Page 13 of Her Bad Boy

And he was a very, very bad man.

And as such, he acknowledged to himself, even as he handed her into the Uber and said good bye to her—admonishing Alan to drive very carefully because he was carrying cargo that was very precious to him—that—deep down—he couldn't promise himself or her that he wouldn't take her for himself, given the slightest opportunity—despite the fact that he was fully aware that it would cause the both of them a whole world of misery outside of the blissful confines of whatever room in which he chose to make love to her for the first time.

And—for better or, what was more likely, worse—that opportunity presented itself more quickly than he had imagined it would, by far, and it was Allie herself who contributed—almost gleefully—to her own downfall.

Since her birthday and Laura's interesting, if somewhat insulting, character reading—not that it wasn't something she didn't already know; it was just kind of stunning to hear it said out loud like that, in such stark terms—Allie had been trying to force herself to unwind a bit.

Unbeknownst to her, drinking the coffee he had so obviously left her was the first baby step. Letting Laura convince her to take the day off for no particular reason beyond a birthday she rarely celebrated was the second real step she took towards making that change. The third, however, was more like a giant leap.

The gang usually went out on Friday afternoon, for drinks. She was always invited, even though she had always—previously—turned them down. But not this time.

And the stunned looks on their faces as she said yes was worth any amount of emotional angst she might feel in what was sure to be an awkward and uncomfortable social setting. But she decided she liked surprising people like that.

"Really?" The group of about five of them—dedicated happy hour types—all train wrecked right in front of her office when she said it, practically causing a pile up right there in the hall by her door.

"Yeah, I want to come."

They were only too eager to contribute to her delinquency, and they all ended up at their favorite place—she having yielded the choice to their considerable experience in such things—and, amazingly, she had a wonderful time.

She was also, within a very short time—because she was so unused to alcohol—quite tipsy, despite the bar food they were all sharing, and she came to sincerely wish she had never learned the term "drunk texting", because upon exiting the ladies' room but before returning to the table, her newly cultivated "wild side" ducked into a dark alcove and sent a message to someone's private number—when she shouldn't even have had his private number.

You up?

As soon as she pressed send, she regretted it on so many levels—not the least of which was the fact that it was no later than seven-thirty or so. Of course, he was up.

Her alcohol bathed mind didn't even go to the worrisome places it normally would. It went to the high school crush place first. What if he didn't even bother to respond? What if—

She felt her phone vibrate in her hand a mere minute or two—which, of course, had felt like a lifetime to her—after she'd sent it.

Is there something I can do for you, Miss Barstow?

M drunk! she sent, even though she hated the tendency to abbreviate that texting had proliferated. Words were meant to be spelled out, sentences punctuated correctly—whether one was texting them or typing them.

You don't drink much, do you?

She chuckled out loud to herself. Don't drunk at all, turning over a new leaf.

Another long, nerve wracking pause.

Are you in a safe place? Lucas was at home, wishing he could see her tipsy, but his first concern was her safety.

Suddenly realizing that she was alone, Allie made her way to the table where they had all been gathered, but no one was there.

With friends, but where'd they go?

He grimaced at that, cursing her so called friends. You're alone?

Yup

Where are you?

McGuffys

He knew the place. It was near the D.A.'s office. Sit down and order a coffee and a glass of water—and I want them both gone by the time I get there. Don't talk to anyone else.

You're getting here?

Although he was smiling indulgently, Lucas sighed, realizing he was probably going to have to be excruciatingly detailed. Sit down.

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