Reaching for my shirt, I slipped it over her head. “You’re spending the night with me.”
“No,” she tried to fight. “It’s too much. I’m leaving next week, and I just… I had too much to drink is all.”
“Fuck that. You’re sleeping
at my place.” I pulled my jeans up. “No strings, fine. But you’re not sleeping alone tonight.”
She crossed her arms over her waist, and I reached for the seatbelt, pulling it across her shoulder and lap, and fastening it before climbing back to the front seat. We didn’t speak the whole drive, but I glanced in the rearview mirror a few times. She continued gazing out the window, and I couldn’t think of anything to say to make her feel better.
Finally, I had us in my parking garage. Helping her out, I gathered her shirt, tank, and bra all wadded into a roll, thanks to the way I’d removed them. She picked up her shoes and purse, still wearing my shirt over her jeans. Without her shoes, she seemed so small. Fragile.
“Come on,” I said quietly, leading her to my door.
Inside, I dropped everything on the couch. I caught her swaying a few times, and took her hand. “Take your jeans off and just sleep in that shirt.”
She nodded and bent down to remove her pants. I left her to go brush my teeth and find a shirt for me to sleep in. Moments later, we were in bed.
The idea of sex or making out was definitely off the table at this point, and all I knew to do was pull her to me. She didn’t fight it, putting her cheek on my chest. I tried to think of something comforting to say, lying in the dark, smoothing her hair off her face, but only one thought was circling in my mind. It was stupid, and I said it anyway, softly, like a mantra. “Bee stings… needles… rope burns…”
“What?” Her voice was quiet, weary.
“When Stuart and I were kids we played this game. If one of us got hurt, we’d try and name things that hurt worse. It’s stupid brother shit.”
Tears were in her cracked whisper. “Nothing hurt like losing Blake.”
My arms tightened around her, and I kissed the top of her head. “I know.” My hand continued moving up and down her back. “Nothing kicks the shit out of you like love.”
After that, I only held her. She didn’t shake or jerk anymore with sobs, but I could tell she was still crying. I didn’t know how much time passed before she stopped. I was struggling with sleep myself when she spoke again.
“This doesn’t change anything.” Her voice sounded like sleep, and my arms were still around her skinny body. I remembered the pizza I was supposed to buy her.
“Right,” I said. “No strings. Just friends.”
Then I thought of my kid sister Amy dealing with all Kenny had faced and being alone in some guy’s bed. I would hope he wouldn’t be a dickhead.
“You’re safe here,” I added. “Just sleep now.”
In less than a minute, we were both out.
* * *
My eyes opened, and I was alone. Sitting up, I whipped the sheets back and grabbed my jeans off the chair before making my way down the hall to the kitchen. Where was she? Had she left?
“Kenny?”
“In the kitchen,” she answered, and I saw her as I rounded the corner. She sat on the counter sipping coffee from a mug, looking even younger with no makeup and wearing my too-big shirt over her jeans. “I’m keeping this, by the way. It smells good—like you.”
I shrugged, going over to lean beside her. “Sure.”
She lowered her leg and hopped down, crossing the space to put her mug in the sink. I only watched her, wondering what to say. I didn’t want to apologize—I wasn’t sorry for what happened between us—but I wanted to know she was okay.
“I called a cab,” she said. “It should be here any minute.”
“Why did you do that? I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s better this way.” She returned to where I stood, pushing me back and leaning against my chest. Damn she was short without her stilts. I put my arms around her.
“You’re good in bed.” She said it like she was reading a weather report.