“Already did that,” Jensen says from behind me, making me whirl around. “Remember? You wanted to keep all the good pussy to yourself.”
She’s smiling. Meaning she’s joking. Though, of course, she lies too, so I don’t know if I can trust that she won’t turn on me in a quick second.
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Her constant mood shifts leave me on edge.
“Why did you even say that?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I wanted to watch you squirm.” She shrugs. I swear that’s the most honest she’s been with me all night. Minus when I had her in my arms in the hallway. “Why are you still here?”
“Can’t find an Uber.”
“What? And all of your friends left you here alone?”
“They weren’t my friends. I came tonight because my roommate invited me. His brother is the future groom.” Why am I telling her all this? She doesn’t fucking care.
More like, she doesn’t deserve to know.
“They still abandoned you, Rhett.” Her voice is soft. So are her eyes. She has the most beautiful eyes. Big and blue and full of secrets.
It’s like I know nothing about her.
I glance down at my phone again and misstep on the edge of the sidewalk, nearly toppling over before I right myself.
“You’re drunk.” She states the obvious.
“Only a little bit.” I hold my thumb and index finger up, with barely any space between them. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get a taxi.”
“Isn’t that your car out in the parking lot?” She points.
I look where she’s pointing. “Yeah, that’s mine.”
“You’re going to leave it here overnight and take a taxi home?”
“I can’t drive home, Jens. I’m drunk, remember?”
She blows out an exaggerated breath and turns to the ferocious blonde, who just exited the club. “I need to take him home,” Jensen tells her.
“Oh, hell no,” I start, but she sends me a look. I lower my voice. “I don’t want you driving me home, Jensen.”
“You leave your car here and someone is going to break into it,” she tells me.
“At the very least,” the blonde adds. “More like they’ll flat out steal it.”
“Savannah’s right. You’ll come back here tomorrow and your car will most likely be gone,” Jensen says. “I’ll drive you home.”
I stare at my car with longing. I love that fucking car. I don’t make a big deal about my financial situation, but I do appreciate driving a truly excellent vehicle.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Savannah asks Jensen.
I turn to look at them, wondering at the meaningful looks they’re giving each other. Does Savannah know about me? Does she know Jensen is a liar?
Probably not.
“I’m sure,” Jensen says firmly before she walks over to me and holds her hand out, palm up. “Your keys.”
Reluctantly I hand them over. I don’t trust her, yet I’m going to let her drive my car. Let her drive me home. But I’m too drunk to protest, and she knows it.