“We took a break,” he offers.
“Looks like it’s over.”
Fender stays silent, analyzing the situation for…something. Although, if he can figure out why River’s over here instead of naked in the bathroom with his date, I’d love for him to fill me in.
“Never took you for the possessive type,” Fender announces casually after coming to some kind of conclusion.
“She just got out of a bad relationship. She doesn’t need to start another one,” River grits out.
“Or maybe she doesn’t need a relationship at all right now. Maybe she just needs to get laid.”
Blinking rapidly, I try to register what he just said, convincing myself that I’ve heard him wrong, and the alcohol is making me hear things. Honestly, with how much is thrumming through my veins right now, it’s definitely possible.
River turns back to me. “Is that what it is, Reese? You just wanna get laid?”
“H-he asked me to dance,” I stammer.
“Hear that, Fen? She signed up for a dance, not dry humping.”
I snort, and River glares down at me.
“Sorry,” I quip, “But I’d hardly call what we were doing dry humping. Fen”––I’m so glad River reminded me of his name––“has been a complete gentleman, thank you very much.”
The bastard’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t move a muscle. He looks like he belongs at the Met. Every muscle in his body is so tense with frustration that he could be a freaking statue.
“I’m sure he has,” he mutters after a beat of silence. “But he needs to get back to work now. I’ll drive you home.”
“Maybe I’m not ready to go home,” I argue. “Maybe Fender’s right. Maybe I do wanna get laid. Maybe I wanna pop my whore cherry––”
“I’m sorry, what the hell did you just say?” River bursts out. I can practically see the steam coming from his ears.
My hand slaps over my mouth as my eyes dart over to Gibbs. He’s too busy with a group of girls celebrating to help dig me out of the hole I just made for myself.
“We’re going,” River announces, grabbing my forearm with a gentle but firm grip. I shake out of it.
“Nope. I’m good here.”
“Bullshit. Your whore cherry?” he spits. “Not a chance in hell am I letting you out of my sight.”
“Then I guess you can watch me and Fender dry hump some more,” I return with a cocky smirk.
Turning around, I find Fender with his hands raised in surrender. “Sorry, Reese. But this is a whole new side of River, which makes him unpredictable as hell. I’m not gonna step into”––he waves his hands between us––”that. However, when River gets bored, you should come find me.” Raising his chin to River, he adds, “Good luck, man. She seems feisty.” Then he heads back to the stage. Leaving me alone. With a manwhore who, for some reason I can’t identify, has cockblocked me.
Asshole.
“You’re annoying,” I declare with a scowl.
His mouth twitches. “Ditto. Let’s go home.”
The warmth of his hand seeps through my shirt as he places it against my lower back, but I don’t move an inch. “I need to tell Gibbs where I’m going. He was going to drive me home at the end of his shift.”
With a jerky nod, a frustrated River rocks back on his heels. “I’ll be at the front door.”
Fender’s gritty voice flows through the speakers as he announces the next set of songs they’ll be playing while I walk a not-so-straight line back to the bar and flag Gibson down.
“Hey, bartender! I need to talk to you!”
Raising his finger for me to give him a second, he finishes chatting with a big guy in a dark suit then answers me. “I’m not giving you any more whiskey.”
“You’re no fun,” I pout.
“Someone’s gotta take care of you.”
“Pretty sure that job has already been filled for the night by your party pooper roommate.”
“Our party pooper roommate,” he corrects me. “I didn’t see Jake walk in, though.”
Confused, I replay our conversation before snorting. “No, not that party pooper roommate. The other one.” I hook my thumb over my shoulder toward the front door where River promised he’d be waiting for me.
Eyes bulging, Gibson’s spine straightens before he turns back to me and drops his voice low. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Looks like you’re the shiny new toy despite Milo’s warning.”
“What warning?” I slur.
“Nothing.” He curses under his breath before sighing. “Be careful, Reese. Like I said, River’s a good guy. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine, Gibbs. He’s just giving me a ride.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mutters.
“Huh?”
“That he’ll give you a…ride,” he emphasizes the word, “but that’s it.”
My mouth quirks up, showcasing my dimple at the fun little pun before I sober at Gibson’s concern. “I meant in the car. But I’ll be fine, Gibbs. I’ll see you at home?”
“Be careful, yeah?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, ignoring the way he’s kinda, sorta, spinning. “I’ll be careful.”
He sets a bottle of water in front of me. “And take this with you.”
“Yes, sir.” I salute him before grabbing the water and walking back to River at the front door.
“You ready?” he asks gruffly.
“Yup.”
“Good.” He opens the door, but my foot snags on the lip of the threshold as I attempt to step over it. Preparing myself for a nasty fall, my arms straighten in front of me before a hand wraps around my waist and catches me.
“Come on, Reese,” River mutters under his breath. But he keeps his arm wrapped around me as he guides me.
Giving in, I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, soaking up the stolen moment that I know is a mistake. I just don’t care. I can hide behind the excuse that it’s okay to do this because I’m inebriated and don’t know what I’m doing. I can hide behind the lie that I’d be leaning against anyone right now, ignoring the truth that I kind of like when I’m with him. Even though he annoys me like no one else on the planet. Even though my brother told me he’s off-limits. And even though I just got out of a shitty relationship that basically put my life on hold.
River’s crawled under my skin in such a short amount of time that it scares me, and the only thing that seems to soothe the ache is him. His touch. His annoyed sighs. His snarky remarks.
All of it.
Maybe Jake’s right. Maybe I don’t know how to stand on my own. Maybe I really do search for my self-worth in guys and the attention they’re willing to toss my way. Maybe Ian is right too. Maybe he’s the only guy who could ever want me like that. Maybe I’m imagining the chemistry between River and me.
And maybe I’m too drunk to be thinking at all right now.
I don’t know how long I’m lost in my thoughts, but I do know that River hasn’t pushed me away.