I need to fix this.
And after a beat, I realize I’m standing here, staring at her like a fucking creep.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Her eyes flutter open as she gasps, because of course I snuck up on her and scared her. She scans me, her gaze pausing at my waist, her pupils dilating. Then she gives herself a little shake.
“Yeah, why?” She’s got a spark in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. She looks sort of feisty, bordering on aggressive. It makes my breath hitch in my chest.
“I just heard a bang, and it’s kind of late for you to be gettinghome,” I say, and suddenly that spark in her eyes turns into a flame, her brows knitting together.
She glares.
“Look, despite all evidence to the contrary, I am a functioning adult and not a walking disaster,” she says, then crosses her arms over her chest. It’s meant to be aso whatgesture—an attempt at intimidation, maybe—but all I can see is the way her breasts rise when she breathes, her cleavage spilling over the low neckline of her pink tank top.
Dammit, head in the game, McBride.
I try to steer the conversation back to solid ground. “I know, I was just?—”
She holds up a hand to silence me. “I can date, and drink, and redecorate my house all on my own.”
I blink, wondering what the décor has to do with this. I’ve clearly missed something.
“Right,” I try again. “And I was?—”
“I don’t need a babysitter. Or a daddy.”
Fuck, the way she saysdaddymakes my mind short-circuit, which does not help me make sense of what is turning out to be a very strange conversation. Why did I even come out here?
I’m telling you to get a friend.
Oh, right.
I try to meet her eye, but Carson is glaring at me, so I shift my gaze back to my toes.Just talk to her. Just say what you mean.
“I was hoping we could be friends,” I try, then clear my throat. I search my mind for something to say that makes me sound less pathetic than I feel. “I think maybe, uh, you could use one?”
“I have friends!” she cries. “And yeah, they’ve both found the loves of their lives and are busy having mind-blowing sex all over town. But I’mhappyfor them and all they have going on, because that’s what friends do.”
This is going so much worse than I ever could have imagined. And then I go and make it even worse by letting the words “Are you drunk?” fall out of my mouth.
“No, I’m not drunk! I’m just full of kombucha, which I can’t decide if I like, because it kind of tastes like cider and it kind of tastes like feet!”
Fuck. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I meant to ask her to be my friend, not imply that I was doing her some kind of favor. This? This right here is why I don’t talk to people.
Because of course she has friends. She’s kind and funny and generous. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with her? The question is, whowouldwant to be friends withme?
“I’m sorry, I just?—”
“It’s fine, Dan.I’msorry. I word-vomited all over you when I was drunk. I made everything weird when you just need a place to crash. And yeah, I’m a little bit adrift at the moment and it’s making me a little bit crazy, but I’m trying to channel that energy into something good.” She kicks the duffel on the floor. “So you don’t have to worry. You can hide from whatever the fuck it is you’re hiding from without any interference from me. We’re just roommates. Ships passing in the night. And speaking of night, I need to go to sleep, because it’s very much past my bedtime.”
And then she stomps past me, the sweet smell of her shampoo and something earthy like incense wafting over me as she disappears down the hall, slamming her door behind her.
And I’m left standing in the middle of the living room, wondering how the fuck I screwed that up so royally.
CHAPTER 12
CARSON
