I laugh, thinking she’s joking around. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Or deep regret.”
I stand there silently, because I haven’t heard Lily talk like this before. I have a strange feeling that Lily knows what it’s like to want something she never let herself chase. It makes me wonder how many people settle into a muted version of life because they’re too afraid to want more.
I think she’s going to walk away, but she turns back to me, the smile from before on her face like that conversation never happened. “Do you think you can give Scottie a ride home? I mean, since she’s staying with you anyway.”
I freeze mid-wipe of the counter and give her a knowing look. “Really, Lil?”
“Uh-huh. Why would I go to the other end of town when you’re going that way anyway?”
I glance at Scottie, who’s hugging Poppy goodbye, before she walks to where Lily and I are at the bar.
“Ready?” she asks Lily.
“Actually…” Lily pauses, extending a hand toward me. “Tucker is going to take you home, if that’s okay? Since he’s going that way.”
Scottie looks at me, and her expression is unreadable.
Honestly, it’s a welcoming look. It’s not a death stare like I’m the last person she would like to get a ride home with. It does something to me I can’t quite explain.
“Sure,” she says.
I nod. “I just have to close up here. Are you okay to wait like fifteen minutes?”
“Yeah.”
She takes a seat on the barstool and pulls out her phone. I move around, closing out the last two tabs, wiping down counters, and pretending I’m not rushing just to have a reason to be near her.
By the time I’m done, the bar is empty.
When I finish up and grab everything from the kitchen, I come back out and find myself staring at her for a moment. She sits there under the low glow of the lights dangling over the bar. Her hair is loose, and she’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her.
Right now, it’s just her—no audience. The version of her that doesn’t need to perform, and god, that version wrecks me, but everything about Scottie does. The way she bites her bottom lip, the little frown when she’s thinking, and the way she looks way too good under bad lighting.
She’s supposed to be my fake girlfriend, not the reason I forget how to breathe.
“Ready?” I ask, clearing my throat and rounding to her side of the bar.
She stands from her stool and follows me wordlessly.
I lock up the front door behind me. The night air is thick and quiet, the kind of silence that makes my thoughts too loud. I open the passenger door for her, and she smiles as she slides in, crossing her legs and tugging her seat belt into place. Rounding the hood of the truck, I hop in and immediately notice her perfume everywhere. It’s something soft, like vanilla. It throwsme off kilter because it’s a smell that doesn’t match her bold lipstick and sharp words.
The engine rumbles to life, and Scottie breaks the silence. “Thank you for the ride. Is chauffeuring women home your third job?”
I turn to face her with a smirk before pulling the truck out onto the main road. “Nope. I only do it for you, Scottie.”
Even with the street lights illuminating her face every few seconds, I can see the way her cheeks flush the perfect shade of pink before she looks away quickly, like she knows I see it. It’s a simple proof that I’m not imagining the pull between us.
She clears her throat. “Is this…normal? Lily inviting people out and then dumping them on you?”
Her tone is guarded, wondering whether she misread the whole friendship she’s forming with Lily.
Shit.
I tighten the grip on the steering wheel because the last thing I want her to feel is out of place. “She’s only done it twice. And it’s not—she’s not ditching you. She has this theory.”
“About what?”
