“Don’t be... Accidents happen.”
That was one way to describe last night.
His large black boots crunched against the gravel as he slowly approached me, stopping just beside my hip before he spoke again. “Come on.”
I looked at the hand he was offering, and then to his face. His eyebrows quirked slightly as he nodded in emphasis to his palm. My gaze dropped back to his fingertips as I hesitated, not entirely sure why I did.
Was there a hand-holding limit when it came to fake dating? Technically the fake dating scenario was over. And he was only offering this hand to help me off the ground.
I slid my fingers across his, allowing my palm to settle against his own before he hoisted me to my feet. We released the hold on each other simultaneously before he pulled out his keys and walked back to the driver's seat.
Dusting away the pieces of gravel that poked into my thighs, I walked around to the passenger door and climbed into the front seat. Finding my bag where I left it (tucked under the chair), I picked it up and set it in my lap, twiddling my thumbs as Dean started the car. The engine cut through the silence, and I directed my gaze to the window beside me.
A new kind of awkwardness settled within me. With the knowledge of what I tried to do last night, I felt ill. Yet Dean seemed fine with it.
I just wanted to put this whole weekend behind me and was grateful when Dean started to slowly ease through the parking lot. Mindful of the other hungover revelers coming to terms with what they got up to last night. They looked how I felt. Though I imagined I didn’t exactly look any better either.
The Cadillac slowed to an idle while several people ambled across in front of the car. I hadn’t realized Dean had wound down his window until he whistled. Not at the people in front of us but at Seb, standing shirtless outside a parked car as he yawned.
“Need a ride home?” Dean asked.
Seb grinned, briefly stealing a glance into the backseat of the car he stood beside before raising his brows. “I think I might hang out here for a bit.”
A feminine hand reached out from within the car, gripped the hem of his jeans, and yanked him toward the back seat. The goofy grin that overcame Seb’s face made him look like a little kid in a candy shop as he saluted us with two fingers and collapsed into the car, closing the door behind him.
I half expected to see my mother’s car waiting outside the apartment when we pulled up to the curb. Assuming she might be here to drag me back to the house and force me to attend the bible study classes she talked about starting. But she wasn’t there, and neither was Aiden’s car. Which meant he and Kira weren’t back from their weekend away yet.
I let out a stiff sigh and turned to Dean. While my thoughts were a jumble of confusion and embarrassment over what happened, I felt it only right to repay him for coming to the barbecue in the first place.
And for putting up with my behavior last night.
“No one is home. You could come up? But only if you want to,” I said quickly.
He paused in consideration, one hand resting on the bottom of the steering wheel as he faced the street ahead. When he looked at me again, his face was completely serious. Which made me nervous.
I had overstepped.
“Do you have bacon?” he asked.
I blinked. “Yes. I think so... Is that a yes?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up as his expression relaxed. “Yes, Lily. It is.”
“Oh,” I breathed, unable to contain my smile. “Good. But I should mention we might have to sneak in.”
“Because of your neighbor.”
He remembered.
“If Susan saw me bringing someone into my apartment that wasn’t a roommate, she would have a field day reporting it to my parents.”
“Susan?”
“Yes. My parents sort of enlisted her help to keep an eye on me when I first moved in,” I rattled off.
He nodded in understanding as subtle amusement danced in his eyes. “How exactly did you convince your parents to let you move out of home?”
A small, breathy laugh bubbled over from my chest. “I honestly have no idea.”
