"I’m just saying. We already failed once."
Country leaned back in his seat. "So, best case scenario, we get to be friends. Worst case, we have sex. I don't see the problem here."
Jenna scoffed. "No, worst case is we have sex and it ruins said friendship and we never talk again." She realized what she was saying before the final words were out of her mouth. First, she’d admitted there was a possibility they could find themselves in that position. Second . . .
Country raised an eyebrow. "Seems like we've already survived worst case, then. Nothing to lose."
Jenna's stomach swooped. Survived was a strong word. She thought back to those weeks and months after she'd told him not to get in the car and drive. How she hadn't left her bed for seventy-two hours, and then when she finally forced herself to go to class, she absorbed barely enough to pass her midterms.
Months later, she still would've failed a self-report landing her on the depression scale, and after the first year, she hadn't found one thing in her life that felt as real or worth working toward as the life she'd imagined with Gentry.
She’d had to let go of the life raft, and she knew soul-deep that if she dove in again, she’d never find her way to the surface.
"I think it's probably time I went home." Jenna reached into her purse, but Country waved over their server and handed her a card before Jenna could pull hers out. "Country?—"
"I told you it was on me."
"I had two glasses of wine."
He waved her off. "You didn't even want to come."
"Well, if I'd known you were buying me two drinks, I wouldn't have put up a fuss."
"Next time, I'll be more transparent."
Jenna smiled and slipped her wallet back in her purse then stood and put on her coat. After Country signed the check, they walked back to his truck and he drove the few blocks to the parking garage.
Jenna yawned a thank you as they approached the entrance, then blinked when she saw the metal cage pulled down behind the entry bars. She'd never seen those there before. "Here, pull in and I'll try the door."
"I don't think?—"
"Maybe they retract when a car approaches. Motion sensors or something."
Country didn't argue, though she could tell he wanted to. When he pulled to a stop in front of the garage, she jumped out, stalked up to the door, and tried to turn the handle but it wouldn't budge. Was she really locked out of the studio parking garage? She pulled out her phone to call John then realized it was past three in the morning. There was no way he'd answer, and even if he did, what did she expect him to do?
Jenna walked back to the truck and got in.
"No luck?"
She dropped her head against the seat. "You can clearly see I had no luck, Country."
He stifled a grin. "So. I guess I'm taking you home?"
Chapter Twelve
Country glanced over at Jenna, asleep against the door with her mouth hanging open. How was it possible that at thirty-three she looked just as good as she had at twenty? Not identical, she had more smile lines, and her cheekbones were more defined. When she was awake, tension was built into her features, but in sleep, she was as soft as he remembered.
He pulled up in front of her townhouse. Or at least what the GPS said was her apartment since he'd never seen it before. It felt like he was a kid spying on his parents talking about paying bills. like he was getting a peek into a world he wasn't ready for or invited to join. He put the truck in park, then reached over and shook her shoulder. Besides drawing a deep breath, she didn't react.
"Jenna, don't make this difficult for me." He gave her another gentle shake, and when she only nestled further into the seat, he blew out a breath and unclicked his seatbelt. Difficult it was, then. Country stepped onto the quiet street, the lemon light of the streetlamp hazy in the cold. He rounded the truck bed and opened Jenna's door slowly so he had a chance of catching her if she fell. Which she did.
Country caught her with his left arm, then squatted and repositioned so her head was on his shoulder. He reached out and pulled off her seatbelt, then disentangled it from the right side of her body, sure that at any moment she was going to wake up and wonder why the hell he had his hands all over her.
"Jens," he whispered, rubbing her arm. "I need to get you inside." Her head lolled and she mumbled something unintelligible. At least she was responding to something. "Hey, you're home. Can you help me find your keys? It's freezing out here."
Jenna nuzzled into his shoulder and gripped onto the lapel of his sheepskin-lined coat. So, no help then. Country maneuvered to grab her purse that had slid from her lap to the opposite edge of the seat. With one hand, he worked at the zipper until he could reach inside, then fumbled around until he heard clinking metal. "Bingo." He pulled out the keys, praying there wouldn't be too many to choose from. He was in luck. The keyring held three keys and?—
Country froze, staring at the royal blue key ring. Toronto Maple Leafs. He'd given her that right after signing with the Admirals, the first time he'd driven up to Windsor for the weekend.
