Drunk weirdo

I parked in front of the club, music blasting so loud I could feel the bass in my chest. I pulled out my phone and called her, but it just rang and rang. No answer.

I sighed. Of course.

Bracing myself for whatever fresh hell awaited me inside, I pushed open the car door and stepped out. The entrance was surprisingly empty—no security, no bouncers—just an ominous glow of neon lights welcoming me into what was probably a terrible decision.

Inside, the air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and desperation. Strippers twisted around poles, and a few scattered dancers swayed to the music, but the club was nowhere near as packed as I’d imagined. The second I stepped in, people stared. Some with amusement, others with disgust.

I ignored them. My eyes scanned the room, but there was no sign of her.

Then I spotted a door marked "VVIP SECTION" at the far end. No security there either. I pushed it open and peeked inside.

And there she was.

Sprawled in a red velvet chair, head tilted back, an empty bottle of what looked like straight vodka dangling from her fingers.

I sighed. Again. That had to be the millionth one tonight.

Walking over, I gave her a small shake. “Nessa.”

Nothing.

A harder shake. “Vanessa, wake up.”

Still nothing.

I pinched the bridge of my nose before tapping her cheek lightly. Finally, her eyes flickered open, bleary and unfocused. It took her a second to process who was in front of her. Then, just as quickly, her expression twisted in disgust.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I blinked. Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

"Did you lose your memory in the last ten minutes? You called me, Nessa. And now I’m here. So get up. Let’s go."

She squinted at me, wobbling as she sat up straighter. "I called you?" She let out a short, breathy laugh. "Now you’re just a goddamn liar, aren’t you? You… weirdoooo*."

I exhaled sharply. Patience, Aaron. Just get her home and be done with it.

"Are you gonna leave or what?"

Rolling her eyes, she stood up—only to immediately stumble. I caught her by the waist before she face-planted onto the floor.

She shoved my hands off. "Ew, get your hands off me!"

"I just saved you from cracking your skull open, Vanessa." My grip tightened briefly before I let go, jaw clenching. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

For a split second—barely even a breath—something flickered across her face. A sadness I wasn’t used to seeing in her. It was gone just as fast, replaced by her usual blank, unreadable expression.

I didn’t give her time to argue anymore. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the club, ignoring the stares and murmurs around us. Once we stepped outside, the fresh air hit me, clearing away the suffocating mix of alcohol and sweat.

She wobbled again, eyes fluttering shut. I tapped her arm. “Nessa. You’re falling asleep standing up.”

Nothing.

Fantastic.

I sighed—again—then carefully guided her to the backseat of the car. She immediately slumped against it, completely dead to the world.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, I pulled up the GPS. Finding the Stevens’ mansion didn’t take effort. Everyone knew where it was. The biggest, flashiest house in town. Impossible to miss.

The drive was silent except for her occasional murmuring in her sleep. If someone had told me two weeks ago that Nessa Stevens would be passed out in the backseat of a car I was driving, I’d have laughed in their face.

Pulling up to the estate, I honked the horn. Once. Twice. A full minute passed, and the gates still didn’t open.

Frowning, I stepped out and knocked on the iron gates. No answer. Just as I was about to knock again, a sleepy voice mumbled from inside the car.

"Remote… purse…"

I turned back and found her groggily lifting her handbag. Reaching in, I pulled out a sleek black remote—among a ridiculous amount of cash—and pressed the "open" button.

The gates whirred, slowly sliding open.

Jesus. I knew they were rich, but this was next-level.

Driving inside, I nearly did a double take. I’d only ever seen the house from the outside, but standing in the driveway now? It looked like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Towering walls, a wraparound balcony, a literal fountain in the front yard. Ten luxury cars lined the side of the house, and a massive pool stretched out to the right, complete with a cabana-style bar.

I parked and stepped out, closing the gates with the remote. When I opened the backseat door, she was still dead asleep.

Tapping her leg a couple of times, I sighed. “Nessa. We’re here.”

Her eyes barely cracked open. She yawned, stretching her arms out like a lazy cat. "Mmm. Sleepy."

"Yeah, no shit. Can you walk, or are you planning to pass out on the driveway?"

Another yawn. "Dad’s out of state. Maids are off. Gave security a break. Snitches." She waved a hand vaguely. "If they found out I went clubbing, Dad would hear."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re a grown-ass adult. You shouldn’t be getting this wasted, Vanessa.”

She cracked an eye open. "It’s Nessa. To YOU." Then, smirking, she added, "And I do whatever the fuck I want."

I scoffed. “Yeah, except for being responsible, I guess.”

She tried to walk away but immediately wobbled again. Muttering under my breath, I stepped forward and grabbed her arm before she face-planted. “God, you’re a mess.”

Guiding her to the front door, she lazily pulled a card from her purse and tapped it against the handle. The door unlocked with a soft beep.

Stepping inside, I swore under my breath.

I thought the outside was fancy? The inside was something out of a royal palace. White walls, deep red furniture, golden accents everywhere. A grand double staircase wrapped around the far end of the foyer.

I dropped her onto the nearest couch, ready to get the hell out of there.

"My heels. Take them off."

I turned. "Excuse me?"

She lazily waved a hand. "My feet hurt. Take them off."

I scoffed. "What am I? Your maid?"

Still, against every logical thought in my brain, I crouched down and unstrapped one heel, tossing it aside. I reached for the second—then stopped.

She was watching me.

Not with disgust. Not with her usual condescension.

Just… watching.

My fingers hesitated against the buckle. “What?”

Nessa smirked, head tilting slightly. "Mmm. You look so good on your knees."

I froze.

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