Page 150 of Broken Trust
We end the call, but I’m already looking at my keys again. Becauseoverreactedis putting it mildly. I was ten seconds away from driving into town, five beers in, and pulling her out of that bar myself.
That’s the problem.
Jovie
The crunch of tires over gravel pulls me out of the haze I’ve been floating in since tequila shot number … honestly, who knows?
I laugh at something Royce said from the front seat of the truck as he twists around to look at me. Or maybe it’s Micah. They’re both blurry right now.
“Text us when you’re inside,” one of them orders as the truck stops in front of the row of cabins.
“I’m a fully functioning adult,” I inform them.
The silence that follows tells me nobody believes that.
Rude.
The truck door swings open, and cold Wyoming night air slaps me right in the face. I suck in a sharp breath and wobble sideways in my stupid heels.
Okay. Maybe not fully functioning.
I catch myself on the doorframe and glare down at the brown leather sandals currently trying to murder me.
“Dammit,” I mutter.
Royce snorts from the front seat as Cabe’s door opens, and he rushes around the hood of the truck.
“I forgot what a sloppy drunk you are,” he says as he grabs my arm and steadies me.
“I am not. These shoes are just stupid,” I say as I kick them off into the gravel.
“Okay,” Cabe says. “Let’s get you inside.”
“I’m fine now. I can walk inside by myself.”
He gives me a skeptical look.
I reach down and pluck my sandals from the ground and wave them in his face. “All good now.”
“Night, Jovie!” Micah calls out the open window.
“Night!”
“You sure you’re okay?” Cabe asks again.
“Positive.”
I fish my keys from my purse. Then I go up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
“I’ll call you in the morning,” he says before getting back behind the wheel and pulling away.
I stand there for a second in the moonlight between the cabins, clutching my purse against my chest while the world tilts ever so slightly beneath my feet.
The music from the bar still hums in my bloodstream. My skin is warm from dancing. My cheeks ache from smiling too much.
And somewhere in the middle of all that tequila and laughter and flirtatious texting, I decided to tell Axle Trust I wanted to run my fingers through his chest hair.
Oh God.
