Brady took a long drink from his beer, ignoring Shane for a minute.
“You gonna translate Steve's idiotic code?” Shane finally asked.
Brady pursed his lip and let out a heavy breath. “Steve is the loudest and biggest mouth in SoCal.”
“That goes without saying, Brady,” Shane warned, letting his tone indicate that he wasn't in the mood to be given the runaround.
Brady scratched his head distractedly for a minute and let out a resigned sigh. “You really don't remember her?”
That was not what Shane was expecting him to say. But then Greta's blue eyes and smirk swirled through his thoughts for a second. Brady took his lingering silence as a no and he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.
“That last night we all went out. You were really smashed.” Brady was watching his reaction guardedly and Shane decided to swallow slowly. “You danced with her. For like, a half an hour.” Shane stared at Brady, not really sure why his words were suddenly unlocking blurry memories. He went on, “You were... really into her. You chased her into the parking lot and when she wouldn't give you her number you spent the next hour talking about her. You had seen her at the beach or some shit and you kept calling her—”
“Crazy girl,” Shane finished as the rest of what he remembered clicked into place. That was Greta?
Yep, that was Greta. It all connected. All of it.
“We found her for you and kept her around, waiting for you to get back.”
“Why?” Shane asked sharply.
“Dude.” Brady's blue eyes pinned him to his chair. “You told us to. You claimed her. Said she was yours and you'd be back for her.”
What.
The.
Hell.
“Did you tell her any of this?” Shane asked quickly, humiliation creeping into his gut. Greta was the crazy girl from the beach. The girl he'd danced with and he was pretty sure he'd kissed. Or at least tried to.
“Hell no!” Brady exclaimed. “We might act like idiots, but we're actually not.” He shook his head and Shane realized there was more he hadn't shared yet. “I just figured that you'd come back and do what you usually do. Which is hook up with a few blondes and forget all about Greta. But now she's decided that you're her next project. And I swear, Shane, if you...” Brady's face got tight and his voice trailed off as he clenched his jaw and shook his head.
“If I what?” Shane demanded.
“Greta's a sweet girl. She's been pushing for a while to get in over her head. I just didn't expect it to be with you.” Brady's scowl melted to a worried stare.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Shane's brows pulled together. He was conflicted about having this conversation. On one hand, he didn't want to talk about Greta at all, because as far as he was concerned, she was a separate part of his life altogether. But on the other hand, she was living with his friends and while he'd been off in another part of the world building a business out of a dream, they'd been here getting to know her better than he did at the moment. She had been working her way into his life. And becoming kind of a big deal in it.
“She has an idea of what kind of power she has over men. She usually uses it for good.” Brady made a sour face. “But I tried to warn her that one of these days she was going to have her hands full.”
“You don't think I can be saved,” Shane stated with a cynical smirk. That's something solid they could agree on.
Brady rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “No, I think you can. But I think—”
He broke off as Steve rejoined them, and Shane knew he would probably never get to hear the end of that sentence.
“Speaking of the dark angel, guess who I saw on my way back from the bathroom?” Steve gave Shane a loaded grin. “Greta's dancing with some college boys. She looks pretty trashed, you should go for it.”
“Why am I friends with you?” Shane asked with dismay.
“'Cause I saved your life when we were kids.” Steve looked genuinely wounded and then brushed it off quickly, refocusing on his original mission. He grinned again. “Garbo is crazy cuddly when she's drunk. Now shut up, and go get lucky.”
With that one word: lucky, Lucy's nickname, Shane went from being slightly irritated with Steve to wishing he had had more to drink. He had a hard enough time not thinking about how similar those two women looked. He wanted to get up, walk out of the bar, and go home. Call off the whole thing with Greta, it was clearly a disaster waiting to happen.
But he couldn't, in good conscience, walk out knowing everything Steve had said. He had to at least make sure she was going to get home all right.
He stood and stepped away from the table.
“Thata boy! Once a dawg, always a dawg!” Steve clapped him on the shoulder even as Shane and Brady threw twin scowls at him.
