Page 897 of One More Kiss

I shook my head. "She's calling me an Uber, and then she's all yours." I offered up the biggest smile to her that I could.

Once we were outside, she turned to me. "You didn't have to do that."

"No, I didn't, but I wanted to. I'll be fine once I'm in my bed. Just call me an Uber. I'm too lazy to get out my phone."

I didn't want her to cut her night short. The only thing I hated more than my panic attacks was when they inconvenienced other people. We stood on the curb, which was just as crowded, but the air felt good, and I was slowly returning to Earth. Emphasis on slowly.

"Okay, your Uber will be here in a couple of minutes." She shoved her phone back into her pocket. "A black Subaru Outback. Are you sure you don't want me to—"

"Hey!" a guy called out behind us.

We turned around to find Salvatore's friend standing there. "Brendon wants to know when you're coming back inside?"

It was weird that he hadn't come out, but I looked at Victoria and smiled. "Go."

"But—"

"Vee, I'm fine. Now go."

She hugged me and squealed as she held me at arm's length. "You're the best. Call me if you need me."

I took in a breath and let it out. It all seemed so unfair. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a drag. Nobody ever did.

Tears began resurfacing, and I did my best to push them back. The Uber pulled up to the curb, and I checked the back to make sure it was the right kind of car.

A group of guys clamored out of it, and I turned to get in. One of them held open the door for me.

"Thanks." I didn't bother looking up.

He leaned forward over the door in front of me, so I had to stop. "Sure thing, Tate."

I stared at him. I didn't make eye contact often, but he knew my name.

His hair was deep brown, tousled by the night breeze. And his eyes were the color of whiskey. Smoldering wasn't even the right word for the way they gazed down at me. They were hypnotizing.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and my face flushed hot. I stole my eyes away, got into the car, and yanked the door closed behind me. As the Uber pulled away from the curb, my heart was pounding. But it had nothing to do with my panic attack and everything to do with…whoever he was.

I kept hearing his voice, bouncing around in my mind like a ping pong ball.

The way he said my name. Tate. Tate. Tate.

* * *

It was Friday afternoon,and I was in bed as usual. Netflix and chill—without the chill. I was on season two of Outlander. I'd been hooked from the first episode. Season one was crazy. Who knew that men in kilts could be so hot?

My TV turned off. "What the—"

Vee stepped into my periphery, where she held up the remote. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah. Time to watch Jamie and Claire have more kilted sex. What gives?"

She put her hand on her hip. "What gives is that it's the weekend, and you have no plans."

"And this surprises you because…?" I had no clue why she wasn't used to this by now.

Victoria's face softened as she took a seat next to me. "Tate, I get that you’re having a hard time this year with your grandma passing away."

I looked away, swallowing hard. I didn't want to do this.

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