“Nikki!”
“Right. Nikki,” I amend, a smile tugging at my lips. “Let me take you home. Please? I promise not to feel you up.”
Haley’s green eyes find mine. Her stare is wild, exposed, free. As drunk as she is right now, I’m surprised she can hold eye contact like this. It almost starts to make me uncomfortable, the way she’s staring at me like she’s ready to put on gloves and dig her way through the skeletons in my closet. I’m so uncomfortable I canfeelsweat start to form on the back of my neck, the tiny hairs standing at attention, but I refuse to look away. I can’t. This is a test—one I want to pass.
“Okay.” Her answer is firm, quiet, sure.
“Okay,” I repeat. “My car’s this way.”
“Mine is right here,” she says pointing to a tan sedan.
I blink once, twice. “How am I going to get back here?”
She shrugs. “Walk.”
“I don’t even know how far away you live.”
“Just twenty or forty blocks.”
Yes, because those numbers aresoclose together.I mentally do the math. I can walk that.
“Fine,” I relent. “Keys.”
She roots around in her purse again, muttering to herself the entire time. “Aha! Here.”
I have no time to react before she’s chucking a huge, clunky lanyard at me, hitting me square in the chest. I rub the spot as I bend down to grab the offending object. Straightening up, I find Haley already on the other side of her car, huffing at me. I suppress an amused smile, not wanting her to think I’m laughing at her—although I absolutely am. I begin sifting through the lanyard full of cheesy keychains and about eight different keys. Luckily finding the car key is simple. I hit the unlock button and she dives into the car, slamming her hand against the horn almost immediately.
“Let’s move it!” she hollers from inside.
I roll my eyes as I open the door and fold myself into the tiny vehicle. This woman is insane.
“Vroom!” she says.
I shake my head, smiling like a moron over her curt reactions. She’s surprisingly increasingly impolite when she’s drunk. I adjust the seat to fit my six-two frame as she opens the glove box and starts pulling out napkin after napkin.
I turn over the engine, grimacing at the squeak I hear her belts making. The mechanic in me automatically starts thinking of ways to fix it and the other small inconsistencies I feel in the movements of her car. I make a mental note to remind her to get a tune up if I make it out of this night alive.
“Left,” she instructs once I reach the end of the lot.
From the corner of my eye I can see she’sstillpulling napkins from the glove box.
“Are you looking for something?” I ask her.
“No.”
Okay then.Other than instructing me on where to turn, she’s quiet the rest of the ride, giving up her non-search about two minutes in. I pull into a parking space of the apartment building she’s led me to and shut off the car.
“We’re here,” she announces, throwing open her door, stepping out, and then slamming it closed again.
I quickly follow her. I’d be a dick if I let her attempt to walk into her building by herself in this state. I’m hot on her heels the entire time, ready and waiting to catch her if she falls. By some miracle, she only fumbles over herself twice on the journey. We reach her door and she holds out her hand for her jumble of keys. I hand them over, dying to see how she’s going to find the key in that mess.
She tries two different ones before dropping the heavy lanyard to the floor, bending over quickly to retrieve them—too quickly if the way she falters and grabs at her head is any indication. I shake my head and grab her keys from her, squinting in the dim light to find the right one. It takes three tries before the door gives way. She brushes past me into the quiet room, loudly dumping her bag onto the floor because she misses the table near the door and then giggling at her own mishap.
I don’t know whether I should follow her or not. I know nothing about this girl. Other than knowing her name, how great her ass is, and her knack for assumptions, she’s practically a stranger. With a smirk, I watch as she starts fumbling around, having a full-blown conversation with herself to “be quiet before you wake my sister.” Then, loud and clear, I hear a voice IknowI’ve heard before.
“Hales?”
The mechanic shop I work at is owned by my best friend Hudson. That voice coming from a bedroom down the hall? Well, it belongs to Hudson’s new girlfriend, Rae. A part of me panics for a whole different reason now. I don’t want to be caught in my best friend’s girlfriend’s apartment with her sister. Iknowthe warnings Hudson would give me about this and my current situation. Hell,Iknow the warnings I’d give me—not that I’ve given myself any tonight because we’ve just been harmlessly flirting.
