“You were?” he asks, sounding surprised.
“Yeah,” I confirm easily. Not sure why he’d doubt that.
He blushes slightly before turning back to face the rest of the table, and Josie is looking at me with amusement. I still haven’t moved my arm, so it’s back on his hip now. I just told myself I wasn’t going to do anything to risk our friendship. I should probably pull away and not rub my thumb against his skin as he introduces me to the people he’s with who I don’t recognize, but letting go seems nearly impossible.
“Uh, everyone, this is my friend, Will. Will, this is Carrie and her friends Paige and Elijah.” There’s a chorus of “hellos,” and I return them before everyone goes back to their own conversations. Porter turns his attention to me again. “So what were you doing before I texted you?”
“Nothing really, was just at home playing video games with Cam, Decker, and Nathan. This sounded way more fun.”
His brows draw together. “Did it?”
“Yeah, I’d prefer to hang out with you,” I answer honestly.
“Oh boyyy.” He drags the word out and sways a bit. I think the alcohol might be affecting him a little more than I realized. He looks like a helpless little kitten as he blinks up at me. I just want to wrap my arms around him and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him.
He’s still smiling at me, so I mirror his expression. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to get you a water?”
“I think I wanna go home,” he admits sleepily.
“Oh. Yeah, okay. Want me to walk you?” I offer, relieved when he nods that he still wants to spend time with me.
“Sorry,” he starts before hiccuping. “I invited you here just to basically leave.”
“It’s okay. I just wanted to see you. Now I get you all to myself,” I tease.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before turning back to his other friends. “We’re gonna leave.”
Josie smiles. “Have fun. Text me if you need me to come home. If not, I’ll just go to Carrie’s.”
“Go to Carrie’s. Love youuu,” he responds before turning around and lacing his arm through mine to pull me out of the bar.
“So glad we’re out of there,” he says with another sigh as soon as the cool spring night air hits us.
“Yeah?”
“I probably should have found someone to flirt with tonight, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. Didn’t wanna,” he rambles.
The thought of him flirting with someone else makes my stomach knot. I probably shouldn’t feel as relieved as I do by him telling me he didn’t. Especially because I haven’t figured out exactly what’s going on with my feelings for him, and he’s drunk, so tonight isn’t the night to talk about it anyway. I’m not sure how to respond, so I hum as I lead us toward his house.
“Do you like anyone?” he asks randomly.
“No, I don’t date,” I respond automatically, saying the same rehearsed line I’ve used for years.
“Why not?”
Why not? I haven’t really stopped to think about actually dating in so long. “Well, I came into college with the approach of making the most of every moment, enjoying my glory days, and I have. I guess I’ve never felt like I was missing out on anything by not tying myself to anyone. I’ve always just hooked up and moved on, which I know makes me sound shitty, but I try not to lead people on by setting that precedent first. I’m aware what I did to your friend wasn’t great, but I learned from that and never want to hurt anyone again.”
He nods, and then stumbles.
“Whoa.” I steady him, almost to his place now. “Probably agood thing we left the bar when we did. I’m glad you texted me. Do you want me to order us some food?”
He groans happily. “You’re wonderful.”
I burst out laughing. “So are you. But I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Why are you so nice to me? You’re not supposed to be this nice to me.”
“What? Why wouldn’t I be nice to you? I thought you’d realized I’m not the asshole you assumed I was freshman year,” I ask, concerned I did something to fuck things up between us yet again.
