Page 36 of It Runs in the Family

“Pleeeassse.” I recognized I was slurring, so I made a conscious effort to enunciate my words more clearly. “How many women have you slept with?”

“What?” He sat up straighter and grinned. “I told you, I don’t kiss and tell, but I might be willing to tell you if you’re open to a game of truth or dare.”

“Okay,” I said, knowing this was a terrible idea, but Impulsive Iris wasn’t ready to hush up yet. “Tell me the truth. How many women have you slept with?”

“That’s not how the game works,” he said, relaxing back into his seat with one hand slung over the steering wheel. With the dashboard lights illuminating his face, he looked like a sexy angel.

His grin spread. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called a sexy angel before.”

My mouth dropped open, and before I could reason it out, I blurted, “Oh, my God, can you read minds?”

Was he like me? I’d never met anyone who could see the future before, although I’d come across a few fakes who’d claimed they could.

We could be like the X-Men.

But then I realized I’d blurted the sexy angel observation out loud, and his fresh laughter told me I’d shared the X-Men comment too.

“The X-Men, huh?” he asked, amused. “What power do you have, little Spitfire?”

I was sloppy drunk, but not so drunk that alarm bells weren’t ringing in my head. I couldn’t tell him about my visons, or he’d want to use me like most everyone else who knew. “That I can drink copious amounts of alcohol and not get drunk.”

He chuckled. “Oh, you’re drunk all right.” He turned to look at me again. “But you’re a cute drunk.”

I wrinkled my nose, about to protest, when he casually asked, “So, who did you run into when you came out of the bathroom?”

“How do you know I didn’t run into them before I went to the bathroom?” I countered.

A triumphant grin lit up his face, and I realized I’d just confirmed I’d encountered someone.

Come on, Iris. Get your shit together.

“For one thing,” he said in his breezy tone. “I watched you walk into the bathroom before I went into the bathroom myself, so unless the person you were running from was in the bathroom with you, you ran into them after you came out.”

“It was no big deal,” I said. “Just someone who tried to drown me once when I was sixteen.”

He jerked upright in his seat, his hand twisting on the steering wheel. “What?”

Oh shit. Drunk Iris was entirely too mouthy. “That was a joke,” I said. “I ran into someone I didn’t want to talk to. That’s all. No big deal.”

He looked like he didn’t believe me, or he was constipated. I couldn’t be sure which, because I was viewing him out of thin slits in my eyelids.

“I’m sleepy,” I said for some weird reason. It wasn’t like I needed to announce my bodily functions, although I’d abruptly told him I had to go to the bathroom, so maybe Drunk Iris announced them like they were airline departures.

“Nothing wrong with stating how you feel,” Boone said. “No reason to keep people guessing.”

Oh shit. I’d said that out loud too.

“And you said that too,” Boone said. “Since you’re tired, why don’t you close your eyes and take a nap? I’ll wake you up when we get to your apartment.”

“How do you know I live in an apartment?” I demanded, suddenly suspicious. “And how do I know you’re not going to take advantage of me?”

“Addressing your second question, since it seems more important, my mother would kill me if I ever took advantage of a drunk woman. Like, literally kill me.” He turned to face me. “And as for the first question, you told me earlier that you live in an apartment.”

“I did?” Funny, I couldn’t remember, but then again, most of the night was becoming fuzzy.

“Yeah, you did.” He paused, then sounded serious. “I swear, I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound, Iris.”

I knew I shouldn’t trust him. I’d just met the guy, and I was suspicious of everyone when I first met them—but I found myself trusting him, nonetheless. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, because my eyelids felt too heavy, and with the gentle sway of the moving truck, I promptly fell asleep.