Page 24 of Win Big

“I’ll drive you home.” He cups a hand around my elbow, barely touching me, and yet it feels steadying.

“No.” I don’t want to be with him when I’m like this. “That’s okay.”

“Don’t be stubborn, princess.” His voice is low and calm. “Do you have a coat somewhere?”

“My office.” My head whirls again, this time putting me off balance. My steps falter.

“Did you drink too much?” His tone is mildly amused as he leads me off the ice surface, down the tunnel to the elevator that goes to the offices of the Condors and the Condors Foundation.

“No! I mean, I did have a few drinks, but that was over the whole evening. I’m not drunk.”

“If you say so.”

He doesn’t believe me. But that’s okay. I’d rather he think I’m drunk. Of course, he might get the idea I have a slight alcohol problem since I seem to be wasted every time I see him. Ugh.

I lean against the elevator wall, trying to appear normal even though the buzzing in my ears is louder, I’m dizzy, and it’s starting to make my stomach turn over. Christ.

We don’t say much as I use my security card to unlock the offices and collect my coat. I have my little evening bag with me, over my shoulder. The offices are silent, the halls empty, unlike the brisk atmosphere that usually fills them during the day.

Wyatt takes my coat and helps me into it like a perfect gentleman, even lifting the ends of my hair out from the collar. “Thank you,” I manage.

We take the elevator, this time to the underground parking where the players have spots. He leads me to his SUV and helps me in.

I close my eyes and try to relax into the seat as he starts the engine and drives out of the parking garage. I focus on breathing, but I know that won’t do any good. I’m just going to have to wait this out.

“I need your address,” Wyatt says as he turns onto Wilshire.

I give it to him. “It’s not far. Keep going until 17th Street, then left.”

He nods. “It seemed like the evening went well.”

“Yes.”

He gets that I really don’t want to talk right now. My heartbeat is erratic, skipping all over the place and racing. It’s impacting my breathing, so I try to pay attention to that, in... out... in... out.

He cruises through dark streets, Ed Sheeran playing quietly on his sound system, but I mostly keep my eyes closed. Fuck! I hate this so much.

6

WYATT

She’s fucking hammered.

I don’t know why I find this surprising.

It’s also a little concerning. I mean, New Year’s Eve, sure, lots of people get wasted, but at a charity event that she’s responsible for? That doesn’t seem like Everly at all. What I know of her anyway.

She’s so... together. Confident and in control. An overachiever. The kind of woman who makes everyone feel like a loser. Okay, maybe that’s just me.

Nah, she doesn’t make me feel like a loser. She irritates me and she can be a little intimidating, but she also energizes me. Like... a breakaway. The perfect shot through the five hole. Scoring against the best goalie in the league. Like a... a challenge.

I know she works hard at her job and everyone respects her. The Foundation does a lot of good in the community. She doesn’t seem like someone who’d have an alcohol problem. She seems like she enjoys being in control way too much to give in to booze. I know addiction doesn’t work like that, but that’s how I feel.

I glance over at her, leaning back in the passenger seat of my SUV, eyes closed, breathing slowly. Jesus, I hope she’s not going to puke. I don’t do well with vomit. One time I was babysitting Owen, he threw up and we both ended up sick.

I find her place and park on the street under a palm tree. The two-story, Spanish-style building has a tiled roof, pale stucco, and arched windows, and is surrounded by lush landscaping. When the vehicle stops, her eyes flutter open. “We’re here?”

“Yep. Come on, princess.” I unbuckle my seatbelt, jump out, and round the vehicle to help her.

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