I step toward her, and Kyle mutters something under his breath, but he doesn’t make a move toward me. At least he’s not completely brain-dead.
“I know, honey. But you’re drunk as a skunk. It’s time to go.”
She gnaws on her bottom lip like she’s about to argue. I don’t wait for her to start. I just want to get her out of here—away from the lewd stares of the guys at the bar. So, I hoist her over my shoulder, one hand holding her dress down so that some of her dignity remains intact.
“Tripp! Oh my God,” she giggles. “Put me down.”
I ignore her protest as Paula slides a brown paper bag across the bar.
“There are a couple of water bottles in the bag too,” she says.
“Thanks, Paula. Is it okay if I come pay my tab tomorrow? Add whatever she had to mine.”
“No problem. You take care of that one.” She gives Quinn a look, half amused, half concerned. “Seems like some latent wild streak’s been lit.”
And damn if that doesn’t make me even more intrigued.
This wasn’t the Quinn I remembered—the girl who once cried over a 3.9 GPA and grounded herself after sneaking out to a single party. Nowshe’s quitting jobs, moving back to the farmhouse, and dancing drunk on a bar.
Who was this girl?
The Quinn I remembered was softer. Quieter. A girl who made lists and followed the rules, who didn't rock the boat. But every now and then, I’d catch a flicker of something else—a restless side, wanting to come out to play. Like the night she called me in the middle of the night when she was sixteen.
Sixteen Years Ago
My phone rings in my pocket, and I reluctantly pull away from the girl I went home with. We’d gone out dancing, and I’d been eager to get her somewhere alone. Lucky for me she has her own apartment, since I’m still stuck living at home with my parents.
The name flashing across the screen pulls me up short. If it had been nearly anyone else, I’d have ignored the call and slipped it back in my pocket.
“Yeah?” I answer, sharper than I usually am with her.
“Tripp?” Quinn’s voice comes through loud, muffled by shouts and raucous noise. “Are you busy?”
I eye the blonde in front of me and wince apologetically. “What do you need?”
“Sooo, I maybe drove Allie and Sawyer to this party but now I think maybe I—uh—shouldn’t drive anymore.”
“Shit.” My stomach drops. I’ve never seen Quinn drink a single drop of alcohol.
“Sawyer swears she can handle it, but last I checked, they don’t give out licenses at fifteen.”
“What party?”
“They got invited to Chase’s party and asked me to come.”
“You don’t drink,” I snap. This isn’t her. She’s a rule-follower to her core.
“Yeah,” she says, voice wobbling. “Well, I did tonight.”
I exhale hard through my nose. “Where are you?”
“Couple of miles past his place. Big bonfire. Too many cars. You can’t miss it.”
What the hell had she been thinking taking my little sister and Sawyer to this party?
“Keep your phone on. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And for Christ’s sake, don’t drink anything else.”
I hang up and glance at the pretty woman, who’s sitting back with her arms crossed.
