I clear my throat. “That’s too bad he was so insecure.”
“So very insecure,” she mumbles before hiccupping.
We round the block, and the storefront of Sweet Cheeks comes into view. Becca stumbles, and I stop her.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask her.
She wrinkles her brow like she can’t believe I asked. “Of course I’m okay. I’m fantastic.”
She marches ahead, then trips on a crack in the sidewalk. I reach out and catch her by the arm to keep her from falling.
“Yup. Fantastic, for sure.” I spin her to face me. “I’m going to carry you the rest of the way, okay? It’ll be easier.”
Her face brightens instantly. “Yay! No one ever carries me! I love being carried.”
I chuckle, then lean down and throw Becca over my shoulder.
“This is how sexy firefighters carry people out of burning buildings, isn’t it?” she says.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Again I’m chuckling. When we arrived at the dive bar and she requested a shot of tequila to kick things off, I was worried she’d end up crying and even more upset than she was when we ran into him. But all she ended up doing was vent about Ben.
“I just…God, I can’t believe I was ever with him. That I ever loved him. That I ever trusted him. That I ever lived with him and shared a life with such a lying, cheating, deceptive—oh! A lucky penny! Wait, stop!”
I halt and glance down at the ground. A tiny shiny copper circle winks up at me in the brightness of a nearby streetlight.
“It’s face up! That means it’s good luck! Here, put me down so I can grab it.”
I do as she tells me. She crouches down and plucks the penny from the concrete, then tucks it into the side pocket of her shorts.
She holds her arms out. “Okay, I’m ready to be carried again, pretty please.”
I grin down at her before hauling her over my shoulder again.
“You know, Gage, you could totally be a sexy firefighter.”
“No, I couldn’t. I don’t have the proper training.”
“Oh. Good point. Well, you could play one on TV.”
She directs me to her apartment. I make it to the door that leads to her place upstairs, which sits to the left of the entrance of Sweet Cheeks. I set her down on her feet but support her with my arm. “I’m gonna need your keys to get in.”
She fumbles with the zipper of her purse before getting it open and digging out her keys.
“Ta-da!” she sings as she holds them up to me.
Laughing, I take them from her and unlock the door. I guide her inside, shut the door behind me, and feel her tug on my hand. I twist around to see her smiling with her eyes closed, holding her arms out, like she’s expecting a hug.
“Carry me please,” she says in a sing-song voice.
I’m sure the grin on my face is goofy as hell. But I can’t help it. Becca is ridiculously adorable when she’s drunk.
I lean forward, crouch down, and throw her over my shoulder once more.
“Wee!” she says as I take the first flight of stairs.
“What floor are you?” I ask.
“Third. All the way at the end. Sorry.”
