She invited him to a club? Figures. The two of them are reckless and impulsive. Andrea has been quite the party girl during her years at FMU.
“Alright.”
Declan gapes at me. “Excuse me?”
“He’s twenty-two years old,” I snap, “And before you say he’s not fit to go out on his own, I’ll remind you that he completed his program and passed the assessment.” I sigh, leveling with my stepfather. “He’s already missed out on enough. Let him have this.”
He looks at his son.
Cade says nothing.
His shoulders slump. “Fine. But you’re going with him.”
Safe to say, Cade was pissed. He bitched the entire drive about not needing a babysitter. How I should’ve just given him my keys—yeah, right—or at least dropped him off. I didn’t bother arguing. He’s well aware that he wouldn’t even be standing in this shithole if I hadn’t intervened.
Cade tugs on my hand.
“You’re crushing my fingers.”
Technically, I don’t need to hold his hand. I know that. And I know it could get back to Sinclair, but when we got out of the truck, I could tell he was nervous. Overwhelmed. Definitely out of his element. And maybe I was too. So I impulsively did it.He’sthe one who laced our fingers.
I loosen my grip. “Sorry… I just… don’t like crowds.”
He peers up at me like I’m a puzzle he’s intent on figuring out. Fuck, my life would be complete if he’d just look at me like that forever. I’m dying to kiss him. It’s pretty dark in here. And I have a hat on. I doubt any of the pastor’s followers are here…
“I don’t either,” he admits, checking his phone again before glancing at the people packed like sardines around the bar. “But a drink sounds pretty fucking good right now.”
“Doesn’t alcohol fuck with your meds?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. Probably.”
God, I hope I don’t regret this.
“Alright, but I’ve got three rules: No puking in the truck, no blacking out and no fighting.”
A hint of a smirk. “What if the fight is with you?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Don’t push me, Heathen.”
His shoulder bumps mine. “Oops. Pushed you.”
Is he… flirting? I think he’s flirting. And he’s still holding my hand. It’s making me feel drunk without a sip of alcohol. Shaking my head, I smile. “Come on, Troublemaker, let’s get you a cocktail.”
“Really? Acocktail?”
“That’s what they’re called.”
“For all you know, I want a beer.” He bumps my shoulder again. “I think you just wanted to say cock.”
My cheeks hurt from grinning. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His penetrating stare burns a path down the length of me, coming to rest on the half-hard bulge in my jeans.
He clicks his tongue. “You and your lies.”
I bend to his ear. “I’ll tell you a truth…”
