Chapter Two

Dylan

The thumping in my brain feels like a squirrel is having a rave. Peeling an eye open, panic sets in, and the unfamiliar bedroom has me on high alert. Don't tell me I gave away my V-card to some rando at the pub.

The bed moves, and I slowly slip from under the covers and out of the bed, peeking back over to see who was lying next to me. Please at least make him be pretty.

His back is to me, and he has a pillow thrown over his head. Pushing up to my feet, I tiptoe around the bed, spying my clothes in a pile next to my boots. At least I still have my underwear on and an oversized shirt that doesn't belong to me. Sneaking closer to the bed, I pinch the corner of the pillow over the guy's head between my fingers.

"No fucking way," I whisper, ripping the pillow away from Brad's head and bringing it back down to smack him in the face.

"What the actual fuck?" he says, sitting up.

The cover falls down and shows his chest, and—holy hotness—Brad has abs. Like, don't old men have dad bods?

He catches me checking him out and shakes his head. "Why did you hit me?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I woke up in your fucking bed, with no memory of how I got here or if we... if you took my V-card."

His mouth falls open. "Wow, kid, you have no memory because you drank your body weight in Jack. Then I didn't know where you lived, and didn't want to put my hands in your pants to get your phone or ID, so I brought you to my house, where you proceeded to vomit on my doorstep, and in my bathroom. When you finally stopped, you stripped out of your clothes, even though I tried to convince you to keep them on. And in no world would I have sex with a woman while she was under the influence. So, you can keep your V-card."

"Oh, well thanks. I guess I will go," I say, extremely embarrassed by blurting out that I'm a virgin.

I scurry across the room and pick up my pile of clothes that reek of alcohol and vomit—I guess it will have to do until I get home. My phone is on the floor as well, and when I pick it up, I see that I have four missed calls from Minnie, three from Vada, and about twenty text messages.

"I can give you a ride," Brad says, and when I spin around to face him, it's a huge mistake. He is standing there in boxers, looking like a damn snack, making my mouth water and my lady cave tingle. "If you stop staring at me long enough to get dressed, that is."

"That," I say, waving my hand in his direction, "is a lot for my brain to process. It should be illegal to look that good at your age."

Brad laughs at me—a full belly laugh. He might be the opposite of his bar's name. Brad is not happy most of the time, so his bar should be called Snappy. That is more Brad.

"I'm really not that old, Dylan."

My phone rings, saving me from having to tell him that he kinda is. Vada's name flashes up on the screen. Answering the FaceTime, I'm greeted by hers and Roman's faces filling the screen, and they sing happy birthday. I turn the volume down and let them finish.

"Where are you?" Roman asks, and Vada leans in closer to the screen like it will help her figure it out.

"Nowhere," I say defensively.

"Dylan got a booty call last night for her birthday," Roman teases.

"No, she didn't," Brad says, walking behind me. "She got drunk and passed out."

He walks away, leaving me to stare down at my best friend and her boyfriend. Vada's face looks like it might explode from questions.

"Brad is dropping me off at home. Meet me there?"

Vada nods like a damn bobble head, and I hang up the phone.

"Ready?" Brad asks, and I nod, grabbing my boots.

Brad has thrown on a pair of jeans and a shirt. The second we step out of his apartment building, the heat hits me like a tonne of bricks. It's going to be a scorcher of a day; I should have told Vada I would meet her at Roman's so we could use the pool. It's still a high probability.

Once I give Brad my address, the drive is quiet. He looks over at me a few times but doesn't say anything.

When he pulls up to the curb, I slip from the ute, leaning down to look at him. "Thanks for the ride—I will bring your shirt back next time I come to the bar. I'm eighteen now, so I'll be back to ask for a job."

Brad looks at me and shakes his head. I wait for the "no" about the job as I step back and shut the door. He winds the window down and leans across to look at me. "Happy birthday, Dylan."

He drives away before my brain can process that he didn't say no. I smile and head inside, where Minnie is waiting for me with Isabelle, his girlfriend, sitting on his lap. Winnie flits past, watering her plants, and throws a wink my way.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"None of your beeswax—I'm an adult now and can do what I want. Why are you not over at your house? I came here to avoid you."

Minnie moved into Isabelle's house recently, and I moved in with his mum, Winnie, so he could play house. I know he worries about me, but Isabelle and her sisters need him more than I do at the moment. So, he needs to cut me some slack.

"You were supposed to meet us for breakfast this morning," Minnie says.

Shit.

I forgot I told him I'd be at Isabelle's for food. Apparently, drunk Dylan needs to remember to set some alarms.

"Sorry, I forgot," I tell him honestly, not able to make eye contact with him. Minnie can read me like a damn book.

"Where were you?" he asks again.

Geez, he has the dad tone down pat already. I collapse on to the seat across from them—my head is killing me from one too many drinks last night. "I got a little drunk and crashed on a friend's couch." I tell him the partial truth. Minnie is already suspicious of Brad, and I know both Isabelle and Chad have tried to reassure him that he has nothing to worry about, so he definitely doesn't need to know I was at his place last night.

"Which friend?" Minnie asks suspiciously. Damn him.

"No one you know. I'm here now, and I'm starving." I try to change the topic and thankfully Isabelle helps, meeting my eyes with a knowing smile. "Let's go make pancakes. The girls are itching to give you your presents," she says as she stands. "Are you coming as well?" Isabelle asks Winnie.

"Wouldn't miss it. Dylan and I will be over shortly," Winnie says as she places Minnie's sausage dog, Winston, on the ground.

Minnie walks over to me and holds out his hand to help me stand. I fall into his embrace and take a moment to relax. It doesn't matter what is going on in my life, Minnie will always be the calm in the storm. He's always been the one to ground me and has been the one place that feels like home.

That is, until I found Happy's. I don't know what it is about Happy's, but the moment I first walked in there, I felt a peace I hadn't felt in a long time. It was like coming home, making me feel safe and secure. Brad may pretend he doesn't like having me around, but after this morning, I'm beginning to think that might just be an act.