Shane skirted the perimeter of the bar, edging closer to the crowded dance floor. As he got closer, he easily picked out Greta's figure in the center mass of hysteria. Her dark hair was free and dancing around her shoulders and face. She had on ripped-up jeans and a gray t-shirt; not exactly clubbing attire, but she looked hot just the same. A couple of guys were trying to dance up on her, but she was more focused on the girl who was with her. Shane was only slightly shocked when the girl turned around and he recognized Clarke. He knew they were best friends, but he could never picture Clarke as having a separate life from her work life. Maybe this was why Greta had been on him to give her some more time off, she needed to let loose a little. It was good that he'd hired those three new people today to assist her, then.
He tried to get closer, but was finding it difficult with all the motion and random females pawing at him. He tried to steady a short red-head he'd accidentally bumped into who looked up at him with big doe eyes.
He turned around and found himself face to face with the object of his pursuit.
Greta's eyes widened in surprise, but she recovered quickly and flashed him a winning smile. “Shane!” She threw her arms around him and he felt her lose her balance and fall against him slightly. Cuddly drunk indeed.
He wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, leaned in close to her ear and shouted, “Are you guys okay?”
Her head jerked up and down in an exaggerated nod. He was getting ready to ask if they needed a ride home when she suddenly stopped smiling and went totally still. He followed her line of sight.
“Shit, my brother's here.” One of her arms jerked backwards, grasping for Clarke while her other one pushed against the center of Shane's chest. Her hand found Clarke's arm and yanked her off the dance floor. “If he sees me drunk, he'll never let me hear the end of it.”
Shane wasn't sure how to react. He looked back and forth from Greta's fleeing effort to Harrison. Her brother and Mike had already spotted them and anticipated their line of exit. Shane decided to follow Greta, mostly to see how this whole thing played out.
They all reached the side door at the same time.
“Are you drunk?” Harrison accused, grabbing Greta by the arm and looking hard into her face.
She rolled her eyes and tried to downplay the fact that she had just been trying to sneak out without him seeing her. “Like you've never been drunk before.”
Harrison looked at Shane and back to Greta. “Did Shane get you drunk? Was this his idea?”
“What? Hold on now.” Shane put his hands up in defense of himself. “I saw them just now—”
“Excuse me, but we're adult women,” Clarke broke in suddenly. “We don't need permission to have a good time.” At least that's what she tried to say but 'permission' came out as 'persimmon.'
Greta snorted with laughter, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth. Clarke tried to maintain her serious face, but the smile was showing through. Shane could see it then, their devotion to one another. If they were going to go down, they'd go down together.
Shit, they were cute drunks.
“We'll get you home.” Harrison tried to grab her arm again, but Greta took a step back.
&
nbsp; “No, I can get home without your help, thank you very much.” She looked around like she was looking for someone else.
“Tate left already,” Harrison said with a sigh. “She gave us your purses and said you were smashed.”
Greta pouted and looked at Clarke. “She called my brother on me. That is so not like her.”
“Well, we did ditch her for those frat boys.” Clarke leaned against her friend and pointed with her thumb over her shoulder.
“Yeah, we did.” Greta fist-bumped her and they dissolved into giggles.
Shane was having a hard time not laughing at them. Even drunk, Greta was fiercely adorable. But he could see her brother about ready to lose his calm. And Mike just looked generally uncomfortable.
“I can help you make sure they get home, man,” Shane offered slowly.
Harrison's jaw was working under the skin but he gave him a curt nod in agreement.
“Can we discuss this outside? I need some fresh air.” Clarke announced and looped an arm through Greta's, pulling her towards the door.
Outside, Harrison tried to corral the girls towards his Volvo, shaking his head. “I just don't understand why you guys got so wasted,” he said in exasperation as he dug his keys out of his pocket.
“Well, Greta said that I was afraid of boys and I said, 'I'll show you who's afraid of boys,'” Clarke tried to explain soberly but she weaved slightly and then lost her composure when Greta snorted again.
“So you were trying to pick up guys?” Harrison looked horrified and Shane had sympathy for him. It must be hard to have a sister with Greta's physical attributes in addition to her fearlessness.
“No.” Greta waved a hand at his absurdity. “We were just dancing with cute boys to get free drinks.”
Shane didn't think Harrison would make it much longer if Greta didn't stop. She seemed completely oblivious to his shock and chagrin. He was suddenly thankful he'd never had a sister.
