The last word turned into a yell as he stepped toward me, intending to clap me on the shoulder for my win, then his feet went sideways. He didn’t fall, but he did tumble forward, throwing his arms out. Beer jetted out of his plastic cup—and drenched Ingrid’s head and torso.
The effect was instant.
Her pink top turned sheer, clinging to her breasts, outlining her bra, her cleavage.
The onlookers gasped.
Amber and May shrieked with laughter.
And Ingrid—my poor, sweet Ingrid—went still before bolting like a terrified deer, trying to yank the hoodie tight around herself.
The friends of the guy who’d hurled his drink all over Ingrid grabbed to steady him. “You idiot!” said one.
“Nice rack though…” slurred another.
I wanted to break his skull open.Wanted to end him right there in front of everyone—make him regret ever breathing in her direction.
But finding Ingrid mattered more.
“You’re lucky you’re not a dead man,” I growled at the big guy. Then I was off, pushing through the departing crowds after Ingrid.
I caught her just outside of the door. She was running blindly, drawing even more eyes.
“Ingrid!” I called. “Wait!”
She didn’t stop. But I was bigger, faster, and I caught hold of her. I pulled her around—she tried to fight, pulling away. Tears filled her eyes. She’d clutched my hoodie tight around herself, shielding her body. I helped by pulling her in close, wrapping my arms tight to still her.
“Ssh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She sobbed, voice trembling, “Just—just let me go home.”
“I’m just trying to help you, doll. Will you let me?”
She resisted for a second… then went limp, collapsing into me like she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.
“O-OK,” she sniffed.
I led her back inside—past the thinning crowd, past the gawking men—and into the locker room. It was empty, thank God.
I settled her on a bench. “Hang on,” I said quietly.
At my locker, I pulled out the grey tracksuit I’d worn earlier and grabbed my towel.
I knelt beside her.
She was shaking.
Stooping down beside her, I pulled at the hoodie I’d lent her. She looked nervous, biting her lip.
“You’re wet,” I said. “Night like this, you’ll freeze if you don’t change.”
She searched my eyes for a long moment, then gave a tremulous nod. Timidly, she allowed me to pull my soiled hoodie down her shoulders.
Keeping my gaze locked on hers so she knew I wasn’t looking anywhere else, I lifted the drenched pink top over her head and set it aside. She snatched the towel immediately, covering her chest as she dabbed herself dry.
“C-can I have the hoodie, please?” she stammered, nodding to the grey fabric on the bench.
I passed it to her. “It’s a little sweaty, sorry.”
