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He nods and stands up in front of me. “Okay,” he whispers as he kisses the top of my head.
We turn back to the group and talk with everyone. The night has morphed into an awkward ball of tension. No one is sure how they should act or what to say. But I do my best to ignore the weirdness and continue bowling and drinking.
But when the night ends, everyone is quick to leave. Too quick. And, unfortunate for me, I am too inebriated to drive and Gavin is the only person standing beside me.
Fuck. My. Life.
Chapter Fourteen
Gavin
Since I took an Uber to the bowling alley, I assumed I would leave with Micah. Assumed he and I would hang after. But that is not how things happened. Instead, Micah changed his shoes and headed out without a word. When I shot him a text to check on him, his response was lackluster.
Micah: We’ll catch up another time bro.
Lame. But after the whole debacle in the bowling alley, I don’t blame him. And I am a shitty friend for ignoring him most of the night. Something I need to correct. But not now.
Because now I am driving Cora’s car and following her slurred directions. Toward her house. Just me and her. Alone. And my nerves zap like live wires.
Not so sure this is the best idea. But there was no way in hell I would let her get behind the wheel when she consumed close to a pitcher of beer after our talk. Erin or Shelly could have driven her home, but then she would have had to worry about her car tomorrow.
It is easier for me to drop her home and catch an Uber back to the hotel. To make sure she gets home safely. To make sure she gets inside and locks the door. At least that is what I keep telling myself.
She slurs from the passenger seat as she points like a madwoman at the exit sign. “Take exit Drew. Snot so much traffic,” she snorts. “I said snot.”
I shake my head and laugh at her. The last time I saw her, we were too young to drink. Not that age stops people from drinking alcohol, but we didn’t back then. Seeing her like this, I’m not quite sure how I feel about it.
Is this a normal thing for her? Going out with her friends and getting hammered. Does she drink heavily and drive after? Does she get wasted with that Jonas prick around? My blood boils at the idea. Has he tried to make a move on her while she was tipsy or drunk?
Fuck.
Just the thought of her with another guy pisses me off. Not like I expected her to not move on or see other people after everything. Hell, I did my best to soothe my crippled heart. Had meaningless sex with countless women. Tried to date. None of it stuck, though.
But seeing another man near Cora—his interest in her far beyond friendship—was a smack in the face. My blood turned molten and I was pumped and ready to kick his ass. If she hadn’t been there to stop me, I probably would have and regretted it later.
What intrigues me most is how Cora thinks this Jonas prick only wants to be friends with her. Is she blind to the way he looks at her? Or how eager he is to touch her? Their hug earlier… the way he stroked her cheek and hair after she fell… Fuck. Either she is oblivious or doesn’t want to believe.
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I can’t let these thoughts fester inside me. I need to know what sort of relationship exists between Cora and this Jonas guy. She doesn’t owe me anything, and I would be shocked if she answers me, but I have to ask.
“Hey,” I start, and she looks over at me. “What’s up with you and this Jonas guy?”
She tilts her head to the side and remains silent in the passenger seat. After a minute, she starts laughing. At first, it is her typical laugh, but then it morphs into hysterics and snort-laughing. And then she laughs at her own snort-laughing. It’s kind of cute.
This goes on for another minute until she tells me to turn left at the next light. We take a left and another left a couple blocks later. Less than a quarter mile later and we are parked in her driveway.
She still hasn’t answered my question and I wonder if she even remembers I asked it. We sit in silence after I cut the engine and neither of us moves to get out.
“He’s just a friend,” she whispers into the quiet, her voice somber. “I know he wants to be more than friends, and it’s crossed my mind on occasion, but we’ve been friends too long to ruin it. At least that’s my opinion.”
She sounds more sober than she did fifteen minutes ago and I wonder if it is the topic at hand or if she wasn’t that drunk to begin with. I don’t plan on asking her. But if she will keep talking, I will probe for more.
“If he asked you,” I hesitate, unsure if I want to know her truth. I search her eyes, wondering if she can read me in the darkness of the car. Her eyes used to read me like a book. She knew all my answers before I did. Knew all my tells. “If he asked you, would you guys be together?”
Her silhouette is all I see in the car as a light on the back of her house casts an aura around her. I am unable to see what she thinks, but I feel her eyes scan over every part of my face. Look into the windows of my soul. Wonder what would provoke me to ask her. Memorize the curves along my cheekbones in search for a twitch or indication of doubt. She studies the line of my jaw and waits for me to speak more. I may not be able to see her face, but with the angle of the light I know she sees mine.
She reaches toward me, finds my hand in the dark and wraps it in hers. “I… I don’t think so,” she whispers, her words clear. “He’s a great guy and has been a good friend. It’s just…” She shakes her head. “Relationships and me haven’t had the best of luck in my adult life. So, I just do the friend thing with sporadic dating. But never the same guy for more than one date.”
