Trust in Me(86)

            “You’re not?” I arched a brow. “You’re drunk.”

            “Am not!”

            “A drunk’s famous last words before they fall flat on their face.”

            “That has not happened . . . yet.”

            I shook my head as I took ahold of her arm. We needed to talk and the fact that she was here probably meant she wanted to. Or she wanted to hook up with one of the random guys here. I didn’t know what, because who the fuck ever knew what was going on in this girl’s head, but nothing was happening. She was taking her little drunk ass back to her apartment. Any number of those guys in the living room would love to find themselves between her thighs and I didn’t know exactly how far gone she was. I wasn’t her babysitter. Fuck, I wasn’t anything to her.

            “Um . . .” she said, frowning when I led her to the stairwell and closed the door behind us. She looked up at me, confused.

            I pointed to her door. “You need to go home, Avery.”

            Her mouth dropped open as she stared at me. “Are you serious?”

            “Yes. I’m fucking serious. You’re drunk and that shit is not going down in front of me.”

            “What shit?” She took a step back. “I’m sorry. Ollie invited me—”

            “Yeah, and I’m going to kick his ass later.” I took my hat off and ran my hand through my hair. “Just go home, Avery. I’ll talk to you later.”

            Avery swallowed heavily. “You’re mad at me—”

            “I’m not mad at you, Avery.” I was mad at the fucking world right at the moment.

            She looked at me and then quickly glanced away, but not quick enough. I saw the sudden sheen in her eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit.

            “I don’t want to go home. There’s no one there and I . . .”

            That spot in my chest throbbed. “I’ll come over later and we’ll talk, okay? But go home. Please, just go home.”

            Her mouth opened and then snapped shut. “Okay.”

            The ache grew. “Avery . . .”

            “It’s totally okay.” She smiled, but it wasn’t real and it was full of hurt—hurt I knew I put there. She turned and shuffled to her door, and with a low curse, I went back into my apartment.

            “Everything okay?” Jase asked as I headed into the kitchen for another beer. Or three.

            “No.” I screwed off the lid and tossed it in the trash.

            His dark brows rose. “Are you not okay because she was here or because she left?”

            “I made her leave.”

            Jase glanced over as Ollie entered the kitchen. I took one look at the pothead. “I should kick you in the balls.”

            Ollie didn’t laugh it off. He stared at me with a level look. “Did you just make that poor girl leave?”

            “Poor girl?” I sputtered.

            “Yeah, you know, the girl you’ve been obsessed with since August? She finally came over and you kick her out of the apartment.”

            I stared at him as I took off my hat, tossing it onto the counter. “Are you high? You have no idea what has been going on between us.”

            “Ollie,” Jase warned.

            “You’re right. I don’t know what’s going on, but—”