Fuck.
I love her.
I love her.
But I’ll be damned before I say it out loud tonight. Not here, not with her drunk and sparkling, laughing and having the best time.
So I let myself keep my eyes on her instead, because it’s too late to take it back.
The scent of lime air freshener and stale whiskey hits us once we’ve piled into a taxi with Tamara and Eli, headlights washing the city in and out of view. Eli’s folded into the front seat, head against the window, mumbling in a half-slur.
“Nachos. Tam’ra, I want nachos. Big ones! With cheese all over. And jalapeños.”
Tamara groans behind him, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand while the other stays clamped on his arm like a seatbelt. “Oh mygod,Eli. Go to sleep.”
Which leaves me in the back corner behind the driver, and Lulu in the middle seat.
She’s tucked beside me, sequins brushing against my sleeve every time the car hits a bump. Her arm rests at her side, knuckles barely grazing mine. Accidental at first, then definitely not. A slow, deliberate drag until her pinkie hooks around mine.
It’s nothing, barely there. Hidden in the shadows of the back seat, where no one can see. But it sets every nerve in my body on fire.
I shift just enough to catch her hand properly, folding my fingers over hers. Small and careful. Secret. She exhales a little laugh, more breath than sound, and leans the tiniest bit closer.
Christ, I’m gone for this girl.
Her palm is warm and soft, her nails biting lightly as if she’s scared I’ll pull away. Like I ever could. I squeeze back, thumb dragging across her knuckles once, slow and careful. She exhales, head tipping just enough that her shoulder bumps mine.
The ride’s nothing but passing headlights painting her in gold, the weight of her hand secure in mine. Every so often, she giggles under her breath at Eli’s half-snores, and I have to bite my tongue not to laugh with her.
Or to turn, press my mouth to her temple, and soak in the warmth of her hair against my jaw. But Tamara’s sharp, even half-dozing, Eli’s still rambling about melted cheese, and the driver doesn’t need this show.
So I hold her hand tighter, thumb smoothing across her knuckles again, like it’s the only tether keeping me sane.
We roll to a stop outside their house first, and the car idles under the streetlight. Tamara nudges Eli awake and hauls him out with a saintly patience, steady and firm.
He stumbles up the path, muttering about vows and sour cream, while she glances back once, catching my eye. Suspicious. Knowing. And then she looks away, shaking her head as though she doesn’t want the details.
The car pulls away toward Birch, and suddenly, it’s just me and Lulu, still holding hands in the dark. It slows outside Lulu’s driveway, and we climb out, laughter and shouts from the bar still buzzing in my head.
For a second, we stand there in the quiet, streetlamps painting her blue sequins bright. She hugs herself against the chill, biting her lower lip.
“Night, Pookie,” she teases, voice softer than it should be. “Do I get a goodnight kiss?”
I narrow my eyes, already shaking my head. “Not happening.”
She blinks, giggles bubbling out. “Rude. If you’re not gonna kiss me good night, will you at least tuck me in? My bed’s calling.”
“No, Lu.” I step closer, smiling softly and sweeping a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re with me tonight.”
Her eyes sparkle, hazy and confused. “We agreed—too risky, can’t stay the night in each other’s beds in case Eli shows up.”
“Eli’s not going to be awake for at least half of tomorrow. And I don’t give a fuck right now. I just want you with me.”
Her brows jump, mock-scandalized. “Bossy.”
“Smart,” I correct, already turning her toward the street. “You’re drunk, Parnell. I’m not letting you trip into your house alone.”
That earns me another laugh, soft and flustered, but she doesn’t argue. Just threads her fingers through mine and lets me steer her to my front porch.
