Page 22 of A Little Jaded
“Come on.” I rub my thumb along her cheek, realizing how smooth her skin is. Then, I drop my hand and grab the steering wheel. “Let’s get you home.”
“I can’t go ho—” Her words die on her tongue as I make a U-turn and head back to my place.
I wait for her protest, but she stays quiet. Part of me wants to ask if she’d like me to take her to her parents or something. A friend. A distant cousin. But the other part? I guess I already know the answer. If she had someone else, she would’ve called them.
Instead? She called me. And she might only be a favor to Reeves, but dammit, I’m grateful.
Now she has someone.
She has me.
At least for a little while.
CHAPTER NINE
RAINE
I’m exhausted. Like bone tired, never-want-to-open-my-eyes-again, exhausted. After restricting Drake’s access to track my location through my phone, I rested my temple against the cold passenger window and haven’t moved since. When Everett pulls up to his house, the front door is closed, and the porch light is on. People no longer litter the driveway, and the blinds are closed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it isn’t the same house.
The garage door lifts a second later, and Everett drives inside, cuts the ignition off, and turns to me in his seat. “You okay?”
“You’ve already asked me that question,” I point out.
He nods and, without another word, climbs out of the car. Honestly, it’s surprising how he isn’t forcing me to talk about something I don’t want to. If it was Drake? We would’ve gotten into a fight, and he would’ve accused me of shutting him out or hiding something, when really? I just want the quiet. The moment to process my thoughts without needing to justify them to another person. Is it so wrong? Then again, it doesn’t matter. Drake isn’t here, and if I never face himagain, it’ll still be too soon. At least I don’t have to worry about walking on eggshells anymore. It has to count for something, doesn’t it?
When I realize Everett’s waiting for me by the hood, I force my body to move, climb out of the car, and keep my jacket pulled snug around me as I meet Everett by the headlights. Satisfied, he heads inside. I follow without a word.
It’s quiet. Either everyone’s asleep or hiding in their rooms, but I appreciate it. The quiet.
“Do you want to shower?” Everett murmurs.
When I don’t answer right away, he glances over his shoulder at me, and I nod. “Actually, yeah. A shower would be great.”
“Follow me.” He guides me toward the same bathroom we hid in earlier tonight on the main floor and pushes the door open. “Fresh towels are in the cabinet. I’ll leave a change of clothes on my bed in the room across the hall.”
“I can wear these,” I offer.
Road salt stains the bottom half of my jeans, and he stares at the discolored fabric. “Would you feel better if I borrowed some of my sister’s clothes for you?” he asks.
“You have a sister?”
His mouth lifts with the ghost of a smile. “Yeah. Her name’s Finley. You’ll meet her tomorrow.”
Panic sparks inside of me. “Oh, I don’t?—”
“She lives here,” he explains. “At least until the contractor finishes renovating her place next door. Pretty sure she’ll track you down herself if I don’t introduce you in the morning.”
If I had my car, I’d plan to sneak out before anyone wakes up, but since it's not an option, I guess I have no choice. Meeting Everett’s family wasn’t part of the plan when I called him. But now the ball’s already rolling, so I’m not sure what else I can do to stop it. It’s not like I can tell him no, either.
Forcing a smile, I fold my arms. “Okay, then. Uh, don’t worry about the clothes, though. Or at least, not your sister’s. I feel weird borrowing a stranger’s things.”
“Then it looks like you’re stuck with mine.” He grabs the door handle and closes the bathroom door, cutting me off from him without giving me a chance to argue. As I stare at the solid piece of wood for at least thirty seconds, the night crashes into me along with all its messy implications.
What do I do now?
Rocking back on my heels, I fold my arms and catch my reflection in the mirror. I look awful. Stringy hair. Smudged makeup. Swollen lip. Blocking out the sight, I undress and turn on the faucet, making sure the stream of water is as scalding as possible in hopes of burning away the consequences of tonight. But I’m not stupid enough to believe it’ll work.
My shower is quick because even though the hot water feels like heaven on my muscles, I’m desperate for a bed, so I barely give myself any time to enjoy it. I want nothing more than to go to bed and pretend tonight never happened.