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“Get your jacket.”

“Charming as always.”

Aspen immediately launches into a retelling of the festival, making sure to include the prizes, the corrupt pumpkin judges and the surprise cupcakes. Rory looks at me with a shit-eating grin through the entire story.

“I should probably head home,” Blair says once Aspen finally pauses for breath.

“I’ll drive you.”

She looks toward Aspen. “You don’t have to. I can ask G to pick me up.”

“I can stay here,” Rory offers casually. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

I look at my sister.

She gives me the smallest smirk.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Then again, so do I. It’s the reason I told her to come over.

Blair crouches in front of Aspen. “Thanks for letting me crash your day, little sunflower.”

Aspen throws her arms around Blair’s neck. “You can come over whenever you want.”

Blair laughs as she hugs her back, but my chest does something fucking stupid.

“Careful, Pen,” I warn her. “She might hold you to that.”

“Good.”

A few minutes later, Blair and I are alone in the truck, and it becomes abundantly clear that neither of us can hide behind alcohol tonight.

Blair breaks the silence first. “You’re very quiet.”

“Thinking,” I tell her, tightening my hands around the steering wheel.

“That sounds dangerous.” She shifts in her seat to face me, amusement threading through her voice.

I glance at her before returning my attention to the road. “You have no idea.”

Blair shifts slightly in her seat. “So…”

“So, what?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.

“I’m not drunk tonight.”

Fuck.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “I noticed.”

“And?”

I can feel her watching me.

“And you’re making it very fucking difficult to concentrate on driving.”

Her lips twitch. “Sounds like a you problem.”