Chapter 16 Fletcher
Fletcher
It may have seemed like a noble option at the time, but looking back, perhaps it hadn’t been my smartest move to suggest I be the one to drive the ladies home.
Even with plenty of room in the front of my truck for one of them to have joined me, all three decided to squeeze together in the back like a giggling pack of teenage girls.
The entire ride was pure chaos, with a mixture of off-key singing, questionable life advice, and worst of all, criticism of my driving skills.
For the record, I’m a fantastic driver.
Still, I’ve been amused the entire time. I like seeing this loud, goofy, and unfiltered side of Hollis. I’m aware it’s mostly the alcohol bringing out this unguarded version of her, but I’m pretty sure there are pieces of the real her coming through as well.
The disappointment builds as I pull my truck into the parking lot of Hollis’s apartment building. She’s my last drop-off, which means our night is officially coming to an end.
“You can just drop me off here. You don’t need to walk me to my door like you did with my friends,” Hollis says, pointing to where she wants me to stop. “Being the last one I’ve officially had more time to sober up. I’m totally fine now. Scouts honor,” she promises with a scout’s salute.
“Nope,” I say, ignoring her suggestion as I park my truck in a nearby stall, then turn to face her. “I told you earlier. This isn’t up for discussion. My job isn’t done until I know you’re safely inside.”
I’d have hated myself if anything happened to her friends, because somehow, despite their crazy antics, they’ve grown on me. But with Hollis it’s different. My need to protect her is primal, and there’s no way I could ever just drop her off and hope for the best.
“Plus, I’m pretty sure if something happened tonight, my career with the Honky Tonks would officially be over. Do you really want me to lose my job over this?” I ask, reaching into the backseat to unbuckle her seatbelt.
“Fine,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “I suppose I’d feel pretty bad if you lost your job at my expense.”
I send her a grateful nod before stepping out first. She reaches for the handle to open her door, but I’d thought ahead with the child lock. The last thing I need is her toppling out and falling onto the hard cement on my watch.
I open the door for her. She attempts to hop out, but it’s clear her claim of being sober is a complete lie—she’s still very much tipsy. Before she can try again, I grip her waist and lower her to the ground, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her hands instinctively find my shoulders for balance.
She’s staring up at me with wide, adoring eyes, and while I want to believe what she’s feeling is real, reality—and faint smell of lemon drop shots—hits.
I drop my hands. While I look forward to her looking at me like that again, and I’m confident she will, I’m hopeful it won’t only be after she’s drunk her body weight in alcohol.
“So where exactly are we heading?” I ask, glancing toward the building she’d pointed at earlier.
“Um,” she starts, glancing around as though I somehow just asked a trick question before her eyes finally land on a specific apartment, “that one.”
Thankfully, and by some miracle without me even having to push for it, she links her free hand through my arm as she lightly grips my bicep. Then again, as she stumbles after only a few steps it’s clear she needs the extra support. “Oopsies,” she giggles.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” I promise—and I do.
I will never let anything bad happen to her.
Not now.
Not ever.
She leads the way as we head up the stairs toward her second-story apartment, me holding her close as we walk.
“You, uh, want to come in?” she casually asks, dropping my arm.
She’s so goddamn pretty, and the offer is incredibly tempting, but I’m a fucking gentleman and already know I can’t take her up on it.
She must see what’s going on in my head, because she smiles.
“Don’t worry, or maybe you never were, but it’s just an offer from one friend to another. So please,” she begs, innocently blinking up at me from under her lashes. “I’m not quite ready for the night to end.”
“Alright, but only if you promise to be good,” I tease, amused at how the tables have finally turned.
“No promises,” she giggles, digging inside her purse before holding up a key as though she’s just discovered the lost buried treasure. She attempts to put it in lock, but fumbles, struggling to line it up with the slot.
“You need any help with that?”
