“Call from Archer,” the robotic voice announces, interrupting the loud music playing in my ears.
I tap my ear bud to accept and place my free hand on the bag in front of me to steady it. “Arch?”
“No, it’s Brogan.” His voice is barely audible over the background noise. “Arch is currently unavailable.”
“I’m available. I’m so fucking available,” I hear my brother shout.
“Is he wasted?” I ask.
“He might have had a little too much to drink. Are you busy? Our sober ride is taking forever and I’m not sure how much longer before he passes out cold.”
I push the bag away with a sigh. “Where are you?”
Five minutes later I pull up in front of the address Brogan recited. Cars line the street in both directions. Instead of looking for a parking space, I flip on my hazards and get out. I pass a guy in a red Jeep doing the same thing. He gets out of the driver’s seat, takes a sip from a silver flask, and then slides it into his front jeans pocket. He gives me a head nod as he leans against the front of his vehicle and pulls out his phone.
I can hear the party going on in the back of the house and a few more people are coming and going, but my brother and his best friend are easy to spot. Brogan is holding up a smiling Archer as he sings an old Nirvana song, loud and perfectly on key. He has a pretty good voice considering his hearing loss.
“Dear god, you reek,” I say as I get close enough to get a big whiff of the alcohol and beer clinging to them like a second skin.
“Henny!” Arch throws both arms up in the air and then stumbles forward.
I catch his fall and hold him up. “Hey, Arch.”
“What are you doing here?” His brow knits in confusion and then his eyes widen with excitement. “Do you want to party?”
“I think you partied enough for the both of us. I’m your sober ride.”
“Somebody looking for a sober ride?” The guy leaning on his Jeep asks, looking up from his phone.
“I’ve got them,” I call over my shoulder, sending him a glare. Fucking sober driver taking pulls from a flask? Real nice.
“Ah, you’re no fun anymore.” Arch reaches over and rubs his hand over my hair, attempting to mess it up like I’m a kid. “You used to be way cooler.”
“I’m sure I did.” I tilt my head toward my truck. “Let’s go. I’m blocking the street.”
“Ah shit.” Brogan pats his front jeans pockets, then his back. “My phone is inside. Two minutes. I know right where I left it.”
“Hurry,” I say. “I’ll get Arch in the truck.”
He takes off and I focus on getting my very drunk, very heavy brother into the passenger seat of my truck.
“How did you get this plastered?” I ask as he attempts to pull off his sweatshirt and gets himself all tangled up.
“Alcohol. Lots and lots of it.”
I free him from the sweatshirt, and he leans back in the seat and closes his eyes.
“Buckle up,” I say as I pull the belt and nudge him with it. Reluctantly, he takes it and buckles before I shut the door. As I’m rounding the back of my truck, I come up short when I see her. She walks in a way it’s hard not to notice her. Long legs and that confident, bouncy stride.
Jane’s steps slow when she sees me. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, the green ends swaying around her shoulders. Bright pink lips pull into a wide smile. “I’m starting to think you’re following me.”
“Hey,” I say, trying out a smile.
“Are you just getting here?”
“Kind of.”
She waits for me to elaborate. I’ve never been a real talkative guy, but with her I struggle to keep my answers short and precise. No more information than absolutely necessary.
“I’m playing designated driver for my brother and his friend.”
The corners of her lips pull higher. “You have a brother at Valley U too?”
I nod at the same time Brogan jogs up to the truck holding his phone. “Sorry. Got it.”
Jane glances at him and then back to me. Brogan does the same thing, looking between us.
“Brogan is your brother?” she asks.
He grins and tosses an arm around my neck. “I’m his favorite brother.”
“He’s not my brother,” I say, then feel like shit when Brogan’s smile slips. He might not be a brother by blood, but he has been a part of our family for a long time.
Brogan regains his cocky smile. “How do you know Henny?”
“We keep bumping into each other.” Her green eyes flash with amusement under the streetlights.
The three of us continue to stand there as a car squeezes past my truck going the opposite way.
“Are you heading out?” I ask her, realizing she’s going to be alone out here when we get in the truck. Where are her friends? Or those idiots from last night?
“Yes. I have a French test in the morning, so I’m going to catch a sober ride.” She points to the red Jeep.
“You—”
My truck horn blares, cutting off my answer, and Archer sticks his head out the driver’s side window. “Can we stop and get food? I’m starving.”
“Ooooh. Let’s hit the In-N-Out drive-thru.” Brogan opens the back door of my truck and pulls himself in.
I’m starting to wish I’d told them to grab an Uber home. I run a hand over my jaw. I shaved my beard two weeks ago and my smooth face still catches me off guard. “Can I give you a ride?”
“Oh, that’s okay. It looks like you have your hands full.”
I steal another glance at the guy with the Jeep. “It’s no problem.”
I hold open the door that Brogan just jumped in and motion for her to get in.
After a beat of hesitation, she finally relents. “Okay. If you’re sure it’s not a bother.”
“Not at all.”
She climbs in with me averting my gaze and wondering what the hell I’m doing. I shut her in, then through the open window say, “Give me one sec.”
