Page 11 of After All This Time

She breezes past me, heading to her bedroom, and I watch as she tosses her heels inside before she spins back toward me.

I lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest as my gaze follows her every move, probably looking like the overprotective asshole I'm about to be.

"How did you get home?"

"Uber."

She has to be fucking with me.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, and if you're worried, don't be,"she says, waving her hand like it's no big deal. "The driver was nice, and we ended up talking about Eminem the whole way home."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, counting to five because ten would take too damn long. "In the future, you call me, okay? I don't care if it's ass o'clock in the morning—I'd rather drag myself out of bed than have you do that again."

"How verybig brotherof you."She laughs and shakes her head, but all it does is grate on my shit because she isn't taking me seriously.

"Come on, don't be a dick. You know I'll come and get you."

"I know. But I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

"Hey, look at me, Mills."I wait until those dark eyes find mine, watching them struggle to focus through the alcohol haze. "I'm not trying to be like Kayla. I'm not here to control your life, butI don't want you to be that hot, wasted girl who thought she was safe and it wouldn't happen to her until it did."

She bursts out laughing. "You did not just say hot."

I drag a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to lose my shit. "Seriously? That's what you took from what I just said?"

She's laughing so hard she's doubled over, and I force myself to wait it out, my hands twitching with the need to shake some sense into her. When she finally looks up, the laughter fades, and her expression shifts the moment she notices the seriousness etched across my face.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just wanted to get home, but next time, I'll call you first."

The space between us vanishes as I close the distance, my lips grazing her hair in a soft kiss on the top of her head before I turn toward the kitchen.

"How was it anyway? You were meeting people from the company, right?" I ask, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah." She brushes past me and opens a cabinet, pulling out a glass.

"Did it go okay?"

"They were nice. Some were nicer than others, but I had fun."

"That's good. It'll be nice for you to make some friends."

Her fingers go still on the cabinet handle. "Well, it's not like you've helped me in that situation."

"What do you mean?"

"I've met one of your friends.Once. Other than that, I've been alone, or I've been with you." She raises her arm, flicking her hand toward me like it isn't obvious who she's calling out.

Her eyes fix on my bare chest for a second before she shakes it off and turns around, marching her ass toward the couch.

"I don't expect your friends to be my friends, but it would've been nice if you'd introduced me to the people you hang out with so I didn't feel completely isolated here."

Her words hit me hard, and guilt settles in my stomach. I hadn't even thought about it like that, and now I feel like a complete dick.

"I'm sorry, Mills. I didn't think."

She assures me, "It's fine," but I refuse to fall into the trap. We all knowfineis code for "I'm two seconds away from fucking you up, and it won't be the fun kind."

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