Page 63 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“No.” I stand up and walk back to the bed. “But I think he could have. Your sister needs to learn her limits when it comes to alcohol. This could’ve ended badly. She attracts thewrongkind of guys who are just waiting for moments of weakness, you know.”

“Thank you so much for looking out for her tonight, Dylan.” She kneels in front of Bella and taps her on the cheek.

“You came,” Bella says weakly.

I nod. “Of course, I came. Let’s get you home.”

Catalina tries to help her stand up, but the drunken weight is too much for her one arm. I don’t know what their plans are, but I already know it’s not going to work. I lift Bella into my arms, and she moans softly, nuzzling her face into the side of my neck.

“I like the way you smell,” she whispers, and then I think she remembers that she’s supposed to hate me because the taunting starts again right after. “You sure you don’t want to reconsider my offer?”

My lips press into a hard line. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

She laughs tiredly. “Cat, do you know that Dylan does not find me attractive?”

I don’t know why she’s inviting her sister into our squabble, but I look at Catalina and shake my head because nothing could be further from the truth. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Like...he’s the only guy at this school...whodoesn’twant to fuck me.”

Catalina sighs, sounding disappointed as she opens the door for us.

“I’d be all over you if you were sober,” I respond then clamp my mouth shut because I shouldn’t be engaging.

Scott has not mastered the art of hiding because I find him outside the bedroom, wrapped up tight in the loving arms of Amanda. If I were in a better mood, I’d probably laugh.

“Taking out the trash, Dylan?” Amanda asks as we walk by, and I almost snap because I am so tired of being baited tonight. I ignore her and continue down the stairs, pushing through the crowd to get out the front door. I’m greeted by the refreshing, cool night air once we step outside. The music dulls out as we walk further down the street.

Catalina takes out her phone. “I’m just gonna call an Uber.”

“I’ll take you home,” I offer quickly.

“That’s kind of you, but don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”

Oh, God, not another one. Why are they so stubborn? It’s like they’re allergic to accepting help or something.

“It’s really no trouble. My car is just a little further. I don’t mind taking you home.”

“It’s okay, Dyl. I got this.”

I half-turn to see Scott jogging toward us and for a second, I thinkImay be drunk because what is Scott doing out here? He presses a button on his key fob to deactivate the alarm and the lights of his Aston Martin switch on.

“I don’t need a ride from either of you,” Catalina snaps, and I immediately pick up the tension between them. “Go back to your party. I’ll get an Uber. Isa and I will be fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Scott crosses his arms and glares at her. “Please explain to me how you’re gonna get her up the stairs. She’s drunk and you only have one working arm.”

I’m a hundred percent with Scott on this one, and I’m glad that at least one person is using logic here, but I’m still confused as hell. It sounds like they know each other. It sounds like he knows what her house looks like. And how would he know that? He can’t stand her. The only time he ever speaks to her is when he’s hurling insults at her, yet now there is genuine concern in his voice.

“That sounds like ameproblem,” Catalina retorts. “I’ll figure it out when I get home. I don’t need your help, Scott.”

“Fuck, Cat!” He grits his teeth, balling his hands into tight fists. “Stop being so stubborn and just get in the car! I’m not up for your bullshit tonight.”

“Then go back to your stupid party,” she yells. “I’m sure you’reupfor whatever Amanda has planned for you in the hot tub.”

He spins around, turning away from her as he inhales deep breaths to calm down. I feel bad for him but at the same time, I’m glad that I’m not the only one who has to suffer through shit like this. Scott is by no means my favorite person, but I feel a sort of comradery building between us, a connection, a bond because now we both know how it feels to resist the overwhelming urge to choke someone.

When he turns back, he looks at me. “Dyl, can you take Isabella to my car and give us a few minutes, please?”

I’m still confused, but I don’t argue or ask questions because I’ve had enough drama for one night. “Sure, Scott,” I say then head to his car.

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