“And then he ordered me red wine,” she gags, and I stifle the laugh in my chest.
“You hate wine.” The words slip out before I can stop them, but her smile is back. She stares at me, not through me, and it makes my ears get hot.Please stop.“Firefighter?” I keep my voice light. “What’s his last name?” I try to distract her from the fact that I know exactly what she likes to drink, and it’s never been red wine.
“Tenley, I think?” She sighs.
“Sounds pretentious,” I mutter. I hadn’t heard the name, which only means that if he works with Kaia, he’s a new face. One I had the urge to hit.Reel it in Brighton. Friends don’t feel like this.She can take care of herself.Sure, that’s why you sped all the way to the restaurant.
She shifts in her seat at the sound, and it takes everything in me not to snap when she props her dirty shoes on my leather seat. “Yeah! You know what he said to me?” She shakes her head, and the smell of her shampoo floods my nose.
“What?” I ask, just to keep her talking.
“He called me high maintenance!” she scoffs, “Me?”
“I mean… You did make me drive half an hour across town,” I say, and her expression hardens.
“I called for Sunday. It’s not my fault you came!” she cries out and crosses her arms.
“Why didn’t you just take a cab?” I ask her, turning onto the next street, and she loses her balance a little.
“Do you know how many women get assaulted in cabs?” she grumbles, and her bottom lip juts out.
“Says the woman who was crying on the curb in the dark.” I clear my throat with a smirk on my face.
“Not the same thing,” she argues.
“Sure, yeah,” I nod.
“It doesn’t matter. I should have just gotten a cab. I’d rather disappear forever than suffer the shame that is my best friend’s brotherturned roommate,” she says like it’s an insult, “picking me up from a bad date downtown only for him to scold me all the way home.” She throws her hands through her hair and rests her head against the seat of the car.
“Day was called into work,” I tell her.
“Oh,” she says, prying one eye open to look at me.
“And I’m not scolding you,” I say with a scowl, “you should just be more careful.”
“I bench press more than most of the guys on your team. I would have been okay,” she brushes me off, and I can’t argue; she probably does, and it’s probably pretty impressive.
“You didn’t even bring a purse or whatever,” I point out.
“I thought you weren’t scolding.” She pushes back as the song changes to something she knows, and a tiny squeal leaves her throat as she leans over and turns the sound up. I stop grilling her for information but make a mental note of his name so that I can ask Kaia about the guy later, knowing her, the second she finds out he abandoned Rhea on the side of the road, she’ll have him strung up by his balls, but… I also need to know.
She sings to herself as the lights illuminate those sad eyes with each passing mile back to the Hollow. Part of me wants to just keep driving her around because between the music and the movement, she seems to be calming down a little, but I see the bright red sign of the Hollow up the street, and so does she.
“Hey,” I say, pulling the truck to the curb just outside with the intention of driving it around the block after I let her out. She unbuckles her seatbelt and stares at me with her fingers wrapping around the handle. “Tonight wasn’t your fault. And any guy who treats you like that isn’t worth your time.” I aim for friendly, a big brother talking to his little sister's friend. Her head tilts slightly, and the softest smile she’s ever given me forms on her mouth.Atta boy, that definitely worked the way you wanted it to.
“Thanks for the ride, Brighton.”
“Bright,” I correct automatically, and she just slips from the car without another word.
I drive around the block four times before deciding to rejoin society, but my mind still lingers on her heartbroken expression sitting on that curb as I walk back into the Hollow. She’s in the back booth with Cosy and Kaia, her face buried in an espresso martini, and it brings a small flicker of satisfaction to my chest knowing that she found comfort.Whether it’s her friends… or the drink I stupidly, selfishly named after her.
I pull out my phone and text Kaia.
Who is he?
Kaia looks up, scans the bar, and lands on me with a sick, vicious smile, and I know that she’s having the same thoughts I am.
Ihaul the boxes of cat food from the back seat of the Bronco and into the shelter. “Where am I putting these?” I ask Cosy, who’s behind the counter.
