Carly keeps going like she doesn’t even realize what she’s saying. “Like... a lot. M’sorry m’drunk in public and y’had t’come rescue me.”
I look down at her. Her eyes are closed again, face tucked into my shoulder, trusting me completely. Every part of me softens at that.“You don’t ever have to apologize for calling me, sweetheart,” I say quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She hums like she hears me, but I’m not sure she does.
By the time I get her to the car, she’s nearly asleep. I’ve truly never been so grateful for the self-opening doors on my Aston Martin. I ease her into the backseat carefully, setting her shoes on the floorboard before I help her get her legs inside. She blinks up at me, lashes heavy.
“You’re pretty,” she mumbles.
I snort. “Thank you.”
“So grumpy, though.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep, Carly.”
She smiles faintly. “Okay.”
And then, like someone flipped a switch, she’s out.
I stand there for a second, one hand on the door, making sure she’s breathing evenly before I shut it and slide back into the driver’s seat.
Relief hits me the moment I shut the door behind me.
She’s okay.
Drunk as hell, but okay.
I pull away from the curb and start the drive home, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. She’s fully laid out, dead to the world.
The city slides past outside in red, green, and white lights. My jaw starts to unclench by degrees. I’m searching my mind for what kind of greasy food I could whip up to sober her up a little so that she isn’t as hungover for the wedding tomorrow when her phone alerts in her purse on the passenger seat.
At the next red light, I slide it out of her purse, worried Aaron or Sarah or both have messaged her.
But it’s a text from a number that isn’t saved.The preview shows on her lockscreen.Hi Carly, good news. The apartment is ready a little…
I stare at it.Apartment?
A horn blares behind me, and I jerk my attention back to the road, pulse suddenly thudding for an entirely different reason.
At the next light, I pick up the phone.
I know I shouldn’t.I know exactly how shitty it is.But curiosity gets its hooks in and sinks them deep.
I open the message.
Hi Carly, good news. The apartment is ready a little early.Cleaning is finished, you can move in anytime. Lease is finalized, just let me know when you want the keys.
For a second, I don’t understand what I’m looking at.
I read it again.And again. Then drop the phone.
Lease is finalized.
Move in anytime.
The apartment is ready.
Something cold slides down my spine.
