My throat feels as dry as a rice cake. “I’m fine.”
“You’re anything but fine. Your leg is bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“Scratches don’t bleed that much.” Ten’s voice echoes around me and inside of me.
“How did you even know where I was?” I mumble.
He’s silent for a moment. “Rae texted me earlier. Invited me to stop by.”
Rae? Why? She has Harrison… If Ten had showed up, would she have made a move on him instead?
On the brink of tears, I right my bike and start rolling it away when Ten grips the handlebar.
“Angie—”
“I need to get home.”
“I’ll get you home.”
“I can’t leave my bike here.”
“We’ll put it in the car.”
“I’ll walk home,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
He mutters something under his breath, then: “Just let me give you a ride home. That’s the least you can do after… after you sprangthatquestion on me.”
Yep. I wasn’t embarrassed enough. “I don’t know why I sent that.”
“Because you’re drunk.” He wrestles the bike out of my clammy hands, then rolls it to the back of his SUV while I climb into the passenger seat.
I’m too ashamed to look at him, but not too ashamed to accept a ride. He lowers the back seats, then hoists my bike up. He attempts to close the trunk, but it doesn’t close. He pushes against my bike’s back wheel, but the door still doesn’t close.
“I guess we’re driving with the trunk open,” he says.
I unhook my helmet and place it on my lap. Cold air gushes in through the wide-open trunk. I shiver. Ten turns the heater up full blast, then begins driving. I grab ahold of the handlebar to keep my bike from falling out. The car beeps to indicate a door is open.
“What drinking game were you playing?” he asks.
Keeping my eyes on everything but his face, I say, “‘Never Have I Ever.’”
“That’s a lethal one.”
I nod.
“In what state are the others?”
“Drunk.”
“Maybe I should offer to drive them home after I drop you off.”
“I doubt they’re ready to leave.” They’re probably all making out by now.
Ten takes a right.
“That’s not where I live.”
