Kyle held up his hands. “You’re right, man. It’s cool, God. Just let me get some towels.”
My jaw flexed, my eyes following him as he scrambled to the back, returning with towels. I held out a hand for one, but he walked right past me and to the car, wiping off the seat before laying a fresh towel under her. He tossed another one to Cam. “Will you clean her up, please?”
Cam didn’t answer, but she did as he asked, for Tracey, not for Kyle. I knew by the hairy eyeball she shot at him that she was having none of his bullshit.
I pulled off my shirt and wiped my chest and arm off with it, and when I looked back at Cam, she was paused, towel in hand, looking at me like a popsicle on a summer day. I smirked and made my way over to help her get Tracey in the front seat as Kyle fussed around his SUV, adjusting the seats and laying towels, producing a plastic bag out of thin air for Tracey. Then Cam and I climbed into the third row, maneuvering around snoring Casey.
Kyle rolled the windows down. “You guys smell like shit.”
“That’s actually the only bodily fluid that we don’t smell like,” Cam shot as she buckled her seatbelt.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I threw up,” Tracey said.
“Yeah, I heard.” Kyle’s voice was flat as he rolled down the windows.
“The girls had a little too much to drink.” I settled back into the seat, and Cam and I shared a look.
Kyle shook his head with a frustrated sigh. “I can see that. Why didn’t you take better care of them?”
My eyes narrowed, and I glared at him in the rearview. “Because they’re fucking grown women, and I’m not a babysitter.”
Cam scowled. “And anyway, we did take care of them.”
Kyle scoffed. “No, you lost one and the other one’s about to puke in my brand new Cadillac.”
“Hey, man,” I shot. “Watch your shit, okay? I’m the one who just carried one of them out of a football stadium, not you.”
“Whatever,” Kyle said, pouting. “We’re all tired and pissed off, okay?”
Cam’s scowl disappeared as she leaned into me. “No, you’re pissed on.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And you’re puked on.”
“What a pair,” she said, smiling up at me.
And all I could do was kiss her.
CLARK KENT NEVER WINS
Cam
KYLE WAS RIGHT, WE REALLY did smell terrible.
We made it across Jersey and back into Manhattan with Tracey only vomiting once more. Kyle made a show of it, and I really, really hoped there was some errant corn under the seat that could cook up and get nice and smelly just for him.
Tyler sat next to me, shirtless and beautiful, hair ruffled by the wind from the open windows. He held my hand in his lap, playing with my fingers as we sang along to Kyle’s music, too loud and too silly. He’d turned up the radio almost immediately once we got on the road — he was sulking pretty hard. Not only were his twins ruined for the night, but they’d stunk up his car. The asshole hadn’t even thanked us, not that we did any of it to help him. Because fuck him.
When we made it to the girls’ apartment, the guys helped them inside, Tyler carrying Casey — he’d already been marked, he said — and Kyle was the first one back in the car.
He turned, leaning on the arm rest to look back at me, his intentions hidden, though his cool, blue eyes glinted like metal. “What’s with you and Tyler?”
I shrugged and played dumb. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He smirked. “Yeah, you do. Did you sleep with him?”
My eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Kyle.”
He put up his hands. “Hey, I don’t mean it like that. I’m just worried about him, you know? Like, I don’t know what’s gotten into him, if he’s having a breakdown or something, because you’re not his type. You’re the last person he would date, under normal circumstances. So I’m just trying to figure out if he’s okay, that’s all.”
My cheeks flushed from the shame of his words. “Aren’t you a hero.”
“I can be. I mean, I get what he sees in you, you know? You’re a good girl, and you’re all about him. It’s sweet. Doesn’t help that you’re pretty. You look good in a Giants jersey.” He had on sunglasses, but I could feel his eyes on me.
“Thanks,” I muttered, uncertain what else to say.
Tyler opened the door and climbed into the middle row, putting the seat down to let me up. I settled in next to him, hoping we were going home.
Kyle turned around and started the car. “The guys are meeting up at a bar, which was where I was supposed to take the twins. You guys still want to come?”
“I think we’re ready to get home and shower the day off,” Tyler said, and I gave him a look that I hoped told him how much I would thank him for that later.
He shrugged and gave us a sour, one-word answer: “Whatever.”
It wasn’t long before we were finally home — I even found it in my heart to thank Kyle for the tickets and the ride, even though I felt like keying his car just for being a douchelord. And the second he drove away, I felt a thousand times better.
We passed Mrs. Frank and Kafka in the entry, checking her mail. She beamed at us when she saw we were holding hands, winking at me after she took a second to note Tyler’s shirtlessness.
I sighed as we walked up the stairs.
“I feel the same way,” Tyler said.