“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “I got it. Just give me oooooooone second,” she adds, her tongue darting to the side of her mouth as she concentrates.
“Yes!” She cheers, throwing her hands in the air as we hear the small click of the lock unlatching. “Seeeee.” She glances over her shoulder, a proud smile on her face. “I told you I had it.”
“Congrats,” I say, my hands finding their way into my jean pockets as she holds the door open for me as I follow her inside.
My intentions are pure, but the guilt lingers. The last thing I’d ever want to do is take advantage of her or the situation. Would she’ve invited me into her private space if she’d been sober? I know we’ve been making progress, but this much? I’m honestly not sure.
“Sorry about the mess,” she says, kicking off her heels, which land haphazardly around the room.
“Oh yeah, this place is a pig-sty,” I scoff sarcastically, taking in the small living area and kitchen. While there are a few dishes in the sink and some books sitting on her coffee table, the place looks pretty damn clean to me.
“Can I tempt you with a drink or… well, I don’t really know what people offer other people when they bring them back to their place. I don’t normally do this sort of thing,” she admits with a shrug.
“No, I’m fine. But how about I get you some water instead,” I suggest, heading toward the kitchen. I suspect she’s going to wake up tomorrow feeling like shit either way, but anything we can do to ease the suffering now will likely be in her best interest.
At least we have the day off tomorrow from games and practice, which means she’ll be free to sleep off her lemon drop hangover in peace.
Great for her. Terrible for me. It's pathetic, I know, but I’ve gotten way too used to seeing her every day, and despite hanging out with her all night, I pathetically find myself missing her already.
“You don’t think I can get my own glass?”
“After the whole lock-and-key incident?”
“Hey!” she says, her eyes narrowing. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that wasn’t my fault,” she argues as she clumsily folds her arms across her chest. “I’m actually starting to suspect my landlord came in and switched the lock while I was gone. It’s really the only logical explanation.”
“Oh yeah. Sure. Totally logical,” I chuckle, opening cabinet after cabinet in search of the glasses. It only takes me three tries before I finally find them. Jackpot! “Well, lucky for us, it looks like your landlord didn’t hide these while you were gone, too.”
“Ha-ha,” she says, trying to pretend like my joke isn’t funny, but I see that smile of hers. “While you take care of that, I’m going to hurry and go change.” She looks down at herself and groans. “This dress is waaaaay too tight.
God, her and that little black dress have been driving me crazy all night.
She’s not wrong. It is tight as it clings to her body perfectly and shows off every single one of her curves in the best way possible.
The hem stops mid-thigh, putting her incredible legs on full display, while the straight neckline and long, sheer sleeves keep her covered in a way that only makes you want more.
I’m really going to miss that dress.
I have about a hundred inappropriate responses queued up, but I swallow them all. “Sounds good,” I say instead, silently laughing to myself as she walks in a not-so-straight line down the hallway toward her bedroom.
Her door shuts with a soft click. I use this time to fill her glass before scanning the kitchen, trying to figure out where she might possibly keep her medicines. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to get her set up before I leave, since I’m sure eventually she’s going to need them.
I’m barely given a chance to look before I hear Hollis’s voice. It’s soft, but it sounds like she’s out calling to me.
I take a few hesitant steps toward her room before I hear it again, louder this time.
“Fletch!!!” she yells. Yep, she’s definitely calling me.
“Everything okay?” I ask, picking up my pace until I reach her door. It’s not even been two minutes. How much trouble could she have possibly gotten herself into? Then again, with how much she drank tonight? You never know.
“I need your help,” she calls through the closed door.
It feels weird to let myself into her bedroom. This is her sacred space, and I know sober Hollis would never willingly invite me, but when she calls my name again, I brave it. I place my hand on the knob and open it.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I see, and with that, her desperate cries for help make perfect sense.
“What the hell?”
Hollis is standing in front of her bed, her dress halfway up her body like it’s eating her alive.
