Page 13 of Tempting the Player
“You—”
My truck horn blares, cutting off my answer, and Archer sticks his head out the driver’s side window. “Can we stop and get food? I’m starving.”
“Ooooh. Let’s hit the In-N-Out drive-thru.” Brogan opens the back door of my truck and pulls himself in.
I’m starting to wish I’d told them to grab an Uber home. I run a hand over my jaw. I shaved my beard two weeks ago and my smooth face still catches me off guard. “Can I give you a ride?”
“Oh, that’s okay. It looks like you have your hands full.”
I steal another glance at the guy with the Jeep. “It’s no problem.”
I hold open the door that Brogan just jumped in and motion for her to get in.
After a beat of hesitation, she finally relents. “Okay. If you’re sure it’s not a bother.”
“Not at all.”
She climbs in with me averting my gaze and wondering what the hell I’m doing. I shut her in, then through the open window say, “Give me one sec.”
As I get close, the guy pushes off the front of his red Jeep. He has his flask out again and this time I can smell the liquor.
“You’re the sober driver?”
He nods then hurriedly shoves his flask back into his pocket. “Yep. Someone need a ride?”
“Doesn’t a sober driver need to be, you know, sober?”
He tries to play it off. “I’m not drunk. Just a few sips between drop-offs.”
“That’s how people get hurt, thinking they’re invincible. I’d say you’re done for the night.”
He smiles, then realizes I’m not smiling back. His expression morphs into panic. “I- I- I can’t. I’m on sober driver duty until two. If my frat brothers find out, they’ll be pissed.”
“Pissed but not dead.” I step closer to him.
He looks up at me and for a few seconds I think he’s going to tell me to fuck off, but then he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
“What’s your name?”
“Pete.” He shuffles his feet uncomfortably. “Pete Richmond.”
“Pete Richmond,” I repeat his name, then pull out my phone and snap a pic of his license plate. “I have an old buddy that’s a local cop, I’ll let him know to look out for you.”
He grumbles something that I can’t quite make out.
I smile a little as I turn away from him. “Get home safe, Pete.”
Archer has the music blasting when I get behind the wheel of my truck. I look to the rearview mirror to find Jane’s gaze, then slide my attention over to Brogan. He’s sitting in the middle, an arm around the back of the seat behind her.
Ignoring the way that annoys me, I put the truck in drive and pull away from the party. No one talks until the song ends.
Brogan leans forward over the console. “Are we swinging by In-N-Out?”
“I’m not your taxi.”
“Booo,” Arch draws out the word. “You’re no fun anymore, Hen. No fun at all.”
I bite my tongue. No, I’m not fun anymore. He’s right about that, but I don’t expect him to understand. The past two years of my life have been all about making sure he, Knox, and Flynn don’t need to worry about anything. That kind of responsibility tends to put a damper on fun.
