Page 27 of The F*ck-It List

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit and look back to him for some help. But he just shakes his head again.

“Nope, not this time, buddy. You got yourself into this, you get yourself out. I’m on Team Bea.”

Well, that stings.

“But you know, actions speak louder than words and right now. I think she could probably use a little help getting home.”

I frown at Bea, now snoring on the bar top. “Uh…I don’t know what I’m meant to do with that.” I gesture toward her.

Eli grunts like a bull looking at the giant red flag I clearly am right now. “What any decent red-blooded man would do with a drunk, vulnerable woman, August.” I raise a brow at him. “Take her back to her place, get her inside, maybe help her to her room, make sure she’s comfortable, and leave.”

I grumble because dealing with drunk people is hell, but I don’t argue because I’ve already been well and truly scolded and should probably start making amends. Standing, I wake Darcy and he’s up on all four feet, looking slightly dazed, and I head over to Bea, casting a shadow over her sleeping form. She cracks one eye open to look up at me.

“Are you here to yell at me?” she asks, all sad and pathetic and my heart mocks me with a tight squeeze.

“No,” I say, not particularly kindly.

“Are you mad at me?” she warbles.

“No.” I sigh, trying to hold on to my patience with both hands. “Come on, sunshine, I’m taking you home.”

She sits up too fast, judging by the way she tilts on her stool, and gives three exaggerated blinks up at me. “You are?”

“Yeah, come on.” I gently wrap my hand around her upper arm to help her down from the stool and let out a relieved breath when she doesn’t flinch from my touch. Stumbling a bit when her feet hit the floor, I help to pull her upright and we’re standing chest to stomach, close enough her breasts press lightly to my upper abdomen. Her head is tilted right back to look at me, bright blue eyes shining with the tears she cried while telling Eli about all the shit she’s dealing with. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are tinged pink and wetness clings to her lashes. For the first time, I notice a tiny mole under her left eye, just under her lower lashes. Fuck, she’s beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to me, and I fight the urge to brush her pink hair back from where it’s stuck to her cheek.

“For what?” I croak, holding steady.

“Whatever I did that made you hate me.” She’s like Bambi in headlights, all round eyes, surprised and scared of the beast in front of her.

I shake my head. “You didn’t do anything. I’m just an arsehole.”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a sigh and my mouth tips up.

“Let’s go.” I step away from her, giving us both a little breathing room, and she takes a couple smaller steps, testing her drunken feet. “You okay?”

“Yep,” she says, straightening her shoulders and moving toward me again before spinning too suddenly, making me reach out as if to catch her, but she manages to stay upright as she speaks to Eli. “Oh, I didn’t pay for my wine!”

He smiles at her with a wink. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll settle up another time, just get yourself feeling better.”

She grins at him a little dopily and turns back to me. I’m thrown off a little when she grabs my arm for balance, and we walk out into the cool evening air together. Darcy skips happily on my other side, his lead hanging loosely between us. We walk in silence, kind of slowly as Bea’s strides are shorter than mine and she’s clearly concentrating very hard on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Eurgh, I’m starving,” she groans. “I want scrambled eggs.”

Okay, not sure what to say to that.

“Ilovescrambled eggs,” she sighs dreamily. “Sometimes I just eat them straight out of the pan, you know?”

I do not know.

“Maybe I should make some eggs,” she continues, unbothered by my lack of response. “I’m sure my jeans would just love that.”

“You think your jeans have emotions?” I ask sceptically.

“These ones do,” she grumbles. “They’re clearly spiteful little bitches…bitch? Plural?” She turns her head up to me in question, like I have any thought on the matter.

“Uh, here we are,” I say gruffly as we reach her front door.