Page 6 of His Temptation
“Cas,” Ryan said, gripping my shoulder. “You should let loose. Drink and fuck like the rest of us. There are so many hotties here.”
“I’m driving you home, remember?” I brushed his hand away and pulled out my phone to check the time. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“It’s after midnight.”
That sobered him up a little. His eyes widened and he ran a hand through his black hair. “Ah, fuck.” But then he started to laugh. And kept laughing.
“We’re leaving,” I said, grabbing his hand to drag him away.
“People will think we’re gay,” he snapped, yanking his hand from mine before shoving me backward.
I stared at him, shocked. His anger had come out of nowhere. Not even an hour earlier, he’d been lying all over me in the grass saying he loved me. And now he was suddenly worried about what people would think?
It made the fear inside me twist even more. The incident with Lindsey made me wonder if I wasn’t as straight as I thought. Would Ryan still want to be my friend?
Faltering in his step, he walked through the field toward his car. I followed in silence, wondering what had riled him up so fast. Had I unintentionally pissed him off? He was drunk and irritated at having to leave—that had to be the reason.
Reaching the car, he fumbled with the passenger-side handle. I opened the door for him.
He plopped into the seat and peered up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “Thanks for having my back tonight. Sorry for snapping earlier and pushing you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“No problem,” I said, relieved he wasn’t mad anymore.
I had taken the keys from him when we’d gotten to the party, so I pulled them from my pocket and walked around to the driver’s seat. Ryan fell asleep on the way home. The purr of the engine made my eyes heavy too, and by the time I pulled into his driveway, I had to force them to stay open.
The porch light turned on before the front door opened. Emery stepped outside wearing a T-shirt and lounge pants, and his scowl was clear even from my distance. A glance at the clock told me we were nearly two hours past curfew. He’d probably been waiting up for us this whole time.
Shit.
I shook Ryan’s shoulder and told him to wake up. He mumbled in his sleep and turned his head toward the window. I shook him with more force, causing him to jolt awake.
“What the hell?” he said, glaring at me.
“Your dad is about to kill us both.” I motioned toward the house where Emery stood with his arms crossed. “Just wanted you to be awake so I didn’t have to face him alone.”
“Thanks, man,” he muttered dryly before opening the car door. When he stood up, he stumbled and slapped a hand on the hood. There was no way he could make it to the house on his own, so I got out to help him.
“Do you know what time it is?” Emery snapped once we were in the house. He had waited until we were inside to grill us. “What part of ‘be home by midnight’ do you not understand, Ryan?”
“Sorry,” Ryan said, not sounding the least bit apologetic, using the wall for support as he headed down the hall toward his room. “Won’t happen again.”
Emery moved his cold blue eyes to me, and the intensity of his gaze made me weak in the knees. But not from fear. As it so often did when around him, my blood heated and that strange feeling returned.
“It’s my fault for not keeping an eye on the time,” I said with a slight tremble in my voice. “Sorry, Mr. Cross.”
He released a long exhale. That’s when I suspected he’d been more worried than mad. When his gaze shifted back to me, the coldness had fled. “Thank you for bringing him home.”
“You’re welcome.” I took a step back as I realized how close we’d been standing. “Um, good night.”
“You’re leaving?” Emery asked.
I turned back to him. “Yeah, I should get home.”
“It’s late and you look like you’re about to pass out. Stay here tonight.”
“Okay. Thanks.” It didn’t sound like a request anyway.
