“Stan, I need to take her home.”
“Just read it for me.”
Lucy looks up at me. I can see her trying not to laugh. Her eyes are still soft, her mouth is still pink, and she is, at this moment,the only person in this house I want to be looking at. Stanley is forty seconds into making it impossible.
“Read it, Reeve.”
“Christ, Ermington.”
“Just read it for the people in the back to hear.”
Lucy raises her eyebrows at me like she’s interested to see what happens.
I mutter, “Rule number one. No falling in love before the draft.”
“Lucy,” Stan turns to her. She looks up at him. “My man Reeve here is going to be in the first round. He does not need a distraction, however lovely the distraction may be, and I mean this as a compliment—”
“Stan.”Fuck.
He continues, “He does not need a distraction. Hawthorne House has five important rules. The rules exist for a reason.”
“For God’s sake, Ermington, we are just hanging out.”
“No, Reeve. You took her to your bedroom and kept her all for yourself for God knows how long. We arehanging outdown here. That—” he points at the couch with the freshman face down on it “—is hanging out. That is what hanging out looks like.”
I shrug his arm off. “She has to get home.” I put my hand on the small of Lucy’s back and steer her around Stanley toward the back door.
“Listen to the Hawthorne House rules, Reeve, and nobody gets hurt.”
I flip him off over my shoulder and put my hand around the back of Lucy’s neck very gently to keep her moving. I get her through the kitchen and out the back door and down the steps and around the side of the house to my truck. The cold hits us at the same time.
“Jesus. I’m sorry about Stanley.”
I unlock the passenger door and open it for her. She climbs up into the seat. The truck is freezing. I get in the driver’s side and start the engine. I crank the heat.
“You didn’t need to drive me,” she says softly.
“It’s no problem,” I mutter. Did she think I would make her walk alone? Christ, what kind of guy does she think I am?
I pull out of the spot and drive. We drive in silence for a minute, and I hear myself saying, “I meant what I said.” I need her to know that I meant it. I didn’t just say it because we were fucking. I want to keep her around. I don’t want whatever this is between us to be a secret.
“Really?” she asks quietly, finally looking over at me. When her eyes meet mine, I feel like driving her home right now was the worst idea I’ve ever offered in my life.
“Yes,” I say, turning back to the road. The drive is short, only a few minutes. When I park in front of her place, I get out and open her door. “Want me to walk you up?”
She shakes her head. “Your sister’s asleep up there.”
“Don’t worry about her, alright? She’ll get over it.” I look at my hands. “I’m sure she has told you about Madeline.”
“A long time ago. Once. Yeah.”
I look at her. “This is not the same, Lucy.” I nod. “I really like you.”
“Okay.”
“Like — really fucking like you, baby.”
She blushes. “Okay. Goodnight, Benson.”
