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I probably won’t be able to refocusanywhereuntil I sufficiently freak out about this, but I’d rather not focus from the comfort of my bed.
Chilly air nips at my cheeks as I step outside the library. I bury my hands in my pockets and tuck my chin as far inside mycoat as it’ll go, my steps hasty as I head for the path past the parking lot that’s my quickest route home.
Since I’m trying not to think about it, that night in Colorado is all I can focus on.
It replays in my memory through the filter of the new details I’ve learned about the guy I was with that night—his last name is Phillips, he’s “bored by numbers,” and, most importantly, he plays hockey for my dad.
A hot flash of humiliation creeps across my skin, recalling some of the things I said to him. He’d been drinking that night, so hopefully his recollection isn’t as vivid as mine is.
Unfortunately, I can recall our entire interaction perfectly. Everything I said. Everything I encouraged—begged—him to do.
At least my embarrassment will keep me warm on the cold walk home.
I’m so caught up in my own thoughts, it takes me too long to notice the tall figure standing near one of the light posts. My heart starts racing, first from fear and then from dread.
Aidan pulls the phone from his ear, then shoves it into his pocket.
His expression is harsh, brows pulled tight and his jaw clenched tight. Whatever he was listening to, it wasn’t pleasant.
“I thought you’d left,” is all I can think to say.
“Not yet.”
I nod. “Okay. Well, night.” I debate waving, for some absurd reason, but thankfully opt to keep my hands warm in my pockets. Then turn and continue on the path.
“You’re walking?”
I’m too close to pretend I didn’t hear him. I glance back. “Uh, yeah. It’s not far.”
Before I can escape, he says, “I’ll drive you home.”
I’m surprised by the offer, but don’t let it show. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Rylan.”
All he says is my name, and it stills me into a frozen state. Hearing that voice that I’ve replayed in my mind like a favorite song say my first name…it twists my insides into knots.
“If something happened to you, Coach K would kill me.”
Annoyance sparks as soon as he mentions my father.
“If you’re worried about my dad’s opinion of you, you probably shouldn’t have fucked me in a hot tub,” I snap.
Wait for the obvious rebuttal—he didn’t know who I was when that happened.
Instead, he asks me, “Do you want to stand here and keep arguing about it, or do you want to get home in half the time?”
If the offer of a ride had come from anyone else, I’d be reacting very differently. It’s cold and dark out, and I’m notthrilledabout walking home. But I’m nervous, honestly, about being alone in a car with him.
Aidan has an effect on me I’ve only experienced with alcohol, effortlessly washing away my inhibitions. I’m not shy but I can be reserved, especially around people I don’t know very well. I don’t know Aidan, well or otherwise, but he made me act more thoughtlessly than anyone else has ever managed to.
“Fine,” I say.
“Fine, what?”
“Fine, you can give me a ride home.”
“Lucky me.” He grins, then starts walking toward a black SUV.
