Page 44 of Dean

Beau ignores him and turns toward me. “So, tell me, why are you here all alone?”

“Hey, Beau, you know the interrogations are my thing,” Coop interjects, but I wave my hand around.

“I don’t mind an interrogation. I actually came here hoping to tell someone about my predicament and you two seem like my unlucky test subjects. How long do you have?”

Beau takes another sip. “Tell me everything. I have all night.”

Coop looks a little unsure, but he doesn’t move from Beau’s side. So, I take a deep breath and begin.

“Okay, so it all started with my creepy roommate…”

“Thank you for driving me home,” I say to Coop, who is helping me walk to the front door. Beau and I drank our weight in those martinis, and Beau is currently sleeping it off in the passenger seat of Coop’s car. “The world is spinning. Is your world spinning?”

“No. You and Beau drank too much, and those nachos did nothing to help. I’m telling you, they weren’t high enough quality.”

“They were chips. I don’t think they come with a quality.”

“Oh babe, you have no idea…”

“They were so salty,” I slur and fumble with my bag, trying to find my keys, but before I can, the door swings open and Dean is there, wearing no shirt and looking like a sex god.

“Oh my,” I murmur, and Coop lets out a small laugh.

Dean’s jaw ticks as he glowers at Coop and then he glances at me. “You bringing him in?”

I snort and move toward Dean. “No, he’s not interested,” I sigh, and Coop’s arm falls from around me. “Thank you, Coop. I can walk by myself now.” Just as I say that, I stumble to my left and Dean catches me.

Dean peers over Coop’s shoulder at the car and his face softens, obviously thinking Beau is his boyfriend. “Oh, right. Well, thank you for bringing him home.”

“Sure thing, and Avery, text Beau. He’ll want to check in tomorrow.”

“Will do, Captain.” I try to salute, but end up hitting myself in the face instead.

Coop huffs a laugh and moves back to the car, all while Dean gathers me into him and closes the door behind me.

“You were out late,” he murmurs, and I sigh, shifting further into him and pressing my face into his chest.

“I had a lot to say.”

“You could have told me.”

I snort so loudly I choke. “Yeah, problem is, some of it was about you.”

I pull back to meet his gaze and see him flush. “Bad stuff?”

“No. The opposite, but I’m not telling you anything. I’m drunk. Christy had a heavy pour, and I didn’t eat enough nachos or jalapeño poppers to soak any of it up.”

“All right. Well, let’s get you in bed then.” He helps me walk down the hallway, and I stumble toward my bed, falling onto it and sighing.

“I’m going to grab you some water.”

“Hmph,” I grumble, unable to move my lips to respond.

A moment later, he returns and sets the glass of water near my bed.

“Why don’t you have some now?”

“Too much work.”

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