“Yes.”
“You looked uncomfortable.” Tristan’s deep voice instantly sets me at ease. And that’s ridiculous.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly.
The song ends, and he walks me back over to the table where my two best friends and Jimmy are standing, staring at us with varying expressions of confusion and surprise.
“You girls should head out,” Tristan says when we get there.
Suzanne blinks, and then Mary Lou shakes her head. “We should, but we just bought another round.”
I plop down in my chair, my legs feeling like they can no longer hold my weight. Between the handsy guy and then having a fifteen-second slow dance with Tristan—I’m overloaded.
And I can feel the way his strong arms protected me. The anger in his voice at the idea of my discomfort.
Jimmy coughs a laugh. “As much as I hate to say it, I think Tristan is right. You guys are a bit tanked, and the guys here are all a bunch of assholes. Why don’t we all head out?”
“Oh, Officer Langston, we’ll only go if you promise to put us under arrest.” Suzanne lifts her wrists in front of her with more excitement than she’s shown all night.
“For what?”
She shrugs. “Public endoscopy.”
I laugh. “You meaninfrequency!”
Mary Lou shakes her head. “No, no, she meansillegally.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” I ask, my head resting on my fist. “Being illegal.”
“Not yet,” Jimmy says with a brow raised. “How are you three getting home?”
I look to Mary Lou and Suzanne. “Aww crap.”
The two of them laugh. “We didn’t pick straws.”
Maybe we did. I think we did. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be the sober one. “Oops, I drank.”
Mary Lou burps and then covers her mouth. “That wasn’t me.”
“It so was,” Suzanne says with a giggle and then drops her head to the table. “Ouch. That table is hard.”
Jimmy lets out a deep sigh. “I’ll drive you all home.”
“Will you cuff us first?” Suzanne again.
“What’s with you and the cuffs?”
Just then, the deep, sexy voice that haunts me says, “I’ll drive Lark. She’s on my way. Mary Lou and Suzanne are on the other side of town, where you’re heading anyway.”
Oh. No. God, this can’t be. I can’t do another car ride with Tristan—especially not drunk.
Chapter 9
Lark
Mary Lou’s eyes widen. “You’re Tristan and that’sLark.” Then she cups her hands around her mouth but forgets to actually lower her voice. “She’s a Gatlin.”
I look up, and Tristan rolls his eyes. “I’m aware. I promise not to hurt your friend. I just saved her from that asshole who was trying to get in her pants.”
