Page 96 of On The Rocks

“Where do you want me?” I asked.

“Herding?” Kira asked hopefully.

I laughed. “That I can do.”

Kira headed back into the taproom, and I ushered Lennon after her.

Before we got across the threshold, she glanced back at me. “Thanks for looking for me.” Then she was gone.

I tried to push back the worry that itched at me. I was probably just overreacting. Lennon brought out a protective side of me that I hadn’t felt in a damn long time.

Ushering out drunk people was a bit more challenging than I thought it would be. Most had designated drivers, but I ended up taking quite a few sets of keys and calling for share rides. By the time we got everyone out of there, it was well past two in the morning.

Clean-up took another forty minutes. By the time the doors were locked, I was pushing an exhausted Lennon out the door with me. She didn’t even blink when I steered her to my truck. The drive to my place on the property only took seven minutes and when I rolled in, she was already dozing against the door.

I parked and hopped out, going around to her side. When I opened the door, her eyes blinked at me owlishly. “You’re wiped.”

“I haven’t worked this late since Miami in January. Someone hasn’t let me sleep all that much.”

I curled my arm around her and pulled her into my arms, letting her slowly lower to the ground. “I like when you sleepover. And I’m pretty sure you get plenty of sleep after I’m done with you.”

She punched me in the shoulder, but she was too tired to give it too much energy. “You’re taking me home to sleep, pal. That’s it.”

“I can handle that.”

We bumped against each other as if we’d been the ones drinking. Now that I was close to my place, the tiredness was swamping me fast. I unlocked the door and dragged her inside with me. She kicked off her sneakers and went directly to the bookcase hiding my bedroom.

Shaking my head, I headed to the fridge and grabbed us both a tall can of water. I cracked mine and drained half of it on the way across the living room. I checked that the front was locked and followed her into my room. She’d stripped out of her clothes and the door was cracked to my bathroom.

The shower was running, steam pluming from the doorway.

Leaving her to it, I went to find her a shirt. This time, it was an old Arcade Fire shirt. I pushed the door open, my chest tightening at her in my space.

Her hair was pinned up as she lowered her head to let the hot water roll over her shoulders. Whatever soap she used was long gone. I grabbed a big navy towel, opened the glass door, and reached in to turn off the water. “C’mon out before you’re pruny.”

She glanced at me sleepily. “It’s nice and warm.”

I held up the towel. “C’mon.”

She sighed and let me bundle her up. Quickly, I dried her and dropped the shirt over her head, then I led her to my bed. I pulled back the blankets and she dropped, face first on the bed. Dragged a pillow under her head and she was gone.

I covered her up and left her to take my own shower.

My annoyance at how she’d been locked in the storage room only increased. I was probably overreacting, but I couldn’t shake how odd it was. Then the tires, and my outside lights had to be a coincidence. Just a string of bad luck.

But why? And how?

I shut off the lights and crawled into bed with her, tucking my arm behind my head as I stared up at the shadowy streaks across my ceiling from the big window. When she rolled against my side, I turned off my brain and let her soft breathing drag me under with her.

When sunshine replaced the shadows, slowly, I woke with a bundle of Lennon sprawled across my chest.

She certainly stole covers and space in her sleep. I had a paltry sheet covering half of the lower part of me. But it was worth it.

“What time is it?” she mumbled against my skin.

“Not sure. Morning still. You can go back to sleep. It’s Sunday.”

She sighed. “Sunday is for doing nothing.”

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