I turn to Troy, his eyebrows arched in question. “Gotta go. Alex needs me.”
He smirks like the smug bastard he is. “Ah, the old rescue-the-damsel play. Classic move, bro.”
I flip him off, heading for the door. “Not like that, dickhead. She’s my friend.”
Friend. Right. Friends’ voices don’t make your pulse race like you just mainlined Red Bull. Friends don’t hijack your thoughts day and fucking night. Friends don’t make you want to introduce guys named Eric to your fist for making them cry.
I break about a dozen speed limits getting to Fifth Street. Alex is there, huddled on a bench outside The Hungry Vegan, looking small and fragile. It reminds me of the first time we met, outside that party. Something primal and protective stirs in my gut, and I want to punch something. Preferably Eric’s face. Have Imentionedhow punchable that guy is?
“Hey,” I say softly, approaching. “You okay?”
She looks up, her tear-stained face illuminated by the streetlights. My fists clench involuntarily, but then she offers a tremulous smile, and suddenly Eric becomes irrelevant.
“You came,” she says.
“Of course I did. What are friends for, right?”
She nods, wiping her eyes. “Can we just go? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
I bow with exaggerated flourish. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.” It works—sort of. She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of amusement there.
As we walk to my car, I notice her shivering. Jesus, she’s barely wearing anything. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lexie showso much skin. My gaze lingers on her chest spilling out of her tight top. Without thinking, I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She looks up, startled.
“It’s a jacket, Ford. You’re cold, accept it,” I order.
She mumbles thanks, and I pretend not to notice how fucking good she looks in my clothes. Christ, I’m in trouble.
Once in the car, I turn to her. “So, where to? Home? Or we could hit up that 24-hour diner you love, drown your sorrows in milkshakes.”
She shakes her head. “Can we…can we go to the movies?”
I blink, thrown off-guard. “You want to see a movie? Now?”
“No,” she says, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “I just really want some overpriced popcorn.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Overpriced popcorn it is.”
As I pull out of the parking lot, I steal a glance at Alex. She’s gazing out the window, lost in thought, my jacket engulfing her small frame.
“My mom used to drive me to get popcorn when I’d had a bad day,” Alex says softly, breaking the silence. “She hated movies, couldn’t sit still long enough to get through them.” She pauses, her voice catching. “And my cousin Emma… she thought it was the stupidest thing ever.”
Alex laughs, but it’s a bittersweet sound. “Until she came with us one day. Then she said she was wrong, that buying movie popcorn to sit and eat in the car was actually the best thing ever.”
I nod, not sure what to say. But I know this shit’s important to her, so I keep my mouth shut and let her talk.
“That was the first and only time I ever heard her admit she was wrong,” Alex whispers, her voice so soft I have to strain to hear it. And fuck me if it doesn’t remind me of how I sound when I talk about Grandpops. The girl she’s talking about is no longer here.
“I’m sorry, Lex,” I offer, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. It feels inadequate as hell, but it’s all I’ve got.
She gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. We were just… very close. I don’t have any siblings, so she was more like a sister to me. I didn’t really realize shewasn’tmy sister.”
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Well, whenever you’re ready, I’d love to hear more about her. Sounds like she was a badass and nearly as stubborn as her cousin.”
She laughs—it’s shaky and soft, but it’s real, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t do things to my insides.
I leave Alex in the car with the heat blasting and jog to the theater. The kid at the concession stand looks like he’d rather be anywhere else as I order two large popcorns. I think about getting candy too, but the popcorn alone costs more than my last oil change.
When I return to the car, Alex has the radio on low, some indie song I vaguely recognize playing softly. She gives me a small smile as I hand her the popcorn, our fingers brushing.
