Page 53 of From Now On

Frustration balloons, making my chest feel too tight. Eve’s single, and she’s ten feet away from me, and she’s still completely untouchable. Even if I were skilled at making moves, which I’m not, she’s obviously in no shape to start anything new. And by the time she is, we’ll probably have graduated.

Meaning I’ll have missed my shot…again.

Eve shuffles out of the shadows, flanked by Rylan and Harlow, drinking from the glass Rylan got her.

She lowers the cup, wrinkles her nose, then turns and dumps the rest of the water on the bush she vomited behind. “Sorry,” she says to the plant, very seriously.

Aidan snorts a laugh.

Rylan glares at him, and Aidan immediately shuts up. I mouthtamed stallionat Conor, and he coughs to cover his chuckle.

“I’m tired,” Eve announces, sinking down onto the curb. She rests her chin on her knees, the same way she did when I was changing the tire yesterday.

She looks as tired as I feel. Sad, and lost, too, which makes me want to punch whoever put that expression on her face. I was watching bar guy closely—well, as close as I could without being entirely obvious—and she seemed into him. Smiling and laughing and never looking uncomfortable.

Harlow digs a pack of gum out of her purse and hands a piece to her best friend. “Can you pull the car up here?” she asks Conor. Glances at Eve. “I’m not sure she’s in any shape to walk.”

“I’ve got it.” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve thought them through. Before Conor has even responded to Harlow’s request.

I crouch down next to Eve. She turns her head toward me, blinking drowsily. Smiles. “Hey, Hunter.”

“Hi, Eve. You want a ride to the car?”

She tilts her head, considering the offer. “How far is it?”

“Pretty far.”

I don’t even remember where Conor parked. But since the walk from the bar to the bushes wore her out, I’m guessing it’s an accurate assessment.

“Okay.” Eve yawns. “Ride, please.”

A silly flutter of nerves appears as I tuck one arm under Eve’s knees and curl the other behind her back, lifting her from the curb. It’s the same anticipatory rush I get right before I step on the ice during a game. The same anticipatory rush Iusedto get right before I stepped on the ice during a game, rather.

A unique burst of excitement and adrenaline I wasn’t expecting to experience again. Ever, anywhere, let alone in a dim parking lot carrying a drunk girl.

Eve yawns again before her head turns into my chest, nestling naturally into the hollow of my throat.

“You smell good,” she murmurs against my neck.

The words linger in the air. She smells like mint, and I can feel it tingle against my skin.

Eve’s voice has the soft slur of too much alcohol and being half asleep. She’s close to passing out completely. I doubt she even knows what she’s saying right now.

“You keep helping me.”

The soft sound of her voice startles me. I thought she was too drunk and sleepy to continue a conversation. “You’re welcome.”

Her answering laugh ends in a sigh. “I messed up again.”

I’m not sure what she’s talking about, exactly, but I figure “Everyone makes mistakes, Eve” is a safe answer.

“But the same one? That’s intensity.”

“Insanity,” I correct.

She laughs again, but this one sounds sad. “Right. Insanity. I never learn. He doesn’t want me.”

She’s in love with another guy.

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