“So much fun!” she slurs, eyes shining with genuine happiness. “Thank you for inviting me, Kaden. I fucking love your friends.”
A loud chuckle escapes me. This girl is totally wasted. “I’m certain they love you too.”
She lets out an adorable giggle, and I can’t help but want to squeeze her cheeks—and maybe steal a quick kiss on those soft, plump lips. But I won’t, not when she’s like this.
We start our dance, me slowly bopping to the beat while Hope’s movements grow sultrier, and more seductive. She spins around, pressing her back against my chest, and as she sways and grinds against me, pressure instantly builds low in my stomach. I’m sweating beneath my shirt, and it’s not from the dancing.
Hope dips low, then rises again, reaching behind her and looping my arms around her stomach. We move in perfect sync, my face buried in the crook of her neck, while her hand lifts above her before threading into the back of my hair.
To anyone watching, we probably look like any other couple on the dance floor, completely absorbed in each other.
She turns her head slightly, our mouths so close I can almost taste the alcohol on her lips. And how easy would it be to capture them with mine. But then she turns away, pausing to press her fingers to her temples.
“Are you okay?” I ask, as I gently turn her around to face me.
She groans and keeps massaging her temples, her eyes closing, like she could fall asleep at any moment.
“I think I drank too much. Everything is spinning so fast.”
“I think it’s time I get you home, yeah?”
Her eyes fly open, and she gives a little whine. “Aww, do we have to? I’m having so much fun.”
“I know you are, beautiful, but you’re also very drunk. You’re going to wake up tomorrow hating life and wishing for death.”
“You’re probably right,” she lets out a tired sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”
I lace my fingers with hers, and then, we go around saying our goodbyes, thanking Chris and Gemma once more for having us. We all promise to get together again soon, and that makes Hope genuinely smile.
As we leave the apartment, I circle my arm around her, holding her close so she leans against me. Judging by the way she’s swaying and almost tripping over her feet, there’s no way she’d make it back to the car on her own without risking a fall.
On the way out of the building, she mumbles something about never drinking again, but wants to party every second weekend. She even curses Adrian a few times for being the reason why she never had any real fun.
I have to bite back a laugh because she’s talking absolute gibberish.
When we finally exit the building, I feel her body grow heavy against me, as if she’s struggling to stay on her feet.
Without hesitation, I lift her into my arms and carry her the rest of the way to the car, and she lets me, her arm going around my neck for support.
Once she’s securely settled in the passenger seat, she immediately rests her head against the window, eyes closing as I turn the ignition on.
“Alright, party girl, let’s get you home and tucked into bed.”
She releases another groan, and I can tell she’s minutes away from passing out.
Nearly twenty minutes later, the truck eases into her driveway, the street swallowed by darkness and peaceful quiet. When I glance at Hope, she’s fast asleep, soft little snores slipping from her lips, and I have to suppress a smile.
“Hope, sweetheart,” I whisper softy, brushing strands of hair from her face. “You’re home now.”
She stirs in her seat, her eyes cracking open for a brief second before sliding shut again. “Let me sleep,” she groans, displeased at being woken too soon.
“As much as I’d love to camp out here in the car with you, you need some proper sleep… and a few glasses of water.”
“Why are you yelling?” she grumbles, and I have to smother a chuckle. She’s so adorably out of it, and I’m taking great pleasure just watching her.
“I’m not yelling, Hope. Your senses are just a little heightened from all that alcohol swirling in your system. Now, come on, Jack Sparrow, it’s time to hit the hay.”
I climb out and round the truck to the passenger side, careful not to startle her as I open the door. She sits up slowly, struggling with the seatbelt, pulling at the strap without unbuckling it. I reach over and take care of it for her, unableto ignore how close she is, or the soft warmth of her breath along my neck.
