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“By who? The doctor married to your friend … or was there another fake boyfriend I didn’t see? Perhaps he was imaginary, like the fictional others you’ve tried to make me jealous of.”
“Screw you,” I hiss.
“Been there. Done that. Won’t do it again. Now, which homeless shelter would you like me to drop you off at?”
Even though he can’t see me, I throw him a glare. “Take me to my parents’, please and thank you, or do you plan on dropping me off in the middle of nowhere again for shits and giggles?”
“I’m not dropping you off at your parents’ while you’re drunk off your ass.”
I pull out my phone to text my mom and ask her to keep the door unlocked. “I have nowhere else to go, so sure looks like you are. You know them. They’ll file a missing persons report if I don’t come home. The people at the restaurant will say I went home with you, and your coworkers will be arrestingyouthis time.” I smile. “If I were to turn up dead, I’d love nothing more than for you to go prison for it.”
He swerves over to the side of the road, causing me to fall back against the seat, and I throw my arms up.
“Oh Jesus Christ, here we go again.”
The door flies open. He jumps out and opens the back door. My phone is plucked from my hand before I open the text app. As if it’s not a big deal, he hops back into the truck and pulls back onto the road like he doesn’t realize what invasion of privacy means.
“Excuse me? Rude much?” I mutter, making a grab for it, but he stops me.
“What was your birthday friend’s name again? Your supposed mid-husband?”
“Fuck off,” I snarl.
“Interesting name. I wish my parents were that creative.” He snaps his fingers. “Alec, right?”
I don’t answer.
“I’ll take your silence as a,Yes, Gage, that’s it.” He starts typing on my phone. “All your parents will know about tonight is that you were too tired to drive home and are crashing at their place.”
That’s what I should’ve done in the first place. “One problem with that. Where am I supposed to sleep?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Oh no, don’t you think about it, Gage.”
“You can take the loft above the garage.”
“Not fucking happening.” A shelter is sounding pretty delightful right about now. “I’m not spending the night with you. I can’t take the chance of you smothering me in my sleep.”
“How do you know I won’t worry about you driving a stake through my heart again?” He glances back at me. “I’ll sleep in the main house.”
“Why are you treating me so nice? Is this the wholekeep your friends close and your enemies closertype crap?”
“To be honest, I have no idea.”
“You have no idea why you’re being nice … or if I’m your enemy?”
“Both.”
Memories knot through my thoughts when he pulls into his drive. The ranch home hasn’t changed. My attention goes to the detached garage with the loft above it, which was built when Gage was in middle school. His dad gave him permission to stay in there when he turned sixteen, and it’s where we spent most of our time together.
Surprisingly, I don’t push him away when he helps me out of the truck, and I don’t give him shit while he helps me up the stairs.
Endless questions crackle through my inebriated mind.
Why is he back? Where has he been?
We’re strangers now.
