Keeping Tabs

Chapter 15

“Well, if I don't have a choice. . .” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him. He laughed as he grabbed his second drink, then downed it in one shot. He motioned toward my glass.

“Come on, lightweight! Let's do this, doll!” He joked, his hand tracing lightly against my back. He glanced at my face to gauge my reaction, and then slid his arm around my waist when I didn't object. I finished my first drink, then downed my second as he had.

“I told you. I'm no lightweight!” I said, laughing at his surprised look. He laughed as he stood up, and I thought our date was over already. I was surprised when he didn't walk away, instead holding his hand out to me.

“Dance with me, and I'll actually believe you!” He shouted, yelling over the music blaring from the speakers. I followed him to the dance floor, and he spun me around as soon we reached it. We spent the rest of the night dancing until the bar closed, when we walked to the parking lot together. After over a dozen drinks, I knew I was in no shape to drive, but I didn't want to hear the word “lightweight” again.

He hugged me and slipped his number into the crevice between my breasts, his fingers lingering just a moment too long for society’s sake. When he'd turned and walked away, I got into Micah's car and locked the doors, planning to sleep it off right there. I pulled the slip of paper bearing his number out of my bra, unfolding it so I could read it, hoping there was a name attached. Jared. I instantly liked the name as soon as I read it.

A hard tap on my window several minutes later scared the crap out of me, but I was happy to see my newly named guitar player standing there, making goofy faces at me through the glass until I laughed. I rolled down the window so we could talk.

“Car trouble?” He asked.

“No.”

“Damn. So then what's up?” He asked, truly looking disappointed that I wasn't broke down.

“Nothing,” I said, and he gave me a comically skeptical look. I didn't want to tell him the truth, but I could see that he was going to stand there until I told him the truth.

After the longest stare down of my life, I finally fessed up, “Too drunk. Can't drive. I was just gonna sleep here.”

He shook his head as he reached into the car, pulling up the lock before he opened my door, holding his hand out to me. I looked up at him, bewilderment crossing my face. When I didn't move, he smiled and asked, “My place? We can walk to it.”

“I don't really think I should. I'm not really the type to-”

“No expectations. No pressure. I'll be a gentleman, this time.” He replied, cutting off my protests with a wave of his hand. A sly smile played across his lips, telling me that he was probably lying about that last part. I was definitely in trouble, but I was too drunk and too interested to worry about it just then.

“Yeah, right,” I muttered as I finally got out of the car, stumbling enough to make him catch me before I hit the pavement. I staggered around the car, and I heard him laughing as he locked the car up for me, grabbing my keys and purse for me.

I almost made it to the end of the parking lot before I tripped over my own feet. He caught me again, laughing at my lack of coordination, and even I had to giggle to myself. Thankfully, his apartment was in Tigerland, less than two blocks away from the bar. He held me up most of the way there, but we managed. When we reached his front door, I told him that I wasn't doing anything with him, and that I'd sleep on the couch.

“OK. Couch or bed, same difference.” He laughed. When he opened the door, I realized why he was laughing. His apartment consisted of bare white walls, a tiny kitchen, a TV that sat on the floor, and a sleeper sofa that appeared to always be pulled out into a bed.