I let out a groan when I saw her. Her head lolled back and forth, and she leaned against the mustached pervert I previously mistook for Justin. His hands were wrapped around her waist, and even from across the club I could tell his pervy eyes sized her up like she was a prime piece of steak.
Not again.
I offered Mark an annoyed “Thanks” before heading over to the bar to rescue her. The spot where Logan’s arm met mine still tingled from the contact.
“Let her go. I can take it from here,” I said to the mustached molester. He laughed, exposing his jagged yellow teeth like they were a prize. I shoved his hands off her and maneuvered Sunny away, shooting a poisonous look at the mustached creep and all of the other men at the bar waiting for an opportunity to pounce on her.
“Heeeya, Taylor!” Sunny slurred, her eyes struggling to focus on my face. “Where ya been hiding?” She stumbled against me, so drunk she couldn’t stand in one place. “Didja find Justin? Were you justin time to find Justin?” She laughed at her joke, shooting a string of spittle across her chin. “Can we go now? This band sucks. It sounds like shitty Halloween music. WooOOOOoooOOO.” She wiggled her fingers in front of her in an effort to look spooky and slipped out of my grasp, stumbling backward.
“Here, let me help you.” Logan walked toward us and slung Sunny’s arm over his shoulder.
“Heeeya. I know you. You’re that guy whoz brother died.” Sunny darted a finger toward Logan’s face and brushed it along the edge of his jaw. “I remember him 'cause he was really cute. Didn’t you try to kill yourself afterwards or something like that?”
Logan tightened his grip on Sunny and gave her a shake, his flinty eyes narrowing as he glared at her. “Shut up,” he spat, a hard edge entering his voice. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Sunny’s chin knocked against her chest when he shook her again, and she let out a small whimper.
“Stop it, you’re hurting her,” I shouted over the music as I tried to pry Sunny out of his angry hands. His eyes were wild and wide, and I was reminded of his short-tempered reputation, but when he met my gaze his face softened, and as quickly as the rage appeared, it was gone.
“I’m sorry.” He stepped away from Sunny and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what came over me. Did I hurt you, Sunny? Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”
Sunny let out a belch and shrugged. “Can we go home now?” She pouted her lower lip and attempted to walk forward, but I had to hold her so she wouldn’t stumble.
Logan took a tentative step in her direction, his hands poised to help again. I gave him a curt nod to let him know it was okay, but watched him closely out of the corner of my eye.
As we shuffled Sunny out of the smoke-filled club toward The Bee, he murmured encouraging words and kept his hand perched on the small of her back. I didn’t know how he remained so patient, especially given the way he’d previously snapped at her.
“Sunny, would you get in the damn car?” I was beyond irritated at that point. Every time we almost had her seated, she’d jump up and try to bop Logan on the nose, playing a drunken game of whack-a-mole with his face. “Sit down, for crap sake.”
She finally slumped into the seat, pouting back at me as I clicked her seatbelt into place. I slammed the door before she could make another escape attempt.
“Thanks for your help.”
“Don’t mention it.” Logan followed me to the driver’s side and closed the door once I was seated. “It was nice bumping into you. Maybe we can do it again sometime?” Before I could answer, he leaned into the window and brushed his lips against my cheek. “You should drive in the right lane—she’s going to puke any minute.”
He turned on his heel before I could react, my cheek still prickling from the kiss.
“Strange guy, huh?” I looked at Sunny for support, but she hadn’t noticed the interaction. She was too busy fighting with the seat recliner.
We were barely onto the highway when I heard gurgling noises coming from her throat and saw her fingers struggling to find the window button.
I managed to pull The Bee over just in time for Sunny to open the passenger door and puke the bazillion shots she’d consumed onto the pavement, the contents of her stomach splashing in a heavy stream against the highway.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she said when she finished, leaning against the frame of the car door to steady herself.
“You just were.” I couldn’t keep the hard edge of impatience from my voice. I was pissed beyond belief. I hated when she did this. Not just because I suspected it was all for attention, but because she was forcing me to drive on the highway knowing full and well that it terrified me. It was my mom’s fault—her complete lack of faith in me meant she rarely let me borrow her car, and on the rare occasions she did, I was forbidden from driving anywhere interesting. As a result I was a terrible, under-practiced driver.
“I’m sorry I ruined your big night.” She slid back into the passenger seat and let out an alcohol-fueled burp. I ignored her and rolled down my window to dispel the scent of vomit and cigarettes that clung to her hair. “Please don’t hate me. You can’t hate me. You’re my only real friend.”
“Please, you have plenty of friends. Don’t be so dramatic.” I concentrated on the black and white lines of the highway, attempting to keep the car steady while my hands clung desperately to the steering wheel. The horrific smell of puke filling the interior of the car made it nearly impossible to think.
“He won’t even look at me,” she whispered, turning her head toward the window so she could stare up at the half-circle of the moon like it held the answers. “He says I look just like her. But he hates her. Do you think that means he hates me too?”
She was talking about her father, and I sucked in a breath. Sunny rarely talked about her father.
“No, he doesn’t hate you, Sunny. He’s just still sad about your mom leaving.”