Page 16 of Into the Fire

Just after one in the morning. They were talking last call. Anson had agreed to midnight with the guys, but I knew it was my decision. At least that’s what I remembered Enzo saying.

Not wanting to piss any of the guys off, I put my hand on Anson’s arm and leaned into him. Immediately, he inclined his head.

“I should go home. It’s late. I don’t want to be read the riot act.”

He nodded. “OK. Ryder?” He tossed Ryder his keys. Ryder caught them and nodded for us to follow him out.

Anson had to steady me, and I silently cursed myself for drinking so much as I stumbled along beside him.

We made it safely to his blacked-out Challenger, and he helped me into the backseat before sliding in beside me, Ryder getting into the front.

Ryder started the car, and it rumbled beneath us as Anson leaned between the seats.

“She lives on Rosewood Court,” he said. “It’s pre-loaded into the GPS. Tap there.” He sat back next to me as Ryder pulled out of the parking lot.

“You’re so wasted,” Anson said with a chuckle, his blue eyes sparkling beneath the passing streetlights. All four of them.

I winced and giggled. “I really am. I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

“Tell them to relax. You were out with people who know how to protect you,” Ryder called out from the front seat.

“Mm, yes, I am,” I said, letting my head fall back to the seat. I groaned as the spins took over.

“Please warn me if you’re going to throw up,” Anson said. “Because if you throw up, I’m going to throw up. That’s just the rules on how that works with me.”

“You have a weak stomach?” I looked at him with a raised brow.

“Just for vomit,” he muttered. “And just when I’m drunk.”

“Thought so. I’ve seen the things you used to do,” I teased. “The Underground. The blood. Ick.”

He gave me a wry smile. “Yeah. It’s ick, songbird.”

“Ryder, can you roll the window down? It’s so stuffy in here.” I fumbled with my jacket for a moment before getting it off, Anson attempting to help me but coming up fairly useless on it.

The cool wind hit my face, and I breathed out and fell back against Anson, who caught me.

“I’m really fucking drunk,” I mumbled, resting against his chest.

He sighed and ran his fingers lightly through my hair.

“The streetlights are making me so dizzy,” I continued.

“That’s the alcohol, LeeLee,” he murmured. “Close your eyes. You’ll spin but eventually adjust.”

I did as he said, noting the spinning.

“I had a nice night,” I said, my words garbled and slurred. “With you. I always do, Ani.”

“Me too, songbird.”

“I’m glad you’re mine,” I slurred. “Besties.”

He let out a chuckle. “Besties. Someday we’ll get those tattoos.”

“Mm, yes. Maybe they’ll be cats.”

“Maybe,” he said, humor in his voice.

---