Something has gone terribly wrong as the ruched fabric bunches up around her torso, just below her ribs while the sleeves somehow hold her arms hostage straight above her head as though she’s stuck in a straight jacket.
My gaze drops lower, because, well, I’m a man and I can’t quite help myself.
The only thing covering her from the waist down is a thin pair of black lace panties that leave very little to the imagination , her ass cheeks out on full display.
I force myself to look away. She’s in a vulnerable position and I refuse to be that guy.
“What happened?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, doing my best to give her at least some semblance of privacy and respect.
“What do you think happened?” she asks, helplessly wiggling. "I'm stuck!”
“Okay, so what can I do?” I ask, hoping to balance the fine line of being helpful without coming across like some overly eager creep.
“Get me out of it,” she huffs. “Duh!”
Letting out a breath, I move toward her. “Okay, so I’m going to—” I start.
“Fletch. Stop overthinking and just get this thing off me,” she directs, trying to come across as threatening, but given her state, it’s a little hard to take her seriously.
Nodding, I place my hands on the soft fabric and do my best to lift it up the rest of the way. Okay, so it’s not just her being a drunken klutz. This thing really is stuck.
Taking a step back, I reassess the situation until I finally find the culprit. The zipper is stuck. With a few strong and not-so-graceful tugs, it finally gives way. With a sigh of relief, I grab the hem of the dress and carefully slide it up over her sides and over her head.
Not exactly how I hoped my first time undressing her would go, but at least she’s now free.
“You did it!” Hollis celebrates as she turns to face me, completely bra-less as I’m given the perfect view of her round, perky breasts.
“Shit, Hollis,” I curse, closing my eyes as I turn, even if I’m pretty sure that image will forever be seared into my brain.
“Oh, come on. It’s nice like you haven’t seen a pair of tits before,” she scoffs.
She’s not wrong. I’ve seen more than my fair share, but hers… hers are by far my favorite. I just wish it had been under different circumstances. I highly doubt sober Hollis would be as cool with me getting a glimpse of what I just saw.
“So, you all good now?” I ask, turning to face the door.
“Yeah. I have it from here,” she says. A loud yawn follows, then a soft thump—one I can only assume is her falling onto the bed.
I dream of knowing what Hollis looks like, practically nude and sprawled out on the bed, but I refuse to let my mind go there or contemplate what’s happening behind me.
“In that case, I’m thinking it’s officially time you go to bed, and I head out,” I say, desperate to make my escape.
I know myself, and would never take advantage of her, but, if she remembers this in the morning, I’m going to guess she’s going to have some regrets. I don’t want to give her any reason to add more to that list.
“Fine,” she sighs dramatically. I hear the sheets wrestling as she seems to pull herself under the covers. “I’m decent now.”
I’m scared to look, but I do it anyway, slowly glancing over my shoulder. Relief surges through me when I find her with a large white comforter pulled up over her chest.
She still looks sexy as hell, but at least I no longer feel like I’m doing something naughty just by looking in her direction—well, mostly. My body is certainly reacting to the image, but at least not like before.
“Okay, well, you have a good night, okay?” I suggest, inwardly cringing at how pathetic I sound.
Did I really just say that? It sounds like something I’d say to my nana, but Hollis has thrown me off my game.
She smiles. “You too, Fletch. Thanks for saving me, and for all the drinks. It was actually pretty fun. I don’t think I’ve let loose like that in a really long time.”
“We’ll see how thankful you are tomorrow after you wake up. But for the record, I’m glad you had fun. I did too.”
“Good,” she smiles again, and it’s obvious her eyelids are growing heavy as she sinks further into her bed. “Drive safe, okay?”
“I will,” I promise, giving her one final look.
One might assume she’d look like a drunken disaster after everything tonight, but to me she looks practically angelic.
She closes her eyes, and I turn off the light.
“Goodnight, Hollis,” I say and shut the door behind me.