Page 47 of How to Score Off Field

He’s good at hiding it, but he’s notthatgood.

And when he puts his hands at the small of my back, guiding me through the exit door and out into the huge, crowded parking lot, I shiver again.

He leaves it there while we walk the long row to my car.

He opens the passenger side door for me, then closes it while I buckle my seat belt.

We don’t have much to say while he’s navigating through the parking lot and turning right onto the main road. He knows the way back to my brother’s house, but something nags at me.

I’m not ready for him to leave.

I’m not ready for him to go back to Grady’s place.

I’m not ready for him to go to the airport tomorrow.

Shit.

It’s not as if we’re drunk; we danced and sweated most of the alcohol out of our systems until we were as sober(ish) as we were at the beginning of the afternoon, so what’s my excuse for what I’m about to say?

He doesn’t need to come home with me.

We weren’t pawing at each other. We weren’t making out (like Grady was). We weren’t dry humping each other on the dance floor, much as I would have loved to.

Ha!

Fuck it.

I’m just gonna do it.

Don’t be a wuss, Tess.

Shoot your shot.

It’s not your place, it’s Miranda’s.

She isn’t going to care. It’s not like you’re sleeping on her couch the way Drew is sleeping on Grady’s; you’re in the spare bedroom.

I wring my hands in my lap, debating.

Wine.

Miranda has wine. I can invite him in for some of that?

You don’t drink wine, and neither does he.

Ugh.

“If you’d rather not go back to my brother’s place and listen to him having honky-tonk sex, you’re more than welcome to come to Miranda’s with me, where it’s quiet,” I blurt out.

Drew bursts out into laughter. “Honky-tonk sex?” he repeats. “What the hell is that?”

“You know—finding someone at the dance hall and bangin’ ’em.”

“She’s part of the wedding party, yeah?” He has his eyes on the road, and the oncoming headlights are doing wonders for the color of his eyes and the dark slashes of his eyebrow. He looks mysterious and sexy.

“So…wedding party sex?”

“That’s more like it,” he amends. “That blonde, don’t know what her name is.”

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