head, and she was fumbling with something in her hand. I jogged toward her, causing her to startle slightly.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing out here? It’s two in the morning and freezing.”
“Smoking,” she answered, a white cloud coming out of her mouth as she spoke.
“You don’t smoke.”
“I know. I’ve been stressed out. Carter brought me this when he stopped by earlier.” She held up something that definitely wasn’t a cigarette.
“You’re not smoking. You’re vaping,” I said with a soft laugh. “You realize that has no smell, so you can just do it inside, right?” Her silence told me that she absolutely had not realized that. “What’s even in that, anyway?”
“What do you mean?” She brought it closer to her face, holding it up in the dim ray of light that shone from our building.
“You can’t tell what it is by looking at it,” I told her, laughing. “Carter didn’t say?”
She shrugged. “I figured they were all the same. I don’t smoke, remember?”
I nodded toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go inside. We can text Carter and ask if you’re high right now.” She let me help her up, and I pulled the door open for her. Warmth spread through my bones immediately upon entering. “I can’t believe you were out there in the middle of the night like that.”
Not only was it cold, but I didn’t love the idea of Sophia alone in the dark. I tried not to think about what could’ve happened to her.
“I can’t believe you still ride that death trap” was her reply.
It wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned the old motorcycle and its lack of safety features. But it was the first time I’d realized she was probably as concerned with my well-being as I was with hers.
S O P H I A
Carter had texted back pretty quickly that I wasn’t smoking marijuana. Apparently it was some sort of CBD oil that was supposed to give you the calming effect without the high and paranoia that was often associated with the drug. I think it had its desired effect. I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks. Or maybe I was just tired.
I shrugged off my coat and hung it on the hook by the door, wondering how long it would take me to crawl to my bed. “I think I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”
“Me too,” Drew said. “After I take a shower and scrub the Rafferty’s grime off my body.”
“See you tomorrow, then?”
He ran a hand through his hair, which was messy from his helmet, and nodded.
I turned toward my room, but something didn’t let me move. “Unless…” I knew what I planned to say but wasn’t actually sure how I planned to say it. “Unless… That couch can’t be very comfortable, and you’re probably exhausted.”
Drew’s eyebrows narrowed a bit before the implication of what I’d said seemed to wash over him. His lips parted, and for a moment I thought he was going to make an awkward suggestion less awkward by making it himself, but he remained silent as he waited for me to continue. Why did he have to be such a goddamn gentleman?
I tried to think of the best way to go about inviting him to stay in my bed, but all I could come up with was, “Do you want to sleep with me?”
That was so not it.
If this conversation had been through text, I would’ve immediately sent one of those emojis with the girl’s hand covering her face. Instead I did nothing as I watched his mouth open wider.
“I mean… That’s not what I meant. I mean do you want to sleep with me in my bed? Sleep. Like actually sleep. My bed’s gotta be more comfortable than that couch.”
“Technically it’s Brody’s bed.”
“Whatever,” I said with an eye roll. “Don’t make this even weirder than it already is.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He moved toward me, a goofy smile threatening to spread across his face. “I’d love to sleep with you, Sophia.”
I wish I could’ve figured out how to trap those words in a little box that I could open whenever I needed to smile.
Chapter Twenty-Four
S O P H I A
I was going to throw up. Or my head was going to explode. Or both. The auction had finally arrived, everything was set up in the sorority house, and people were starting to arrive. This was a great time to start having a panic attack.
“Hey, Soph, where did