Page 26 of Elusive

The rest of us just kinda stand around, shell-shocked, shooting each other “what do we do now” looks until Presley returns… and with one glimpse at her, I know she’s done for the night too.

“I placed your girlfriend in an Uber. Her friend apparently drove, but conveniently forgot to offer her a ride home, too busy running in the opposite direction,” she tells me, refusing to make eye contact. “JT, you straight, or do I need to get another Uber?”

“I’ll drive you home,” I offer.

“No, Sutton, you won’t. Worry about getting your, whatever, squared away. I’m good, can worry about myself. And whatever you do,” she shoves both hands in her hair, and maybe the lighting in here is deceiving, but I think I see a sheen of moisture in her eyes, “don’t consider me, atall, when deciding what to do about her. I’m not the kind of girl you base major decisions on. Isn’t that right, JT?”

“That’s not what I said, P, and you damn well know it.”

“It better fucking not have been,” I snarl.

“It wasn’t. Not that you have room to say shit.” He steps up to me. “She’s just drunk, gettin’ all sad. And yes, I drank. I’ll call us a ride. You really think I’d let you drive her anywhere after what happened tonight?”

“Not your choice.”

“How ‘bout both of you put your dicks away? I’m standing right here, capable of hearing, and unimpressed. I’ll call myself an Uber,” Presley fumes, then dashes, disappearing into the crowd.

---