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“Whatever you want, babe!”
“Alright, let’s do it.”
Kerry orders us two shots each, and I scan the bar again. I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking, so I know that I’ll be tipsy after I finish the shots and cosmopolitan. I’ll need to pace myself so that I’m not drunk soon.
That’s what I tell myself, but somewhere over the next hour and a few more shots I’m swaying in the center of the dancefloor. I feel light and bubbly, and I grin up at the disco ball as the song changes to something slower.
I close my eyes and picture Beau behind me, swaying with me to the music. Pain lances through me, and I blink my eyes open.
At first, I think I’m drunk or dreaming when I see Beau headed my way. I squeeze my eyes shut, but he's still there when I blink them back open.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, and he frowns down at me.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m hanging out with Kerry,” I tell him.
“I’m here to take you home.”
“That’s okay. I’ll ride home with Kerry.”
“Your brother has Kerry. She’s been drinking, so there’s no way he’s letting her behind the wheel.”
Sure enough, when I glance over at the bar, I see Kerry and Charlie standing there talking. She glances at me and gives me a thumbs-up. I return the gesture and then nod.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
We head outside, and I follow behind Charlie and Kerry over to his truck.
“I’ll take you, Lena,” Beau says, and I shake my head.
“No, I’ll just go with them. No sense in both of you heading to our apartment.”
“I need to talk to you,” he insists.
Charlie glances between us and then back to Kerry. When she wanders over to her car, Charlie races after her and steers her over to his truck.
“We’ll meet you at home!” He calls to us, and I groan as I turn and head to Beau’s truck.
He opens the door for me and helps me into the passenger seat. He climbs behind the wheel, and I see him glance at me out of the corner of my eye, but I refuse to meet his eyes.
“Lena,” he starts, and I look at him.
“Why are you out drinking? This isn’t you.”
“I was trying to meet someone.”
“Who?” He snaps.
“Someone new.”
He frowns and I look out the side window. He starts the truck and we head down the street to my apartment.
“Lena, we should talk about… this morning.”
“There’s nothing to say. It was all in the letter. I’ve always loved you, but you don’t feel the same, so I’m going to move on now that I know that.”
His hands tighten on the steering wheel, but I’m determined not to read too much into his actions.
