“His pizza stinks,” Holden said, frustration still brimming in his eyes.
“Not after a few drinks,” Sky sang.
Oh, Jesus.
“I’ll take you to pick up your pizza,” Becket pushed.
“You’re cute, but I choose Clara.” Then she leaned against him, rose to her toes and whispered, “Safer option.”
His back teeth ground together. He didn’t seem to have a fucking choice. “Fine. Straight home after the pizza.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Oh, dang. Ruined my plans of bar hopping until we find a biker gang.”
Sky pecked a kiss to his cheek. “See you later,honey.”
He had to watch as she slid into the back seat of the car before Clara drove away.
Holden moved up beside him. “I’ll follow them. You wait for Sky at home.”
Thank fuck they were on the same page. Some might call it overprotective. Becket didn’t give a damn.
“Thanks.” He clenched Holden’s shoulder in gratitude before moving to his car.
The trip home was quick, and once inside, he kicked off his shoes and waited.
It didn’t take long. Fifteen minutes later, his phone buzzed with a text.
Holden: She’s getting dropped off now.
Good. He’d give her a few minutes before checking on her.
But only a minute passed before a scratching noise sounded at his door.
What the hell was that?
CHAPTER11
Why wasn’t the key going in? Sure, she’d had a few cocktails, and her vision was a bit all over the place, but the dang key should still fit.
She tried to push it in again. Same thing.
What the heck was going on?
She was about to try a third time when the door flew open.
Her jaw dropped. “Becket? What are you doing here?”
He lifted a brow, looking amused. “Peaches…this is my house.”
His house? She stepped back and looked up. No second story. Then she glanced at the house beside it. Her house.
Shit.
She really should have stopped at the second jug of mojitos. Damn Indie for continuing to order more when Sky had zero self-restraint.
Becket opened the door wider. “Come in, Peaches.”
“But it’s your house.”
