005

Chapter 5

Cole 

Aria laughed, loud and slurred.  

“And who are you to ask me that, Cole? Tell me—who are you to me to be asking me that?”

I sighed. “Are you at Murphy’s?”

“I hate you so much, Cole.” A pause, then a hiccup. “I wish you would just leave me alone. Go to hell.”

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair, frustration and worry tangling together in my chest.

I grabbed my car keys off the counter. “Don’t make me come looking for you, Aria.”

She blew a raspberry into the phone in response, followed by the unmistakable sound of her taking another drink, then a loud, unbothered belch.

I closed my eyes for a second, counting to five before I lost my patience completely.

Then a voice cut in on her end—male, way too close to the phone.  

“Hey, pretty.”

My eyes went wide, every ounce of frustration snapping instantly into something sharper.

“Aria. Do not answer anyone.” My voice came out harder than I meant it to. “I’m on my way.”

She hung up without another word.

I didn’t waste time being annoyed about it. I headed straight for the garage, got in the car, and pulled out fast enough that the tires actually protested against the pavement.

I already had a good guess where she was. There was only one bar she and Sage ever went to whenever Sage was in town—Murphy’s, some dimly lit place a few blocks from the apartment that Sage swore made the best cocktails in the city. If Aria had wanted to drink herself into oblivion tonight, that was exactly where she’d have gone.

The drive there took eleven minutes. It felt like forty.

I found parking half a block down and jogged the rest of the way, pushing through the door into the dim, noisy warmth of Murphy’s. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, scanning past the crowd at the bar and the booths along the wall, before I spotted her.

Aria was perched on a stool near the far end of the bar, laughing at something with her head tipped back, an empty glass in one hand and a half-full one within reach. And standing entirely too close to her, one hand braced on the back of her stool like he already owned the space around her, was some guy in a backwards cap who looked like he’d had one too many himself.

“So, pretty,” I heard him say again, leaning in. “You never told me your name.”

“It’s none of your business,” I said, stepping up before she could answer.

Both of them turned. The guy’s face soured immediately.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Her ride home.” I didn’t bother looking at him a second longer than necessary. “Aria.”

She blinked up at me, swaying slightly on the stool, a slow, unfocused smile spreading across her face. “Cole.” She said my name like it was funny. “You actually came.”

“Of course I came. You called me sounding like you were trying to drink the whole bar dry.”

“I was succeeding too,” she said proudly, raising her glass in a toast to absolutely no one.

The guy in the cap crossed his arms, clearly not planning on backing off easily. “She was fine before you showed up.”

“She’s not fine.” I kept my voice level, even as my patience thinned to nothing. “She’s drunk and alone, and you were standing a lot closer than you needed to be.”

“Relax, man, I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind leaving.”

Something in my tone must have landed right, because he held his hands up, muttered something under his breath, and finally backed off toward the other end of the bar.

I turned my attention back to Aria, who was watching the whole exchange with far too much amusement for someone who’d nearly needed rescuing.

“If it isn’t the annoying Cole,” she said, batting her eyelashes at me dramatically.

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

“No.” She shook her head slowly and robotically, like the motion took real effort.

“Damn it,” I groaned, rubbing my face. “And why not? It’s late!”

“One more drink. Just one. Then I’ll go, I promise.”

“Aria.”

“One drink, Cole.” She patted the stool beside her. “You can even join me. God knows you look like you need to loosen up.”

I should have said no. I should have picked her up, thrown her over my shoulder if I had to, and driven her straight home.

Instead, I looked at her—flushed, stubborn, and utterly oblivious to how much trouble she’d almost stumbled into—and felt a headache blooming behind my eyes. Dealing with Aria completely sober was exhausting on a good day. Dealing with her four cocktails deep while she actively fought me was a losing battle.

“Fine,” I muttered, pulling out the stool next to her and flagging down the bartender. “One. Then we’re out.”

I ordered a double on the rocks, intending to down it just to take the edge off. But one drink turned into two while she kept picking at my nerves, and two turned into three. Before I knew it, the line between holding my liquor and completely losing control had dissolved entirely.

“Alright, that’s it,” I muttered, my head spinning as I slapped a wad of cash onto the sticky counter. “We’re done. We need to leave.”

Aria tried to slide off her barstool, but her knees completely gave out. She hit the floor with a dull thud, curling into a giggling heap on the carpet.

“I live here now,” she slurred, resting her cheek against the floorboards.

“No, you don’t,” I grunted, dragging my hand down my face. I stumbled slightly as I leaned down, hooking my hands under her arms to haul her upright.

My head was pounding, the alcohol hitting me like a freight train the second I stood up. There was no way in hell I could drive. I hauled her heavy, limp weight out the front doors of Murphy’s, completely abandoning my car parked down the street to deal with tomorrow.

Stepping out into the cold night air, I stuck my hand out, flagging down the first yellow taxi that rolled past. I shoved Aria into the backseat, tumbled in after her, and mumbled my address at the driver before sinking against the headrest with an exhausted groan.

The ride was a blur. When the cab finally jerked to a stop in front of my building, I paid the driver, dragged Aria out, and practically carried her through the lobby.

Inside the elevator, my vision swam. I kept pressing the wrong floor buttons with my thumb, the soft chimes echoing loudly in my ears until I finally managed to hit the right one.

We stumbled down the hallway, and after three failed attempts to get the damn code right, I jabbed the last number, and the door finally clicked open.

I hauled her inside, stumbled toward the living room, and dropped her onto the couch. She collapsed onto the cushions like a ragdoll.

“Never again,” I breathed out heavily, collapsing onto the cushion right next to her. I hated being drunk. I hated losing control, and more than anything, I hated that I’d spent my entire evening babysitting Sage’s infuriating best friend. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the sofa, just trying to catch my breath and let the room stop spinning.

Suddenly, the cushion shifted.

Before I could process what was happening, Aria scrambled over, throwing her leg across my lap and sitting directly on top of me.

My eyes snapped open, my entire body locking up instantly. “What the hell are you doing?” I choked out, grabbing her hips to push her back. “Get off me.”

“Sshh,” she whispered. She leaned in, placing a single, shaky finger directly over my lips. “I know you want this.”

A surge of pure irritation and alarm shot through my gut. “What are you even talking about? You’r

e out of your mind—”

Before I could finish the sentence, she leaned down and pressed her lips straight against mine.