"Good," I say, but it still doesn't feel right. It's not like I haven't had my share of drunk-sex with Jensen. Hell, we almost never had sober sex. But just thinking about what Grant said about there being a gray line of consent, especially when alcohol is involved, makes me look back at it differently, wondering if I would have had sex with him all of those times if we, or even I, were sober. The sourness in my stomach intensifies when the voice in my head answers, probably not.
And that's just taking sex into account, forget about kissing. I don't think I have enough fingers to count the number of drunk make-out sessions I had at parties or in the dark corners of bars.
"Maybe he's too good for me," I say with a sigh. "I'm more demon than saint."
"I prefer angry pixie," Ashton giggles. "Besides, what guy doesn't like a girl who bites a little."
"Are you still drunk?" I ask, laughing at her.
"Probably."
"Want me to bring you back something to eat?"
"No thanks. I have stuff. I think I'll go back to sleep until my class this afternoon."
Before I leave, I say to her, "We should make a promise to watch out for each other."
Ashton folds the blanket back from her face. "What do you mean?"
"When we go to parties, or anywhere, really ... that we make sure the other is safe or doesn't drink too much. I wouldn't want someone hurting you, or you know, you doing something you didn't want to because you're high or drunk."
Ashton smiles softly. "You'd do that? Promise to protect me?"
"Of course. And I never break my promises, ever."
She smiles bigger, her eyes shimmering. "I promise to protect you too."
"I'd totally hug you right now, but you stink," I say, making her laugh.
When I shut the door, I have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat. But it doesn't keep the tear from escaping. I know I'm not being emotional just because I recognize how much I care for Ashton. It's also guilt for not being able to protect Allie from Vic. And sadness that we need protecting at all.
I have two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. American government in the morning and French right before dinner. This means, I'm not scheduled at the country club on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I've never been so disappointed about not being able to work.
When I do return on Wednesday, Ashton and I are assigned the bev cart again. I can't stop smiling. I'm not even trying to fight it.
Kaely is in the locker room when we walk in.
"Where were you Monday?" I ask, realizing she wasn't at Stefan's even though she was so excited to go when I last saw her.
"Had to help my mom with something," she says with a huff. But her signature sweet smile is quick to return. "But I'll see you on Friday for--"
"Work," Ashton interjects. "Yeah, we know. We're all working at The Deck together." Ashton flashes her a tight smile with enlarged eyes.
"Oh, right," Kealy says, her cheeks pink. "I forgot that you knew that."
They're acting weird.
"What was that about?" I ask Ashton after Kaely leaves us to go to The Grille.
"Nothing," Ashton says dismissively. She's lying. She knows that I know she's lying. But it doesn't matter right now because Grant just came out the door carrying bags of ice. Rhett too, but I don't care about him.
Grant smiles when he sees me, or us, but I'm convincing myself the smile is just for me. I am so ridiculous right now.
"I didn't know you gave swimming lessons," Ashton says, making my eyes widen and heat creep up my cheeks.
"What?" Grant asks, glancing between us.
"Oh, I must have heard wrong," she replies with a knowing smile. Grant looks to me and I can only shrug awkwardly. I'm going to push her off the moving golf cart.