Chapter 3 #3
I held her gaze for a second too long, taking in the slow, dangerous kind of curiosity in her eyes.
Then I stepped back just enough to keep my head straight.
“You get bragging rights,” I said with a smirk.
She pouted slightly.
“That’s boring.”
“You’re competitive,” I countered.
She lifted her gaze to mine, opening her mouth to reply, but Caleb’s voice cut through the tension from across the bar, yelling for us to down another round of shots.
We walked back over to the table.
I looked down at my glass and set it aside, deciding I’d had enough.
Mars was mid-story when she blinked a little too long and swayed slightly on her stool.
I reached out without thinking, steadying her elbow.
She looked down at my hand, then up at me.
“I’m fine.”
“I know,” I replied calmly.
We stayed longer than any of us had planned, the room warming up around us as the music rolled on.
Eventually, Nia pushed her stool back and stretched.
“I’m going to head out.”
“Yeah,” Cal added, already on his feet.
“Me too.”
I huffed a quiet laugh under my breath.
They weren’t fooling anybody.
Mars blinked up at them, her eyes heavy as the adrenaline faded.
“You good?” Cal asked her.
She nodded too quickly.
“Yeah.”
Cal looked at me.
There was a pause, the kind of silent communication men don’t need words for.
You mind? his eyes asked.
“I’ve got her,” I said.
He didn’t hesitate or overthink it.
He just clapped my shoulder, a solid, trusting grip.
“Appreciate you.”
Nia kissed Mars dramatically on the cheek.
“Text me when you wake up.”
Mars waved her off lazily.
“I will not.”
They laughed and headed toward the door, already entirely locked into their own world.
Just like that, the night grew quiet.
I slid off my stool and offered Mars my hand.
She took it, but when she stood, that slight sway returned.
“I can walk,” she insisted, stepping outside into the cool night air.
She could, mostly, but she still leaned into me just enough that my hand found the small of her back.
The grip wasn't possessive, just supportive, keeping her steady in her heels.
She inhaled deeply, like she’d just discovered oxygen.
“Why does outside feel illegal after tequila?” she murmured.
I smiled, tightening my grip slightly.
Even tipsy and stubborn, she was still trying to carry herself like she didn’t need a soul.
Tonight, I didn’t mind being the one to make sure she got home safe.
“Has anyone ever told you how good you smell?” she asked suddenly.
I glanced down.
She was looking up at me with zero filter.
“Thank you,” I said carefully.
“No,” she continued, pointing a vague finger at my face.
“Like… offensively good.”
I laughed under my breath.
“You’re drunk.”
“A little,” she admitted, pinching her fingers together and giggling at her own gesture.
Then her head tipped lightly against my arm.
“Don’t let me embarrass myself.”
“I won’t.”
The ride was quiet.
She talked in small bursts, random thoughts, half-finished sentences, and unfiltered compliments she’d normally never voice sober.
By the time we pulled into River Oaks, her voice had trailed off completely, and she was fast asleep.
My house sat back from the street.
It was modern, with clean lines and high ceilings, the kind of place people assumed came with an ego, but it really just provided security and space.
I carried her inside carefully.
“Evening, Mr. Carter,” Laverne said from the hallway, assessing the situation without a hint of judgment.
She’d been with me long enough to know exactly when to bypass questions.
“She needs something comfortable to sleep in,” I said quietly, guiding us toward the guest suite.
“And some water, please.”
“Of course.”
Mars stirred slightly as I set her down on the edge of the mattress.
She blinked up at me, her eyes heavy and confused.
“Where…?”
“You’re safe,” I said gently, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.
“Just sleep.”
Laverne returned with a soft white T-shirt and cotton shorts.
I stepped out while she helped Mars change and settle under the covers.
When I walked back in, Mars was already drifting off.
I placed a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand, catching a faint, unintelligible murmur as she turned onto her side.
Instead of heading to my own room, I pulled the armchair from the corner closer to the bed and sat down.
It wasn’t because I didn’t trust myself.
It was because she was in my care now, and I wasn’t about to let her wake up in an unfamiliar house without knowing she’d been completely protected the entire night.
At some point, the darkness faded and I dozed off.
The next thing I knew, early morning sunlight was cutting sharp lines through the curtains.
I stood up, stretched quietly, and slipped out to get cleaned up.
A quick shower washed away the remnants of the tequila and the stiff ache of the armchair.
When I stepped back into her room to check on her, a towel wrapped low around my waist, a toothbrush in my mouth, and steam still clinging to my skin, I froze.
She was wide awake.
Sitting up against the pillows, her eyes tracked the water droplets rolling down my chest.
She was staring directly at me.