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He pulls away enough to bury his face back in my hair. “I changed my mind about hanging out here tonight. Can we go home now?” he growls in my ear while locking his hands together in a tight squeeze around my back. I laugh and wrap my arms completely around his neck, letting him lift me off the ground.
He spins me around, and when my line of vision passes by the TV, my brow furrows. I tap Gage’s shoulder to put me down. He sets me on my feet and gives me a questioning look while I pull my phone out of my back pocket. I scroll to the TV app and turn up the volume.
“Look,” I say.
A familiar face flashes across the screen just as Warren comes trudging back into the room. He’s scowling at his phone, but the name on the TV grabs his attention, and he snaps his head up.
“Local attorney Savannah Chase was escorted out of the courthouse this morning in handcuffs,” the news anchor reports. In the corner of the screen is a professional headshot of a woman with a mega-watt smile. Her hair is blown out and curled to perfection, her makeup looks like it was done by a celebrity artist, and she’s wearing a light caramel suede blazer on top of a crisp white blouse. She’s stunning.
“Her arrest followed a physical altercation on the premises and,” the news anchor pauses and squints at the prompter to make sure he’s reading it correctly, “alleged indecent exposure.”
Tripp snorts and my jaw drops.
A video of a frustrated Savannah whipping her hair out of her face and storming from a building with two cops flanking her now plays in the corner of the screen. She’s positively irate, and very clearly shouts“FUCK!”
There’s no audio to the clip, but it’s pretty easy to lip-read when you’re that animated. The video goes on to show the cops placing her in the backseat of their cruiser, and then driving away. Several cameras flash and a crowd of onlookers stare in shock at the scene.
The screen pans back to the studio and a suited man starts talking about the weather. I turn the volume back down and take a drink, deep in thought. Finally, it dawns on me where I recognize this girl from and I snap my fingers.
“Hey, am I crazy or is that the girl you went on a date with a few weeks ago, Warren?”
Gage’s eyes widen and he looks to Tripp and Heston, but they just shrug.
Warren sets his phone on the table. He puts both hands in his pockets, looks up to the ceiling, and blows out a labored breath.
“That’s her.”
The End.
