Page 30

“I’m—”

She starts to laugh. “Oh my God, your face! I’m kidding! I mean, not about the dead part. He’s extremely dead. But he wasn’t drunk driving.”

I wait another minute just to make sure this isn’t a joke too. “Drew, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hitches a shoulder, leaning back to close her eyes again. “It was a long time ago.”

I turn toward the Halekulani at last, feeling slightly ill and thinking about Sloane’s quiet warning the other day—She’s messy—and knowing there was some merit to it. Reaching beneath the surface with Drew is like reaching blindly into broken glass. But the way she’s so cavalier at times, the way she acts as if nothing matters, it also seems like resilience, like the thing you’d do if you thought caring would destroy you. It worries me but I admire it at the same time.

I pull up to the valet and open her door. If it was up to me, I’d just carry her upstairs, but just because I didn’t recognize her earlier today doesn’t mean other people won’t. I place a hand on her shoulder to wake her, leaning over to unbuckle her seatbelt.

Her long lashes slowly flutter open, and suddenly our faces are inches apart and we’re way too close. My gaze dips to her mouth before I can stop myself. I imagine leaning closer, pressing my lips to hers, and for a moment there’s something in her eyes saying she’d let me.

Fuck. I’m imagining taking advantage of my brother’s drunk girlfriend. It’s got to be a new low.

I take a step backward. “Can you walk? I can carry you, but I’m worried someone will take a picture.”

“I’m invisible now,” she says in a stage whisper. I think they probably heard her one town over.

I laugh to myself. “Yes, super invisible.” I help her out of the Jeep and wrap my arm around her. She can’t walk a straight line even with my help, so we cut through to the pool area, where it’s dark and vacant, rather than go through the lobby.

“Are we going to swim?” she asks, giggling.

I scoop her up like a child. “No, I’m just trying to get you to the room without witnesses. Do you have your key?”

She shakes her head no, resting her head against my shoulder and then she sniffs my shirt. And sniffs again. “You always smell so fucking good,” she says. There’s a hint of a groan to her voice and my body reacts before I can stop it.

“I need to be bathed in boiling water,” she adds.

“Man, you get weird when you’re drunk,” I say, but I’m smiling. “I didn’t expect that about you.”

“You just thought I’d be all sleazy, didn’t you?” she asks. “You thought I’d be like the Naked video. Dancing around with only the naughty bits blurred out.”

I wish she hadn’t reminded me of the video. Yeah, I hate the song, but no straight male hates the video, and I don’t need to be thinking about what wasn’t blurred out when she’s in my arms and my hand is inches away from her breast and she’s groaning You smell so fucking good against my neck.

When we reach my door, I set her down gently. “I need you to be really quiet, okay? Sloane’s in the bed, so I’m gonna put you on the couch.”

She nods but all my caution was unnecessary—there’s a light on in the bedroom. Sloane must be up and she probably knows I left, which will go over about as well as everything else I’ve done this week.

Drew falls onto the couch without appearing to notice the blanket and pillow already there. She curls up and kicks off her shoes and just like that, she’s out cold. I get a second blanket from the closet and am pulling it over her when Sloane walks in, fully dressed.

“She smells like a distillery,” she says, arms folded across her chest.

“I thought you’d be asleep.”

She walks into the bedroom and I follow, feeling too tired for a fight but knowing we have to discuss it.

She’s got her suitcase out and it’s already packed.

“Sloane,” I say, running a hand over my face. “What are you doing?”

She swallows. “I’m going home.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” I argue. “Look, go to sleep and we’ll discuss it in the morning.”

“I need to get out of here,” she says. “I hate what it’s turning me into and I should never have come in the first place. I know that now." Her shoulders sag as if defeated and I hate that.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry this wasn’t what you wanted.”