Why should he? He’s single and can be with whomever he pleases, whenever he pleases.
I just don’t have to be around to watch.
It’s freezing. I’m fucking freezing my ass off because I didn’t want to search for Brinley to get my car keys. Because if I did, she’d try to pry and find out why I’m already leaving the party. But I should’ve taken the risk because I’m not dressed for this weather.
Not to mention the lighting on these streets is terrible, and I have no way to defend myself if someone were to jump out of one of these bushes. Or a car could just—
Shit. There’s a car behind me.
“Just keep going,” I whisper, and I don’t know if I’m talking to myself or the car. The car slows down as it approaches. “Shit.”
“What are you doing?”
I know that voice. It takes me a second, but I know that voice. I turn to see an open window and Declan stretching his head as far over as possible.
“I could ask you the same question,” I respond, but I keep walking. “Driving up on girls walking alone in the dark is how you get the cops called on you.”
“And being that girl walking alone in the dark is how you get killed,” he argues. “Get in. I’ll drive you home.”
“If I get in the car, I’m playing into the stereotype that girls are stupid when it comes to an attractive guy.”
“You think I’m attractive.” I don’t have to see his face to know there’s a smirk on it.
“You know who was also attractive?” I ask. “Ted Bundy. I know better than to get in your car.”
“I don’t think girls just hopped into Ted Bundy’s car. They would help him put stuff in his car because he was ‘injured.’ That was his lure,” he responds. “And they didn’t know him personally; you know me.”
“Do I?”
“Okay, why are we back to this?” he asks.
“It’s a nice night; I feel like walking,” I lie. “That’s why I don’t want to get in the car.”
Truth?It’s cold as hell, but the second I get in that car and the heat radiates off his body, I’ll throw myself at him. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Or for what comes after that.
I keep going, but I stop when I don’t hear the car anymore. He gave up that easily? That’s not like him. I turn to see if he is heading back to his place, but instead, I see a parked car and a dark figure shutting the door.
He catches up to me in seconds.
“What are you doing?”
“You said you wanted to walk,” he replies. “I’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”
“Okay,” I mumble.
“However, it would’ve been nice to know ahead of time because I would’ve brought a better jacket.”
“At least you have one.” I laugh. “This jersey isn’t doing much to keep me warm.”
“Is that a Rhodes jersey?” he wonders, staring at the sleeves. “I don’t know how I didn’t realize it sooner.”
“Yeah,” I respond. “Dylan Rhodes was my favorite player when I was a kid.”
“Was?”
“He still is,” I continue. “The way he knows every move before it’s made. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Rhodes is a pretty awesome player,” he replies. “I looked up to him when I started getting serious.”
