“That’s incredible.”
“Whoa, there soldier.” She lobs a hand within an inch of my face without looking up from her phone. “Hate to burst your bubble, but she’s definitely dying now.”
My expression sinks. And she’s…laughing again?
“Oh my god. Now I really have to call her. She lives for death humor.” One hand swipes under her eyes, her shoulders still bouncing through her fading amusement. The laugh sounds natural, but I know it must be rooted in grief, only made light of through the haze of alcohol combined with the events of this evening she’s trying to pretend didn’t happen.
The GPS directs me off the main road and into a neighborhood. Hannah holds up a finger to silence me—I wasn’t making a sound, but whatever. She taps around her screen for a second, then holds the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” she asks, completely unawareshe’sthe one who made the call.
I chuckle and she backhands my arm.
“Mom, hi!” Swear to God, she’s gotten tipsier since making this call.
She nods along to whatever her mom says, humming every few seconds until I finally pull into her driveway. Turning off the car, I lean back in the seat, watching her for whatever comes next.
“Date ended hours ago, Mom. Rowan drove me home.” A pause, my brows arched in question. “Not Daniel, Rowwwwan.” Her eyes drift shut, half delirious with booze and exhaustion. “Daniel was a big bad pervy dude, but Rowan…” She pats my cheek, attempting a wink that looks more like a skittish triple blink. “Rowan saved me. My knight in shining Ducati.” I dip my chin and fidget with my ball cap to hide my ridiculously smug grin. It’s not the time or place for that.
“No.Ducati, Mom. Knight in shiningDucati. You know what, never mind.” Long pause. “I’m not drunk, I’m just a little tipsy.” She gives me a finger gun. “He bought me alcohols, but it’s okay. It’s okay because I drank water, too.” A hand curls around her mouth like she might whisper next. But she doesn’t. Maybe she thinks she’s whispering? “Mom, he made me drink so much water.”
She props her feet on the dash. “Anyway, Rowan brought me home and—” She shakes her head, face distorting in disgust. “No, I don’twanna talk about Daniel. That’s not why I called. I called because I made a death joke and I knew you’d wanna hear it.” Another proud chuckle. “Huh?”
Then she holds the phone out tome. “My mom wants to talk to you.”
Puppy-dog eyes and a cutesy grimace pin me to the spot. I take the phone because what the hell else am I supposed to do?
“Hello?”
“You’re Rowan?” Her mom’s voice is curt.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tell me what happened with Daniel because obviously my daughter is masking.”
I toss my hat on the dash and rake a hand through my hair. “I think that’s something you should hear from her. But I assure you she’s safe and he won’t bother her again.”
Silence. I look over at Hannah. Legs now curled beneath her, she faces me, head resting against the seat.
“Thank you for protecting my little girl.”
“You’re welcome,” I answer, gaze locked on her daughter across the center console watching me with the softest eyes.
“Is she drunk?”
I grin. “No, ma’am. Just a little tipsy.”
Hannah scrunches her nose, nods her head.
“I assure you, Ms. James?—”
“Lydia, please,” she interjects.
“Lydia, I’m here to make sure Hannah gets home safely. I promise.” She goes quiet again. “Is there something you’d like me to say or do to help ease your mind right now?”
“You have your cell phone, Rowan?”
“Yes, ma’am.”