Page 212 of Tell Me Something True

It wasn’t her fault the boy had too much to drink. And it certainly wasn’t her responsibility to make sure he had somewhere sleep it off. He could pass out at any number of places, including his own home, his truck, or on a bench at the park.

She should go inside. Lock the door. Pretend none of this had ever happened.

But she couldn’t, in good conscience, let him drive while he was drunk.

With an exhalation that was less resigned sigh and more irritated growl, she stomped after him.

Hey, she didn’t have to like doing the right thing. She just had to do it.

At least, that’s what her brothers had always taught her.

Even with his stumbling and fumbling, he was almost to the driveway already, so she picked up her pace. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”

Which would mean waking Urban and telling him what was going on, but that was just a risk she’d have to take. He wouldn’t get mad that she was making sure Reed got home safely.

Reed kept walking.

She hurried around him and almost got knocked off her feet when both dogs decided she was playing some fantastic new game they just had to be a part of and knocked into her, one after the other, and she staggered forward, on her way to taking a header.

But Reed caught her.

Reed.

Caught.

Her.

As in he touched her when he usually did everything in his power not to. His fingers wrapping around her upper arms, their bodies pressed together from hip to chest. It was only for a moment, just long enough to steady her.

Close enough for her to hear the way he hissed in a breath as if touching her was the absolute worst.

As if it pained him.

Then he snatched his hands away.

And stepped back.

Head lowered, gaze on the ground, she breathed carefully through her nose. Her stomach churned with humiliation all because a stubborn, confusing, stupid boy couldn’t stand to touch her.

Even if the way he looked at her said that was all he wanted to do.

Inhaling deeply, she lifted her head, mouth open, ready to demand he hand over his truck keys or she was absolutely calling Miles, when the words dissolved on her tongue.

She made a sound, a cross between a gasp and a sob, and covered her mouth with her trembling hand. Swallowed down that sound and the nausea rising in her throat.

Because Reed wasn’t drunk.

He was hurt.

And he needed her help.

Chapter 43

Verity had no doubt she was going to regret sneaking Reed up to her room.

But not as much as she’d regret not doing it.

Once he and both dogs were behind her closed bedroom door, she hurried down the stairs again. In the kitchen, she filled a glass with water and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, then went back upstairs, ducking into the bathroom to get the first aid kit and wet a few washcloths.

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