Arranged •{ONC 2020}•

《 Chapter Five 》

"Woah, there." Dylan steadied her. His hand felt like fire against her already burning skin. "I think you've had enough to drink for one night."

She groaned in response and waited for her vision to clear up. It didn't.

"I think we should get you home, yeah?" He helped her off the barstool and wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Come on."

She caught a whiff of cologne on his shirt. Calvin Klein. She started breathing through her mouth after that.

They were almost at the club's exit. At least, she hoped they were. Her vision was getting splotchier by the second and her legs felt like jello.

"Ashlynn!"

She stopped dead in her tracks. A pair of familiar blue eyes appeared in the flood of people entering the club. Within moments, Wesley stood in front of her, concern written all over his face.

"'Scuse us," Dylan spoke gruffly and tried to move around him.

Wesley moved to block their path. "Who are you?"

"Dylan. Who are you?"

"Her fiancé. I'll take her from here." With that, Wesley reached to pry Ashlynn free from Dylan's grasp, but they stepped away from him.

"She's not really fond of you. I think I'll take her home."

"Her aunt sent me to take her home."

The men glared at one another. Ashlynn felt like she was standing in the middle of a Mexican standoff. Well, she technically wasn't standing anymore.

Wesley caught her before she hit the ground and swept her up into his arms—bridal style. "Thanks for your help, Dylan, but I'll take care of her from here." He stalked off before Dylan could respond, leaving the latter with his mouth hanging open and his fists clenched.

Ashlynn grumbled and tried to push him away. The smell of Calvin Klein was much stronger now.

"We really must stop meeting like this, Ash," Wesley chuckled humorlessly as he carried her through the growing crowd.

"Ashlynn."

"We can argue about that later. Come on," he nudged the door open and walked out into the cold night air. "Let's get you home."

Arnold sat waiting for them in his car a few parking spots away. Wesley gently placed her into the backseat, carefully buckled her in, then went around to his side and slid in next to her.

His eyes wandered over the black minidress she was wearing. She looked nice with a sweetheart neckline, especially with her hair tied up in a not-so-messy bun. He met her gaze and looked away, his ears burning.

"Keep your eyes t' yourself," Ashlynn slurred, fixing him with a glare. She pulled the bobby pins out of her bun and let her dark locks fall around her shoulders. "...Why'd you come?"

Wesley glanced in her direction, hoping to catch a glimpse of the face she was making. She was hiding behind a curtain of hair. "Your aunt told me to. She was worried you'd drink yourself under the table and sleep there until morning."

Ashlynn peeked at him through her hair. He was making that unreadable expression of his again. Feeling somewhat emboldened by the alcohol, she decided to poke him a little. "Liar."

He arched his brow at that, but the rest of his face stayed the same. "How so?"

"You," she jabbed his shoulder—his sturdy shoulder that she had just been drooling on—with her forefinger, "were worried 'bout me."