Girl Crush(17)

The moment I stumbled out the door, Luke caught me by the elbow. Just as I spun on my heel, I landed in none other than Collier’s arms who broke my pending fall.

“Whoa. You okay?”

I didn’t know which guy had asked. I was too busy trying to keep my balance to pay attention to who spoke. Once back on unsteady footing, I righted myself and attempted to straighten my spine. I looked toward the sidewalk, ready to cuss the step I hadn’t seen, but the ground was smooth. I’d tripped over my own feet, which answered the question about whether I needed to be behind the wheel.

“Hey, Luke. I’m going to take Giselle home. I’ll catch you later.”

I stared up at him. He suddenly seemed much taller and dwarfed me in size when he wrapped his meaty arm around me to help me to my car. Wait, no…his car. “I need to take my car. I have to get to work in the morning.” The words were way more slurred than I expected them to be.

“There’s no way in hell you’re driving anywhere.” He continued in the opposite direction of my Camaro, and I wasn’t in a position to argue.

My escort said nothing further. Even when we reached his shiny, red Porsche, he just opened the door, helped me in, and then pulled the seatbelt across my waist and buckled it. With me safely inside, he closed the door and rounded the car. He didn’t ask for my address, and I didn’t offer. Instead, I sat back and enjoyed the smooth ride, and hoped at some point, he’d let me behind the wheel. Clearly not tonight, but one day. I rolled the window down, hoping the fresh air would sober me up a tad. I wasn’t knee-walking drunk, but I was close. With my eyes closed, the breeze cooled my warm cheeks and aired out my overheated body. Slowly, I began to come down from my orgasm-induced high.

When the car stopped, and I heard him pull the emergency brake, I chanced peering through a slit in my heavy eyelids, only to find us in front of his house.

“What are we doing here?” I didn’t have the energy to put up much of a fight and wasn’t positive my feet would carry me to the door.

“You couldn’t drive. You’ll need a ride in the morning. I wasn’t interested in gallivanting all over town. You can borrow some of my sister’s pajamas and sleep in one of the guest rooms. I’ll drop you off at your car in the morning.” His mouth hung open as though he was about to say something else but stopped himself.

I wanted to be irritated, but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to form any sort of cohesive argument, and he didn’t have to do anything. He could have left me at the bar to wrap my Camaro around a tree. I opted to pout as he got out of the vehicle and came around to my door, repeating the steps in reverse order he’d completed to get me in here. Except, when I stood and nearly fell, his thick arms swooped under my legs and behind my back to carry me inside.

“I don’t know what it is with the women my sister picks. Not a damn one of you has your shit together,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t care. I wasn’t interested in his opinion of me, but I didn’t fight the free ride inside. He took me down the same hall toward Beck’s room, but stopped at the first door and set me on the bed.

“I’ll be back. Stay here.”

I wondered if he could possibly communicate in any fewer syllables. Grunting like a caveman was even less attractive than the asshole demeanor he’d presented in the driveway the night I’d met him. I’d seen him a total of three times, and each one, a different personality had reared its head. I giggled as I thought of each one having a different name. I decided this was Brutus. Collier was the pretentious asshole in the driveway. And West was the nice guy who’d been worried about his twin. If there were many more, I wouldn’t be able to keep them straight.

He returned moments later and threw a T-shirt and pair of boxers my direction. “Beck’s door’s locked, and I refuse to interrupt anything that might be going on in there. These will work. There’s a bathroom.” He pointed to the door in the corner. “I’ll get you up in the morning to take you to your car.”

Suddenly, I felt like a child who’d been chastised. My voice was soft and meek when I said, “Okay. Thank you.”

Without another word, he closed the door to the bedroom and left me to myself. I needed sleep, but there was no way I was crawling into someone else’s bed, even alone, covered in bar funk. After a quick shower, I curled up into the most fantastic cocoon of slumber imaginable.

I’d just shut my eyes when the knock on the door came, and Brutus was back. “We need to go. Get up.” There was no way it was morning already, but sure enough, the sun shone through the blinds I hadn’t closed, and apparently, Beck’s brother wasn’t much of a morning person.

I groaned my frustration when I tossed the blankets back and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The room spun, and nausea took over. I barely made it to the bathroom to empty what was left of my stomach into the commode. Clutching the cool porcelain with my bare hands, it took everything I had not to press my face against the rim. Today was shaping up to be miserable.

“Giselle, move it. I’ll be in the car.”

Jesus. He’d given me like two minutes. I hadn’t even peed yet. Throwing up had taken precedence, but now I was afraid if I didn’t get out to the driveway, he’d leave, and I’d be stranded. I stood too quickly and the ground moved beneath me. I opted to rinse out my mouth instead of changing and grabbed my clothes to race to the front door.