Page 75 of Play It Off

“You know I did.” I send a scathing look to both women who are still sitting there, waiting for a sign from Gavin that they’re all going to leave together—goodbye, ladies. It’s never going to happen.

They get the hint and scurry away, but not without sending me rude glares of their own as they walk past.

Gavin laughs as he watches them go, his gaze returning to mine. “Always scaring them off, aren’t you, baby?”

I want to melt at the nickname, but I tell myself to stay strong—for Gavin. It’s clear that he’s hurting. He doesn’t get shit-faced drunk often, and that’s exactly how I would describe him. He’s got a goofy grin on his face, but his eyes are weary. Even a little sad.

“Since you won’t, someone has to,” I tell him, my voice light. “Ready to go home?”

“No way. I just got here!” He’s shouting, drawing some attention, and I keep the smile pasted on my face.

“How long have you been here, Gavin?”

“How long, Sam?” he asks the bartender.

“An hour at least,” Sam answers.

I’m shocked. How did we not notice him? Were we all too preoccupied with Frank’s storytelling? Normally I can even sense Gavin’s presence when he enters the room, but not this time around.

“You should at the very least stop drinking,” I warn him softly, letting my concern show on my face. “Bad night?”

“The fucking worst,” he says without hesitation. “You volunteering to take me home, Freckles? Want to slip into my bed and cuddle? Stay the night?”

He is blowing our cover left and right this evening. “I’m going to call you an Uber.”

“Don’t bother. I can walk home. I’m fine.” Gavin tries to stand and wobbles on his feet, plopping back onto the stool. “Fuck. Maybe not.”

I pull my phone out of my jeans pocket and pull up the Uber app, ordering us a car in seconds. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”

I grab at Gavin’s arm, but he’s resistant, pointing at the bartender. “Hold on. I owe Sam here some money. I can’t leave without paying him.”

“I put it on your tab, Gav. Pay us next time. We know you’re good for it,” Sam reassures him.

Gavin tumbles off the stool, straightening his body and offering Sam a salute. “You’re a good man, Sam. Unless you’re creeping on Freckles here. Then I get pissed.”

I’m mortified, but Sam doesn’t seem affected by his remarks. He deals with drunk people all the time.

Grabbing hold of Gavin’s arm, I steer him toward the front door, ignoring the way my skin tingles where it makes contact with Gavin’s muscles. Ugh, his biceps are sexy. Everything about him is sexy, and I’m doing my best to act like he’s only my friend, but it’s like my body can’t resist.

It gravitates toward him until I’m leaning against his chest and he’s got his arm slung over my shoulders, the two of us wrapped around each other as we stand outside and wait for the Uber to show up.

“Did you really just help me walk out of the bar?” He seems confused.

I nod. “Someone had to get you out of there.”

His smile is soft. Sweet. “You’re the best, Freckles. I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-EightSienna

He did not just say what I think he said ... did he?

That dopey grin is still on his face. I’ve always believed a person’s true feelings come out when they’re drunk.

Maybe, just maybe, Gavinisin love with me.

Hmmm. That might be hopeful thinking on my part.

A car fitting the description of our Uber pulls up to the curb, and I change the subject, desperate to get us out of here and somewhere more private. “Here’s our ride.”

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