”Bye, guys!” I shout, waving at the girls as they all get into their respective cars. “We need to do this again soon!” Leo helps me into his car after we exit the Mill. It’s early summer, but compared to the warm bar we just left, it’s chilly outside. Still, I barely feel it, my happy emotions running high.
Even more, I think Adam was right: I just needed a life in order to get inspired. In fact, if I weren’t so drunk, I could probably write an entire album tonight. That’s just how good I feel.
I can’t say it would be agoodalbum, but it would be an album all the same.
But I can’t, because I am, in fact, very, very drunk.
Once the car is moving and Leo makes it clear he’s not in the mood for chitchat, my mind moves happily over the night. Despite the bumpy beginning, it was the best night I can remember, and I feel like I even finally got past Leo’s grumpy facade.
A successful night, if you ask me.
“That’s my turn,” I say a bit later, watching the entrance for Three Kings Farm pass by us without Lepo even slowing.
“I’m not taking you home,” he says simply. I sit up a bit, my head swimming as I look at him, but his eyes are directed out the window, face neutral.
“What?”
“Willa, you’re hammered. I can’t in good conscience take you to your place to sleep alone.”
“Because you’re supposed to keep an eye on me and keep me out of trouble?” I ask, sounding petulant even to my own ears. He sighs and shakes his head.
“No, because despite you being a pain in my ass, I care about you.”
“You do?” I ask, and his brow furrows. For a moment, his eyes leave the road to look at me, and that confusion is written across his face as well.
“Of course, Will,” he says gently, and the words settle in my belly, sending a warmth through me that rivals the shots I took tonight. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you and I could have stopped it, Willa.”
I stare at his profile, the moon casting shadows across it, and for a moment, I think about asking more questions, anything to better understand him, but I don’t know where to start, so instead, I just rest my head against the cool glass, my eyes drifting shut as I do.
“I had fun tonight,” I admit into the quiet cab of the car as we turn and make our way up Leo’s bumpy, winding driveway.
“I can tell. I think the whole bar could tell.”
I giggle, my heavy head shifting so I can look at him as he parks the car with effortless ease, backing into a spot on the gravel drive by doing that hot guy thing of putting his arm on the back of my seat. Finally, he turns off the car and opens the door. “Stay there,” he says.
Even though I’ve made it my mission to do more of whatever Leo tells menotto do, I decide listening to him just this oncemight be for the best. He moves around the car, then opens my door and offers me a hand, which I take. He tugs me up, and when I stumble, he chuckles and wraps an arm around my waist before I fall. Then he pulls me into his side, and together, we make our way to the front door. Without meaning to, I melt into him, liking the feel of his strong body supporting me, aiding me, seemingly without judgment.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”
I lift a shoulder with the question as he unlocks the door, a basic, dark-stained wood with old-looking brass hardware, and pushes it open. Once inside, he steps away from me, and instantly, I feel cold.
An awkward silence fills the room for a moment; then he lifts a brow assessingly before explaining. “Can’t very well fix reputations and clean up the bad boys if you’re just as bad.”
“I was always cool with it, child star and whatnot, so I don’t need your pity. I’ve always had everything, never wanted anything at all.” I bite my lip, but in my drunken state, I can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “But I guess lately, I’m realizing I missed out on a lot of things.”
“Like?”
“Like…dancing in a small-town bar. And girls’ nights. And, and…” I smile at him. “Toilet papering houses. I haven’t done any of that stuff before. It’s always work and protecting the image and…” My head swims, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I had a s’more martini tonight. Wren said they were tasty, and she wassoright. Have you ever had a s’more?” He looks at me, and the very edges of his lips tip up, entertained.
“Yeah, Will, I’ve had a s’mores.”
“I haven’t. I haven’t done anything fun.” I think about all of the things that the girls yapped about while we got ready, all of the fun Hallie had planned for Emma over summer break, and the strange, nostalgic yearning I felt for things I’ve neverhad. “I’ve never had a s’more, or gone to summer camp, or had a water balloon fight. I’ve never gone peach picking or shared lipstick with my friends or gone to a town fair or, or, or…anything fun.” Feeling silly, I look down, picking at my nails. “I know. I know. It’s stupid and selfish, but I like being…normal here.”
“I don’t think that’s silly, Willa. I think it’s normal to want to be normal.” We stand in the entryway of his place for long moments, staring at one another until, eventually, he lifts a hand to the back of his neck and breaks eye contact. “Anyway. Let’s get you something to sleep in.” Then he walks off towards a room. I stand in his near-empty living room for a moment, feeling off-kilter in a way I know has nothing to do with how drunk I am, before following him. When I enter another bare room, I look around, but there’s not much to see. The only furniture is a gorgeous antique dresser he’s standing at, back to me, and a bed with dark green bedding. The walls are painted a pretty cream, and without meaning to, I start to picture ways to add pops of color, ways to fit the vision of Leo I have in my mind. All masculine lines, a classic style. Olive greens and mahogany to complement the wood of the dresser. With his back to me, I allow myself the small luxury of taking him in, his broad shoulders shifting as he digs through the drawers before turning to me.
“This should work,” he says, tossing me a shirt.
“What’s this for?”