As I get close, the guy pushes off the front of his red Jeep. He has his flask out again and this time I can smell the liquor.
“You’re the sober driver?”
He nods then hurriedly shoves his flask back into his pocket. “Yep. Someone need a ride?”
“Doesn’t a sober driver need to be, you know, sober?”
He tries to play it off. “I’m not drunk. Just a few sips between drop-offs.”
“That’s how people get hurt, thinking they’re invincible. I’d say you’re done for the night.”
He smiles, then realizes I’m not smiling back. His expression morphs into panic. “I- I- I can’t. I’m on sober driver duty until two. If my frat brothers find out, they’ll be pissed.”
“Pissed but not dead.” I step closer to him.
He looks up at me and for a few seconds I think he’s going to tell me to fuck off, but then he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
“What’s your name?”
“Pete.” He shuffles his feet uncomfortably. “Pete Richmond.”
“Pete Richmond,” I repeat his name, then pull out my phone and snap a pic of his license plate. “I have an old buddy that’s a local cop, I’ll let him know to look out for you.”
He grumbles something that I can’t quite make out.
I smile a little as I turn away from him. “Get home safe, Pete.”
Archer has the music blasting when I get behind the wheel of my truck. I look to the rearview mirror to find Jane’s gaze, then slide my attention over to Brogan. He’s sitting in the middle, an arm around the back of the seat behind her.
Ignoring the way that annoys me, I put the truck in drive and pull away from the party. No one talks until the song ends.
Brogan leans forward over the console. “Are we swinging by In-N-Out?”
“I’m not your taxi.”
“Booo,” Arch draws out the word. “You’re no fun anymore, Hen. No fun at all.”
I bite my tongue. No, I’m not fun anymore. He’s right about that, but I don’t expect him to understand. The past two years of my life have been all about making sure he, Knox, and Flynn don’t need to worry about anything. That kind of responsibility tends to put a damper on fun.
At the end of the street, I go right at the stop sign, heading toward Jane’s house, and drive a bit before I turn down the music.
“Am I dropping you at home?” I ask her, meeting her gaze in the mirror again.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I spaced. You can stop anywhere on this street. I’m on the left a block or two up.”
Her house is four blocks up and I’m not dropping her just anywhere. Walking the street late at night would be a bad idea for anyone, let alone Jane. She can’t even go out in the daylight hours without being harassed. I don’t know how she does it. From everything I’ve seen, she handles it all with such ease. She’s unguarded and carefree despite the way people treat her like she’s not a real person.
There’s just something about her. She radiates this joy that makes simple interactions feel bigger. Even when I shouldn’t, I find myself watching her with an intrigue that throws me off balance.
“When’d you get here?” Arch asks, swiveling around to look in the back seat.
Jane’s laugh is soft and warm. “Around the same time you did, I think.”
“That’s cool.” He continues to stare, then points between her and Brogan. “Are you going home with him?”
“Arch.” My tone is a little harder than I intended.
“What? I’m just trying to figure out if I’m sleeping on the couch tonight,” my brother says and then keeps waiting for an answer.
“No,” she says, not sounding the least bit upset about his question. “Your brother is just giving me a ride home.”
“Why not?” Arch pushes. “Brogan is a pretty great guy. And girls seem to think he’s hot.”
She giggles and gives Brogan a quick once-over. “He’s not bad, but it sounds like you two have cuddling plans I wouldn’t want to get in the way of.”
“We share a room now that Henny is back,” Brogan says. “It’s not so bad. Like dorm rooms. As long as you and I stay under the covers, he won’t see anything.”
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
“Or we could make it a party and push the beds together,” Archer jokes. God, I hope he’s joking. That is not an image I want in my head.
“That’s enough,” I say as I lightly punch Arch’s leg and mouth the words again, so he understands.
“Lighten up, Hen.” Arch turns all the way back around.
Jane laughs, taking it all in stride. Fuck, maybe she’s into it. My grip tightens a little more.
She catches my eye again in the mirror right before I pull a U-turn in the road and park in front of her house. “Oh, this is my house here.”
I get out and open her door without thinking.
“Thanks for the ride.” She smiles as she pulls her skirt down and steps out of the truck. She smells like vanilla and coconut, the same way she did in front of the library and when I helped her off the bar at The Hideout. “You’re always coming to my rescue.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything.
“Well, I should get inside.” The music inside my truck increases in volume again. “Sounds like you’ve got a fun ride home in store.”
I wait while she walks around the back of the truck, and she stops on the sidewalk. “You should swing by and get them food.”
“Oh, I should, huh?” I arch one brow. I don’t like her being on their side for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on at the moment. Maybe I’m just tired of being the voice of reason and responsibility.
“Yeah. Drunk people are way less annoying when they’re fed. Plus, they’ll pass out as soon as their stomachs are full, and hopefully it’ll soak up some of the alcohol and they’ll be less hungover.”
I smile for real as she hits me with a big mega-watt grin like she’s just solved all my problems. I freaking wish.
