He turns to the TV with the remote in hand, turning it off. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll drive.”
“What?”
He grabs his keys from the kitchen worktop, guiding me out the door with his palm pressed against the small of my back. “Get in,” he orders, unlocking the Ranger.
“Thanks.” I was gonna drive myself, but seeing as he offered, I’ll be able to have a drink.
“Who’s Yaz?” The questions start as we pull off the gravel driveway.
“She’s a girl I work with. She invited me.” I shoot a text to Yaz, telling her I’m on my way.
“Who else are you meeting?”
“I dunno. Her friends. People do have friends, you know. You should try it sometime.”
It doesn’t take long to arrive outside an old traditional country pub with a rusty swing sign hanging above the large door.
“Shall I call you when I want picking up or what?”
Kane parks the ranger. “No need. Just come and tell me.” He gets out of the vehicle with a smirk on his face.
I jump down and slam the door. “I don’t need a chaperone.”
“Never said you did. I’m gonna have a drink with friends. I have friends, you know. I’ve just been busy looking after your ass.”
The Ranger beeps behind me, locking the doors and he strolls up to the wooden door and opens it for me. I give him a side eye as I walk through, clenching my back teeth. There are two doors left and right. The traditional layout, one side being more quiet and the other for the live band with a drum kit in the bay window.
“Glad you came,” Yaz shouts from a square table off to the side.
I give her a wave and signal to the bar with a pretend drink in hand.
Kane’s already there. “What you having?”
“Strawberry Daiquiri, please.”
Kane laughs along with the bartender.
I pull my eyebrows inwards. “What’s so funny?”
“You city folk. You won’t get that round here.” He turns to the bartender. “Pint, mate, and she’ll have half a lager?”
“Fine.”
“Add a shot of blackcurrant in there too, mate.”
I tut. “I’m not twelve.” Muttering a painful thanks, I grip my drink and walk to Yaz’s table.
She actually smiles at me, along with two other girls and three guys, all dressed for a funeral. With the cobwebs in the corner of this place, they fit in well.
“Letty, this is Chlo, Teirney, Marcus, Charlie, and Toby.” She points to each person as she says their name and I smile.
“Sup.”
Charlie leans over the table, whispering, “Did Kane Harding just buy you your drink? He never buys anyone a drink. He must be after something.”
Yaz kicks him under the table, bugging her eyes at him. “It’s her dad, moron.”
He spits his beer back into his pint. “Shit. I meant no offence. Please don’t say I said anything.”
