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"Tye," I say softly to get her attention.
She opens her eyes just enough to glance back at me and groans. "Ugh. Go away. I'm trying to sleep."
"You can't sleep here," I tell her. "And if the cops find you, you'll get charged with underage drinking and public intoxication."
"I don't care."
"You do, though." I grab her wrist and pull her upright. "Come on. I'll take you home."
She rolls her eyes and goes to get up, but immediately stumbles. I manage to catch her just before she hits the ground. She's still wearing the outfit I last saw her in. The one she wore on her date. It's a pair of jeans and a pink crop-top that matches her hair. Even as a drunken mess, she's gorgeous. I'm honestly surprised she didn't get herself taken out here. We're not exactly in the best part of town.
I lift her into my arms, despite her clear objections to it. She thrashes slightly in my arms and tells me to put her down, but I can't risk her running into traffic. When I get to my car, I press a button and the door opens.
"I hate you and your fancy ass car," she growls.
Putting her in the passenger seat and securing the buckle across her, I smirk. "Well, you can hate me from inside the car while I take you home."
"Jerk."
I'M NOT EVEN HALFWAYhome before she's passed out beside me. Her head rests against the door, and she's finally stopped shivering. It's a relief to see her so comfortable, because at first I was afraid she was going to vomit in my car. If she wasn't so out of it, she would probably do it just to spite me. Thankfully, that's not the case.
When I get back to campus, I realize that I don't have the key to her dorm, and being as it's nearly three in the morning, trying to get in would be a shitshow. After a couple minutes of thinking, I realize my only option is to bring her back to my place. She's not going to like it, and she very well might punch me for it in the morning, but what else can I do?
I park in front of my building and carefully maneuver her away from the door so she doesn't fall out. Hopping out of the car, I make my way over to that side and scoop her into my arms. She murmurs something incoherent and cuddles against my chest.
As I climb up the stairs, I can't help but wonder what it would be like if things were different. If I had never dated Davi. If Tye had been interested. Would this be a normal thing? Would it still make my heart stutter inside my chest? I have a hard time imagining I could ever get sick of this feeling.
It takes a lot of effort to carefully maneuver her into my dorm while also trying not to make too much noise. Still, I manage to wake up Jace anyway. He runs his fingers through his hair, but when he sees me carrying Tye, his brows raise and he shakes his head.
"Always such a damn hero," he says with a sigh. "Too bad you've got a martyr complex."
If I wasn't carrying Tye, I'd flip him off. Instead, I settle for a mouthed fuck you. He chuckles and retreats to bed while I put the drunk one in mine. She instantly snuggles into my pillow, and I pull the blanket over her. When I go to walk away, however, she reaches for me.
"Stay," she mumbles.
Hearing that one simple word is like a shock to my system, and fuck is it tempting. Even though she's drunk, I'd love nothing more than to lie beside her and just hold her in my arms. But, I know she doesn't mean it. She's going to be lethal enough when she wakes up sober and realizes where she is. Having my throat slit while I'm sleeping really isn't something I'm into, so instead, I press a soft kiss to her forehead and go back out to the living room.
Couch it is.
I WAKE IN THEmorning to the sound of Tye groaning in pain. With how drunk she was, I'm sure the headache she's sporting is nothing short of unbearable. A few minutes later, she comes out of my room looking like she was hit by a truck, and somehow still pulling it off.
"What the hell am I doing here?" she asks, confused.
I sit up and lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees. "You called me at two in the morning, drunk off your ass and what sounded like playing in traffic. I had to go find you and bring you home."
She winces. "I feel like death."
"Yeah, well… You shouldn't drink so much. It's not safe."
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because her eyes narrow and she crosses her arms over her chest. "And how would you like me to deal with losing my best friend?"
Nope. Not doing this. I get up and make my way to the fridge to get her a bottle of water. When I hand it to her, she slams it down on the counter.
"No, fucking answer me. Who the hell are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do?"
I run my hands over my face. "Tye, please don't do this right now."
"Fuck that," she says, standing her ground. "You've been begging me for the last couple weeks to talk. So now's your chance. Why is it that I'm the only goddamn person upset by her loss? Why am I the only one still grieving? You should be beating yourself up constantly because you're the reason she was on that roof in the first place!"
