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“I don’t feel well.”
“I can see that. Maybe only have one or two drinks next time.”
“I only had one drink.”
I still. She can’t be that much of a lightweight. “What did you drink?”
“I don’t remember,” she says groggily. Her head rests against my chest. “I think a rum and coke. Lyndsey ordered it for me.”
I stop. So she did come with someone else. “Who’s Lyndsey?”
“My roommate.”
This changes things. I can’t take off with her and leave her friend here. How would that look? It’s already looking shady enough.
“Is she here with you still?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She nods. She’s almost asleep on my chest. I prop her up and nudge her to keep her awake for just a few seconds more.
“Can you call her? Send her a message?” I hold her out by her shoulder in front of me. She’s still close, but I can see her face. She’s almost completely asleep, so I shake her gently. “Do you know where she’s at?”
Aly gathers enough energy to text Lyndsey and tells her where we are. I wait with Aly pressed against my side for support. She weighs practically nothing, and the top of her head barely meets my shoulder. So fragile for once, unlike any other time I’ve ever seen her before. This same woman laid into me on the first day we met, unafraid to let me know how she felt about the community she clearly loves. She took no time in defending her proposal, in practically fighting me tooth and nail to make sure I believed in her cause as well.
Now, here she is, so vulnerable and helpless. And I’m the one who gets to take care of her, to ensure her safety. A shiver glides down my spine.
What might have happened if she hadn’t texted me?
“Who are you?” A blonde stands in front of us, clearly irritated. Her aggressive stance triggers warnings of danger. Like she just might kill me if I don’t release her friend.
I contemplate the best way to introduce myself. Saying I’m Aly’s professor probably won’t make this situation appear legit either. Nor would announcing myself as a customer of hers at Home Depot.
“This is Zach,” Aly supplies for me instead.
“You?” Recognition flashes across the blonde’s face. So, Aly’s mentioned me?
The sheer masculine pride welling in my chest disintegrates as the blonde’s eyes narrow into thin, black slits. “What are you doing here?”
Ah. So she has talked about me...and, apparently, left nothing out.
“Aly called me,” I explain. I leave the dirty details for my own private thoughts. “Though I don’t think she’ll remember it.”
Concern replaces the look of pure rage. “Oh my god. What did you do to her?”
“Ow.” Pain tears through my arm. Not the one holding Aly at least, and I maintain my grip. I stare down at the small, bejeweled purse in Lyndsey’s hand. I’ll be feeling those tiny fucking rhinestones into next week. “Nothing. She said she only had one drink. What the hell did you order her?”
Lyndsey places her hands on her hips. Her dark eyes level over me in a silent challenge. She is significantly taller than Aly, almost nose to nose with me. “A rum and coke. Light on the rum. She’s a total lightweight. Not this light, though.”
“She needs to lie down,” I say, and start to move toward the door again. “Get some rest.”
Lyndsey steps in front of us. “Look, you’re not taking her anywhere in this condition.”
“Agreed. So why don’t you come with us.”
“Where exactly? She can’t ride the bus back like this.”
I run my palm across my forehead. “I have a place here.”
“You just randomly have a place in the city?”
