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We head toward the street corner where I parked my truck. I sneak glances at Cassia as we walk, trying to gauge exactly how drunk she is.
Nova and some other girls who Cassia is friends with showed up about an hour after we arrived, so I lost track of how much she continued drinking after she went off with them.
My phone buzzes with a message in the team group chat, wondering where I went. I reply, letting the guys know I left, shoving my phone back into my pocket before the inevitable messages about me being whipped come in.
We’re one of the smaller teams on campus, tighter knit than most. And I’m currently the only one with a girlfriend. Henry dated a sophomore named Amanda for a few months last year, but they broke up mid-season. Several guys on the team are in a constant state of shock that I choose to be in a relationship when they’ve seen first-hand the attention I get from girls.
Cassia connects her phone to the speakers as soon as we’re in the cab, flipping between songs as I drive. Her mood seems to be shifting just as quickly. I glance over at the first light, and she’s frowning. At the next stop sign, her lips are tipped up.
When I park in the empty driveway, she speaks.
“Nice place.” She glances over at me, still smirking. “Have you lived here long?”
I raise one eyebrow, trying to assess her angle.
She raises one right back at me. “What, your sister got all the acting skills in the family?”
I shake my head, then decidewhat the hell?I turn toward her as much as the truck’s seat will allow. “How do you know my sister is into theater stuff?”
Cassia beams when she realizes I’m playing along.
I roll my eyes.
“Lucky guess,” she replies.
“Want a tour of the house?” I ask, popping my door open.
“Sure. Although I’m really just interested in, you know, your bedroom.”
I chuckle under my breath and shake my head as I lock the truck, then follow her up the brick path that leads to the front door. The porch light is on, but the house is dark. Robby was supposed to show up at Dirty Mike’s but never did. No clue where Henry is.
I watch Cassia carefully as she climbs the steps. She doesn’t stumble or trip, walking confidently up to the front door and waiting for me to unlock it.
I guide her into the kitchen first, pulling a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with water before handing it to her. Pretty sure she’ll wake up with a hangover regardless, but I tried.
“Drink this, Cassia.” She takes the glass, then asks. “How do you know my name?”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously?”
Her smirk remains, waiting expectantly.
I take the glass back, then hold it out to her. “Drink this, Random Girl From The Bar.”
She drains it, then sets it on the counter, holding eye contact the entire time. “What’s your name?”
I huff a laugh as she steps closer, deliberately trailing her fingers down the center of my chest.
“You’re drunk and upset,” I remind her.
“Yup.” Cassia confirms.
But instead of backing away, she takes another step closer.
Our bodies brush together as her hand slips into my hair, fingers tangling in and tugging on the short strands.
“Only you could get me wet right now.” She whispers the words like they’re a secret no one else is supposed to know. To anyone else, they’d sound hot. They’d be an ego stroke.
But I hear the hidden meaning.
