“Hold on.” He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and dialed.
“Max! What’s up? Did you get Lisa home?” a woman’s voice shouted from the phone’s screen.
"Yes, but she's completely wasted, and some guy is saying he's her neighbor, and he wants to take care of her. Do you know this guy?"
“Is he tall, non-melanated, and gorgeous with shiny dark hair and stormy blue eyes?” she asked.
I felt a small puff of pride, knowing she could have only gotten that description from Lisa. I laughed at her use of the termnon-melanated. My aunt Patrice was the only other person I’ve heard use that descriptor.
“I wouldn’t describe him that way, but I guess.”
“Are you Sasha?” I took a step forward and yelled into Max’s outstretched hand.
"Yes, I am. Are you Cole?"
“Yeah.”
“Max, she’s good. Cole, take care of my girl. She cannot hold her liquor.”
“Tell him if he hurts our Lisa, I’m gonna cut his dick off,” another female voice chimed in.
“Did you hear that?” Sasha said with a chuckle.
"I did." I stepped forward, laid Lisa's arm across my shoulders, and slid my arm under her knees to hoist her up.
"Thanks, Max. We're hanging up," Sasha called through the phone.
“Hey, thanks, man.” I nodded at him. “Sorry about earlier.”
"It's cool. Just take care of Lisa, okay?"
I nodded again and turned towards my stoop.
“Am I being kidnapped?” Lisa mumbled against my shoulder and tightened her arms around my neck.
“Yes.” I laughed as I pushed the front door closed with my foot. “I’m kidnapping you.”
“Oh, noooo,” she moaned as I carried her upstairs to my room. “My mom will be so mad.”
In the bedroom, I whipped the covers back on my bed. I carefully lowered Lisa onto the mattress before tucking her in.
“I’m gonna get you some water and some ibuprofen. Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m really sleepy and thirsty.”
I swept her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ll be right back.”
CJ was still fast asleep when I walked down the hall to check on him. I stroked his cheek with the back of my index finger. I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, the ibuprofen, and a pack of some sugar-free, gluten-free baby crackers. I also made a mental note to keep stuff in the house that Lisa can eat.
She was still awake when I returned to my room, and I set the food and the Advil on the nightstand.
“Do you have something I can sleep in? These jeans are really tight.”
I didn’t answer her, but I grabbed one of my Harvard t-shirts and a pair of boxers from my dresser and handed them to her.
“Can you help me?” She’d pulled off the covers and fumbled with the hem of her shirt.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded. After sitting next to Lisa on the bed, I slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Then, I pulled it over her shoulders and down her arms. Next, I pulled the t-shirt over her head. She slid her arms into the sleeves, and the shirt fell over her torso. She leaned back on the bed so I could unbutton her jeans and tug them over her hips.
