Chapter 16 Noel
Noel
“There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.” - Mark Twain
Pick did his job for the most part. With me constantly talking to her all night, I must’ve been keeping away the prowlers.
Because as soon as I immersed myself in work, serving drinks, the men flooded in, trying to hit on her.
Pick didn’t exactly field the losers away, but he didn’t really have to either since she brushed them off all on her own. God bless her.
I told myself that didn’t mean anything. So what, she had welcomed my attention and practically asked me how I liked to take my women, but she’d turned others away. That didn’t mean…except maybe it did. Even drunk, she preferred me over everyone else.
When she asked Pick where the restroom was and disappeared into the back, every fiber of my being wanted to follow her. But my damn, annoying coworker grabbed my arm.
“You told me not to let you go, man.”
I jerked my arm out of his grip and sent him a dirty look but stayed behind the bar like a good boy. But when she didn’t return within five minutes, I was ready to chew my own arm off.
“What if someone caught her back there and is harassing her?” I growled to Pick, needing to check on her safety, which surprised the shit out of me.
Outside of my brothers and sister, and okay, maybe my teammates on the field, oh, and possibly my coworkers, I’d never felt protective of anyone before. Not over a girl I wanted, anyway.
“I’ll check on her,” Pick said, lifting his eyebrows in that fatherly way, telling me to back off.
I glowered at him even as I practically shoved him toward the hallway. “Well, get to it, then.”
He left and returned almost immediately. “She’s fine,” was his only answer.
I opened my mouth to demand details. She was fine how? Fine with some other guy? Fine, as in not puking her guts out? Fine, as in passed out peacefully and untouched in the back office? I needed to know more. Everything.
But last call came, and work stole my attention for the next half hour. I kept looking for her, but I never saw her again. She must’ve slipped out between people when I wasn’t looking. Which aggravated me to no end. I couldn’t even get one final glimpse of her in that unforgettable backless number.
Pick found a pair of sloshing drunk girls and offered to help them home, leaving me behind to clean up behind the bar. More people filtered out, and the waitresses got busy sweeping and straightening the main area.
I was wiping down the bar when I saw someone from the corner of my eye stumbling out of the hall that led to the bathrooms. Since we had closed ten minutes ago and the place was empty of customers, I glanced over to tell whoever that they needed to clear out.
But Aspen Kavanagh was too busy digging into her purse and pulling out a set of keys to notice me.
My mouth fell open. She hadn’t left yet. I soaked in my last glimpse, so occupied with my perusal that it took me a second to realize exactly what she was doing.
Christ, she wasn’t seriously going to drive in her condition, was she?
Sorting through the ring full of metal until she found the key she sought, she tripped on her fuck-me heels, bumped into the side of a table, and then straightened herself before weaving a crooked path toward the door.
Oh, hell, no. “Hey!” I called. “Dr. Kavanagh.”
She didn’t hear me, or just plain ignored me.
As she pushed her way outside, I cursed. “Vick.” I turned toward a waitress who was pulling out bills and counting them at the cash register. “You guys okay here?”
She didn’t even pause her count, but nodded and waved me on. “Yeah. You can go ahead and go.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t wait around for her to change her mind. Setting a hand on the counter, I leaped over it and dashed toward the door.
A nip in the wind bit through my shirt as soon as I exited, reminding me I’d left my jacket inside. But I didn’t care; I’d get it later.
Glancing around for my professor and spotting her instantly, I cupped my hand around my mouth. “Aspen!”
She faltered and whirled around, dropping her keys in the middle of the street.
A car had just turned down the block, but she didn’t seem to notice its approach as she bent over to retrieve her key chain, startling me with a view of just how nice her ass looked in that short little dress.
Panic leapt into my veins as I worried the car was about to turn her into a pancake.
Popping off the curb, I raced forward, grasped her elbow and manually helped her back upright just as she got ahold of the keys. The oncoming car slowed when it caught us in its headlights, but I hurried her out of its path anyway.
She brushed my hand away as soon as we made it to the parking lot and the car sped up, driving past.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
I set my hands on my hips and loomed over her. “I’m trying to find out what the fuck you think you’re doing.”
She attempted to stand erect, tightening up her shoulders, but ended up stumbling a step to the left. “I...” She paused to hiccup. Damn, why did I have to think drunk chicks hiccupping was so adorable? “I’m going home. The bar closed. My...my date stood me up.”
A wrinkle between her eyebrows formed when she confessed that. She looked confused and hurt.
I sighed. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “You weren’t seriously going to drive home, though, were you? By yourself?”
She turned to look at her car as if considering her answer. Then she weaved sloppily back around. “Well, it certainly won’t fly me home.”
“Dear God.” I rubbed my forehead. “How can you have a PhD at twenty-three and be this naive?”
With a gasp, she pressed the flat of her palm against her chest. “How am I being naive?”
“How do you think? You can’t just drive home drunk. What if you got into an accident? What if you were pulled over? You’d go to jail and lose your job. Then you’d never be able to give some poor, dumb schmuck like me another D in your life.”
“You have a point,” she admitted. Then she turned her green eyes my way and looked so lost I wanted to sweep her up and soothe all her troubles away. “But how’m I supposed to get home?” Her shoulders drooped. “I jus’ wanna go home.”
I sighed. Damn it. If only there hadn’t been a catch in her miserable, despondent voice.
“I’ll call you a cab,” I offered, already digging into my pocket. After working at the bar for as many months as I had, I had my favorite cab service listed on speed dial.
“But I can’t leave my car here.” She sounded aghast.
I paused, my thumb hovering over the dial button. “It’s okay. People do it all the time. This is a fairly safe parking lot. You can come back and pick it up in the morning, no problem.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, she eyed her dark sedan with worry.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath and pocketed the phone. “Okay, fine.” Jesus, I couldn’t believe I was actually going to offer this. “Give me your keys, and I’ll drive you home.”
She whirled to me with hope on her face, even as she said, “But what about your car? How will you get home?”
Shaking my head, I tried not to be charmed over the fact she was still cognizant enough to think about me. “I’ll just stay the night with you.”
“What?” She stumbled sideways as her mouth fell open.
I snickered. “Kidding. I’ll call a cab from your place and have them bring me back here for my ride.”
Okay, so I was too embarrassed to tell her I didn’t have a set of wheels. Since I only lived eight blocks away, I’d planned on walking home. But I could always call a cab from her place if I had to.
She blinked, and the move made her look like an owl.
Cutest damn owl I’d ever seen. Glancing away because she still held me under her homing spell with her prettied-up face and sexy clothes, I blew out a breath, half-hoping she’d decline and let me call her a cab, and half-hoping I could spend another few minutes in her company while she was like this.
“You would do that for me?” The way she slurred her words sounded foreign coming from her perfect mouth because her speech was always so succinct in class. It was as if she was a completely different person. A person I was allowed to desire.
“Why would you do that for me?” She stared at me, all lost and confused again. “You hate me.”
“I don’t—” When I shook my head, I had to shove my hair out of my eyes. “I don’t hate you,” I said, softer this time. Far, far from it.
Her lips parted and I wanted to bite them—especially the fuller, lower one—then suck it into my mouth and lick the sting away.
Silently, she held out her keys to me. A surge of awareness sparked through my system.
I shouldn’t do this. It was dangerous. Tempting. She still had one side of her hair pulled up, though after the past few hours in the heat of the bar and in between the press of so many people, it had started to sag in places. Still...it looked tempting, as if someone had had his hands in it.
If only they could be my hands.
Giving in to her draw, I took the keys and sucked in a breath when her fingers brushed mine. God, this was going to be bad. I could already tell.