”
“Yes,” I grumble, because I do.
Then she’s at the back of her jeep, taking my hand and leading me to the passenger’s side of her ride. I watch as Blondie opens the door, tosses a bunch of shit in the back then reclines the seat all the way, and pushes it back to accommodate my legs before she gently tugs me over.
“Will you be able to give me directions or should I put the address in my GPS?”
“We’re not going to my place,” I grunt as I drop into the seat, cringe from all the places that sting and wait for her to freak out.
