Eden’s eyes narrow, and the heat of her anger blasts at me like a newly lit grill. “Stop interfering, Arya.”
“I’m not the one who interferes. Except now, because she’s so drunk.” My gaze slides over to Avery. “Sorry. No offense.”
“None taken,” she says with an understanding smile.
“Ready?” Sorensen’s deep voice says from behind me.
Turning, I eye a large paper bag in his grip. A to-go package from Briggs the chef? I like that Erik doesn’t make a fuss about missing dinner. Brayden would’ve lost it over a missed meal at Heyworth House. He was all about seizing opportunities to socialize with the billionaire boys’ club.
I walk to the front and retrieve my coat. Once I have it on, I look Tavi over. Her scarf is falling off her shoulder and her coat is buttoned wrong, leaving a big gap at the top for the wind to blow into.
“Dios Mío,look at you.” I say, laughing. “Are you two years old? Your coat’s lopsided.”
As Sorensen puts his own coat on, I fix Tavi’s scarf and buttons.
“Thank you,” she says, hooking an arm through mine and resting her head against my shoulder.
“Just don’t fall. I don’t want to break my ass on the sidewalk.”
Tavi laughs and launches into a story about one band member slipping on ice and knocking others down like dominoes.
“Eden, we’re going. You coming or not?” I call out.
Eden emerges with a tart expression. “No, I’m not.” My girl hates when she’s not calling the shots.
When our coach is away, Eden always jumps in to run practice. And she’s just as quick to take credit for the squad’s accomplishments, even though I do all the choreography. She doesn’t see it as overstepping. Eden’s the one who lured me to GU and got me my scholarship. She sees herself as an executive who found the right talent to transform the Lady Knights into the most accomplished dance team GU has ever had. Two national championships. Performances on television and at regional events. The dean likes to call us the school’s crown jewels.
“Why are you rushing out?” She flicks her hair impatiently. “You haven’t even said goodbye to the host.”
I shrug. “We’ve got to go. Tell Declan goodbye from us. And that the food and drinks were amazing.” Not waiting for her to argue, I hurry out the door.
Sorensen gets us situated in the truck and drives us to Tavi’s building. By the time we get there, she’s asleep. I shake her shoulders gently to wake her.
“Give me a minute,” I say. “I’ll take her inside.”
“I’ll do it,” the Viking says, opening the driver’s door.
“No, no. I can—”
“No.” His manly I-have-spoken tone is firm.
I purse my lips, ready to protest more vehemently.
As he exits, he adds, “If she loses her balance, she can’t take me down with her. I’ll make sure she lands somewhere soft in her apartment.”
“All right. You canhelpme get her inside,” I say, shoving my door open and hopping out. No offense to him, but I wouldn’t let any strange guy take an incapacitated girlfriend up to her apartment alone.
Sorensen guides Tavi down from the truck and keeps a big steadying arm around her waist all the way up the stairs.
I fish her keys out of her pocket and unlock her door. She’s half asleep as she leans against the Viking giant and then drifts off, starting to sink to the ground.
My god. Drunk girls are a pain in my ass.
He bends forward and picks her up in one sweeping motion. Walking past me into the apartment, he says, “Bedroom?”
I fucking hate him.
But also, he is sexy as fuck.
