“Damn it, Abby,” Brady mumbled roughly as his hands found my waist, steading me and keeping me from tipping into the side of the giant blue trash can.
Just as quickly, Brady pulled away, stepping back and mumbling out an apology.
I frowned, annoyed that I was once again in his proximity and that he’d crashed into me. “Watch it, Judd.”
Brady glared at his snickering friends before holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Mac. That wasn’t intentional.” Then, with one last parting scowl for Abby and Jase, Brady turned and headed toward the parking lot.
I stared after him in confusion. He wasn’t really going to drive? The drunk ass hadjuststaggered into me.
In stunned dismay, I watched as Brady ambled away. He then reached into his vest pocket and produced a set of keys.
Turning to his still-amused friends, I demanded, “You’re not just going to let him drive home, are you?”
Abby waved me away. “He’s fine.”
My eyes bulged. “Clearly, he’s not.”
“Surely you’re not worried Brady might hurt himself?” Abby’s dark eyes sparkled.
“No,” I protested. “He could kill someone else, though. That idiot would probably walk away without a scratch.” I glanced back to see Brady winding his way through the cars parked next to the barn.
Returning my gaze to Abby and Jase, I asked, “You’re really not going to stop him?”
Jase shook his head, and Abby grinned, unrepentant.
“Cole Abernathy, you are responsible for whatever happens next.” Then I turned and took off toward the sea of vehicles, already regretting my decision and my unfortunate morals.
“Oh, I hope so!” he shouted after me.
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.
Brady was just reaching for the door handle of his truck when I jogged up behind him.
“Hey,” I called, and he turned automatically. Obvious surprise had his brows going high on his forehead. Yeah, well, I couldn’t believe I was chasing him down either.
“You can’t just drive in your condition,” I said before he had a chance to speak. “I saw you drinking—my ciders, by the way—all night. You should go back to the bonfire. Make Jase or Abby take you home.”
Brady ignored all the important parts of my speech and replied with a dopey smile, “Been keeping an eye on me, have you?”
I sighed in aggravation. I hadn’t been watching Brady, not really. I’d just ... noticed him occasionally, over the course of several hours. He was loud and distracting. It wasn’t my fault I’d looked in his annoying direction and happened to see a bottle in his hand every time.
“Will you just go give your friends your keys?”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
We watched each other. Me glaring, and Brady smirking.
I did not want to insert myself into this situation, and I didn’t see why I had to be the responsible one here.
“Give me your phone,” I said, holding out my hand.
Brady straightened and reached into his front pocket. “Why? Want to give me your number?”
“No, I’m going to call your sister, you idiot.”
He released his cell, and I watched it disappear back into his jeans pocket. “Hmm, I don’t think so.”
“Brady,” I groaned, overwhelmed by irritation. I didn’t want to spend my valuable free time arguing with him. I wanted to drive home and go to sleep. I had to work in the morning.
