Page 40 of The Potter

“Vance, wake up.” I’m pushed into something cold and hard. “I need you to get in the car. Can you do that?”

I can vaguely make out her frown in the dark. “You’re not driving my fuckin’ car,” I mumble out, incoherently.

The valet opens the door, and she ignores me, giving me a shove. “I sure am, and you’re going to shut up while I do it.”

My ass hits the seat as the restaurant starts spinning around us. “This car is worth—”

She cuts me off. “Yeah, yeah. More than I make in a lifetime. I’m sure it drives just as well as an old Ford.” She leans over me, her smile a clear indication that she’s enjoying my drunkenness. “Do you need me to help you buckle up, Big Texas?”

“That’s a stupid nickname,” I tell her, reaching for the seat belt and finding nothing.

Great, tomorrow is going to be real fun.Good decision-making tonight, Vance.

I try for the seat belt once more, and she stops me. “Let me.”

If I were sober, I would adamantly refuse, but as of this moment, I doubt I could work the latch, so I lean back and savor the smell of her perfume as she reaches across me and secures the belt. “I kind of like you restrained, Dr. Potter,” she muses, giving the belt a little tug.

“Cute.” She has no idea the line she’s toeing with such comments.

She chucks my chin. “Don’t worry, Dr. Potter. I promise not to take advantage of you while you’re in such an inebriated state.”

Somehow, I keep my mouth shut and don’t tell her that I wish she would. It’s been over a year since I’ve been with a woman. After Logan, I fucked every woman I could—including Serena. I thought it would chase away the demons of what I’d done. My brother would be so pleased to know that the reason we have a no-fraternization policy is because of me, not him. Things were out of control—Iwas out of control. I needed to get a handle on my behavior and nip whatever idea was forming in Serena’s head, hence the policy.

It was a dick move.

One I will never make again.

“All right, where to, boss?”

Halle adjusts my seat and rearview mirror, looking incredibly out of place.

“Let’s just call an Uber. I can pick up my car tomorrow.”

She waves me off. “Don’t be silly. I can drive us. You know, us women can do more than bear children.”

Sarcasm is basically the truth wrapped in humor. “Is that the vibe I give off? That I only think women are good for bearing children?” Not that the idea doesn’t sound appealing. Halle’s body, with her smooth curves, beckons to be made round with a child—preferably mine.

Fuck, I really am drunk. Having children with any woman has never crossed my mind. My patients are my primary concern. I don’t have time for anyone else.

Halle chews on her bottom lip, and I struggle to stay focused. “No, I suppose not. It’s just alpha men tend to have simplistic views of women’s roles in society.”

I think I arch a brow. “I don’t recall ever saying such a thing.” I’d like to ask her if that’s what the dickbag who hit her with his truck said to her all the time, but I don’t. When I brought him up earlier, she clammed up, and maybe it’s because I’ve had a rough day or the fact that I’m shitfaced, but the last thing I want is to be alone with my thoughts. The irony is, the more Ms. Belle talks, the less crappy I feel.

It’s a shame that her perception of me is less than admirable. I can be a nice guy when my entire life and career aren’t crumbling before me.

“You’re right,” she admits. “You’ve never suggested women weren’t equals. Guess my past is bleeding through.” The corner of her lip tilts up into a smile. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Leaning forward, I focus on the onboard screen and set the GPS to route us to my house.

“Thank you,” she says softly, putting the car in drive.

I steel my nerves as she pulls out of the driveway and onto the road. “Not bad,” I praise.

She side-eyes me, her hands never leaving the wheel. “Did you think I was going to crash as soon as I pulled out”

Okay, so I’m not doing myself any favors here. “Not exactly,” I try to explain. “It’s just…” I exhale and close my eyes, letting my head fall against the headrest. “I haven’t been a passenger in years. I can’t remember what it feels like not to drive.”

There. She can do what she wants with that information.

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