“We’re getting tacos,” I shout back, gesturing towards the door. She pouts for a moment.
“I wanna keep dancing,” she whines in my ear. I duck my head, trying to not groan at the way she whimpers as the song ends.
“Let’s get food in you. We have a travel day tomorrow,” I whisper. My lips brush against her ear, and I watch the way she folds. “Come on, we have to get you sober; otherwise, it’s going to be a shitty day.”
She rolls her eyes but steps on her tiptoes for a moment, her lips brushing my cheek before walking out of the bar.
My brain has shut off. There’s a high-pitched whine in my ears, and it must be my thoughts turning back on because she’s rebooted my system with the brush of her lips.
I must be bright red with how hot my cheeks are.
Holy shit.
She…she did that.
I cough to clear my throat before leaving, pointedly ignoring the way Kenz looks at me from the stoop of the bar. I don’t think I can talk to her for the rest of the night because she’s going to know what went on. Taylor looks lighter, her shoulders have rolled back, and she seems happy.
Not that she usually doesn’t, but I think this was the perfect night for her, especially after everything that happened today.
We’re at the hotel. Kenz left us at the taco place, and I got the opportunity to navigate Taylor into the rideshare and out of it. The night receptionist at the hotel waves at us as we stumble past. Taylor’s hands are all over me, wandering down my back as we wait for the elevator.
“You’re a good person,” she slurs.
“You are too, Taylor,” I say, pacifying her as she snorts. “Minus the struggle of meeting new teammates,” I tease.
“I’m not a good person,” she says. She rolls her head back, eyes glassy. “I was so mean to you.”
“And we got past that.”
She makes a dismissive noise. “It’s not—I’m not homophobic.”
I smile. “I know. You’re friends with Winnie. She wouldn’t be friends with you if you were.” Her smile is soft as I usher us into the elevator. “You know, you kissed me tonight.”
She hums. “First time I’ve done that.”
“You also said you didn’t realize what it’s like to enjoy another person’s company?” I whisper. She hums again.
“Frank was an idiot.”
“You were with him for years, weren’t you?” I ask. The elevator is moving slowly. Or maybe time is slow. “You had to enjoy his company, right?”
Her head rolls, and maybe she’s too far gone for this conversation. I shouldn’t be doing this. This feels like a violation.
I should stop. But her hand twirls in the hair at the nape of my neck while the other is holding my hand, pushes me forward. “Is this how you and Rosie would touch each other, as friends?”
She nods. “Rosie was good. I loved her.”
“More than Frank?”
She sighs. “Frank was stable. My mom loved Frank. My dad loved Frank. I loved Rosie.”
“And she left.”
“She left. She and her husband left.”
My eyebrows feel like they’re jumping off myface.Her husband? Shit.“So you need a replacement Rosie and a replacement Frank?”
“Frank wasn’t useful for much else than getting my mom off my back.”
