“Whoa. I’ll get it.” Ben’s hands land on me, and I fall into them and laugh.
Then everything goes black.
Chapter Seventeen
Ben
“Oh shit, she’s drunk,” Laurel says.
I saw it coming, with Gillian’s eyes turning glassy and her letting me touch her under the table. Everyone knew where my hand was, I’m sure. But I didn’t imagine she was this drunk.
“I don’t feel good,” Gillian slurs, her hand over her stomach.
“Thanks, Brooks.” I scowl at him.
Laurel stands, and I already know she’s about to take Gillian from me. I put up my hand. “I’ve got her.”
“No really. I drove her here,” Laurel says.
“And I’ll get her home and take care of her.”
Laurel hems and haws and looks at Romy as if she needs her permission.
“Laurel, I threw the shots over my shoulder and had a total of one beer hours ago.”
“What a waste of alcohol.” Brooks shakes his head at me.
“Someone, put him in my bed tonight?” I ask, nodding at my friend.
Jude finally showed back up after his fit. I’d never confess to him that I don’t want to barge in on his thing, that maybe he prefers something without me being involved. Ever since I left town, I’ve felt his resentment like oil coating my skin whenever we’re around each other.
“We’ll take care of him. You take care of her.” Sadie nods toward Gillian, who is using me like a support beam.
I pick Gillian up over my shoulder.
“Ben!” Laurel shouts and rushes over. She looks at the group, which has already gone back to talking and laughing with each other. “You guys… I mean, I’d be a shit friend if I didn’t ask… I know you two disappeared for a while.”
I understand Laurel’s point, and I’m thankful that Gillian has Laurel to look out for her. Especially since I’ve been away. But I’m back now. “We’re going to give it a go and see what happens.”
A smile forms on her lips but dies quickly. She points at me and narrows her eyes. It’s almost comical coming from Laurel. What is she going to do—buttercream me to death?
“Okay, Ben, but I swear if anything happens to her, I can kill you, cut you into small pieces, and bake you into a cake.”
I raise my eyebrows, and she laughs.
“You know I’d never do anything to…”
Her eyebrows raise, and I nod.
“At least take my car. She’s not going to want your truck parked outside her house.” She rushes back to the table and digs into her purse, then shoves her keys in my hand.
“You have nothing to worry about.”
Her shoulders relax, and she walks around to my back. “Gillian, Ben’s going to take you home. Are you okay with that?”
“Why are you asking her permission? She’s drunk.”
“Of course,” Gillian says. “We’re probably going to have sex, but don’t tell anyone,” she whispers.