“Willow said you needed a ride home.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. Does she not want me here? Then she starts to sway, and I step forward, wrapping my arm around her shoulders to support her. “And it looks like you had a good time.”
Her head falls onto my shoulder as she lets out a soft giggle. “I did. I feel good, Dan. Really good. For the first time in a long time.”
I want so badly to ask her if that’s because she’s ending it with Baron, but now’s not the time. Not when she can barely stand up on her own. “Okay, Birdie. Let’s get you home.”
I steer her over toward my car, waving goodbye to Ronan who’s loading the other two into his car.
As I pull out of the parking lot, I make a snap decision to take her back to my place. It’s closer than hers, and if she’s had as much to drink as I think she has, the sooner I get some water into her and get her horizontal, the better. “Hey, Lark, we’re gonna go to my place, okay? You can sleep it off there, so I can keep an eye on you.”
“Mm-hmm,” is her only reply, and I glance over to see her leaning against the window, her eyes closed.
A couple of minutes later, soft snores fill the car.
When I pull into my parking stall, Lark is still asleep, her head against the headrest. I sit there for a couple of minutes, watching her. Is it creepy to watch her sleep? Maybe, but I can’t help it. She’s so damn pretty, and seeing her so relaxed and peaceful with me, knowing she trusts me enough to get her home safely, to fall asleep in my presence, it does something to me. I like being the guy she can rely on. No, I love it. I’ve witnessed my parents’ love over the years, and this is what it’s like for them. They know, without a doubt, they’re safe with each other. I’ve seen my dad climb a ladder with my mom holding the bottom. I’ve watched my mom care for my dad when he’s sick, and my dad do everything for my mom after she had surgery a few years ago. Their love, their support, their trust. That’s what I want for myself.
That’s what I wantwith Lark.
Quietly, I open my door, closing it just as softly before going around to her side. This part will be a bit more tricky, but I manage to open the door, reaching in to unbuckle her. Then, using the muscles honed over years of being a catcher, I squat down and scoop her into my arms, lifting her out of the car.
“Dan?” she mumbles, her head lifting.
“Shh, it’s okay, Birdie. I got you,” I whisper back. And her head falls against my shoulder, her arms winding around my neck.
“Always,” she whispers against my skin, and my goddamn heart stutters in my chest.
“Yeah, always.”
Somehow, I manage to lock my car, and then I carry her overto the elevator. Thank God for automatic opening doors. The elevator is empty the whole way up to my apartment. But that’s where it gets tricky. My keys are in my hand, and even though my arms are starting to feel the strain of carrying her for this long, I get the door unlocked and open without smacking her head against it.
Go me.
Once inside, I carry her straight down the hall to my bedroom and set her down on my bed. Good thing I never bother to make it in the morning, so the blankets are already pulled down. Eyeing her outfit, I decide against trying to get her into something else. Until, that is, her eyes blink open, and she pushes her way to sitting.
“Where are we?”
“My place,” I say, walking over to my dresser and pulling out a T-shirt and some shorts. “If you want to change, here you go. Sleep it off and I’ll take you home in the morning.”
She rubs her face and gives me a small smile. “Thanks.” Her mouth opens in an adorable yawn that morphs into a hiccup. “Oh my God.” She moans. “Too much wine.”
I chuckle and move into my kitchen to fill a glass with water and grab her some painkillers. When I get back to my bedroom, I freeze in the doorway. Her back is to me, but she’s taken off her clothes, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black panties.
Whipping around, I clear my throat. “I’ve got some water for you.”
“Oh!” I hear her soft sound of surprise, then the rustle of fabric. “I’m decent.”
Turning around slowly, I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.Decent? She’s wearing my shirt, and the shorts are still on the bed beside her. Which means she has nothing else on underneath except those black panties.
I don’t dare step any closer, simply extend my arm with the glass of water. She closes the distance and takes it.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll be on the couch.”
Her head slowly nods. “You’re a good friend, Dan Montgomery.”
“Yeah,” I say, the word coming out hoarse. “Sure.”
As I turn to go lick my wounds over that goddamn wordfriend, her hand darts out and grabs my wrist. I twist back around, and she lifts up onto her toes, her lips brushing my cheek gently, too fast for me to register what she’s doing until she’s stepping back with a soft smile.