“Get in the car, Greta,” Harrison said sternly, trying to keep his anger under control. Which was a surprise for Shane, because he'd always gotten the impression that Harrison was the most relaxed out of the band. At the moment, that title seemed to be held by Mike, who was patiently watching all of this unfold.
“I don't want to go home right now.” Greta put her hands on her hips and nearly lost her balance. Shane had to keep himself in check when his first instinct was to grab a hold of her. Somehow he didn't think that Harrison would be too keen on that.
“Don't be ridiculous, get in the car,” Harrison repeated tersely.
“Stop trying to boss me around. I don't want to go home.” Greta was staging her protest and Shane had to admit, she seemed reasonable despite her intoxication. “Steve will be annoying, and Bo will try to make out with Clarke, and I'm waaaay too drunk to hose him down tonight.”
Mike spoke up quickly, “Then stay at our place.”
Shane thought that seemed like a decent alternative. So did Clarke, apparently, as she was nodding emphatically, but Greta was still locked in a showdown with her brother. Shane realized this had to do with more than just how she was getting home.
Greta was used to doing things her way, she preferred it that way. And her brother was determined to have her do what he thought was best.
So Shane went with his gut. “Can I give you a ride, Greta?”
Greta's eyes slid over to connect with his, like she'd just remembered he was there. A small smirk tugged on one side of her mouth. “Yeah. That would be great.”
“Fine, have it your way,” Harrison growled. “Get in, Clarke. I'll give you a ride to work tomorrow.”
“Actually, Clarke has the day off tomorrow.” All remaining eyes turned to Shane as he continued, “I left you a voicemail. I hired a couple new people and I'll be training them this week. I'm giving you the next week off.”
“What?” Clarke was halfway in the backseat and she looked at him with cloudy eyes.
“Will you tell her again tomorrow?” Shane asked Mike, who nodded and got into the passenger seat of the car.
Harrison took a step toward him and narrowed his eyes. “If you take advantage of my sister, I'll kill you.”
“Understood,” Shane acknowledged with a head tilt, deciding that compliance was the best course of action instead of pointing out that the warning was wasted.
Shane hooked an arm through Greta's and led her to his Mercedes parked nearby. She stumbled along willingly and quietly. He'd expected her to put up some kind of an argument like she had with her brother, but she remained curiously silent.
He made sure she was buckled in safely and started the car. “You want me to take you to your place?” He glanced over when she didn't answer. Her head was resting against the glass and she was looking out at the night sky. “Garbo?”
“Call me Greta.” Her voice was rough from her wild night and he couldn't help but smile. She sure was a handful. “Take me to your place.”
Shane sighed. This was going to be interesting. “Okay.”
They rode together quietly and a couple of times he thought he might have to pull over to let her puke, but she held on to it.
“Don't worry, I won't puke in the Mercedes,” she laughed lightly.
“It's just a car,” Shane answered. He felt her eyes on him and he glanced over. In this light, she looked absolutely nothing like Lucy. All he could see were those eyes, so light blue they were nearly silver. This seemed like the perfect time for him to apologize for the other night. “I'm sorry about how I acted the other night.”
“I told you not to apologize.” Her husky voice sent a shiver through him, and he had to avoid looking at her again.
“Maybe this arrangement is a bad idea.”
“No,” her voice came out strained and she leaned her head against the window again. “I haven't even gotten to draw you yet.”
“If that's all you want, I'll give you a picture.” Shane chuckled.
“No, that's not all.” She sighed heavily. “I have to fix you.”
“What do you think is so broken about me?” Shane asked curiously.
“Your heart. You think you're not good enough. You've lost hope and confidence. I can help you build it back up. I can show you how beautiful you are. I'm really good at it. And you have the perfect frickin' body.” The last line came out in a frustrated whimper, and damn if it wasn't hot.
“You only want me for my body?” he teased lightly.
Greta groaned at his joke and tried to explain, “I really like the human body. I like the muscles and the way they move. I like to draw them, sculpt them, touch them.”
“Touch them?”
“I'm a physical therapy assistant. I help with muscle rehab and I give the best massages ever in the entire world,” she said matter-of-fact but slightly slurred. It was a cute combination.
“You're a cocky little thing, aren't you?” Shane quipped, but his blood was pounding. The idea of Greta's hands all over his body was too much to think about. Thankfully, they were already at his house and he could get out of the car and away from her for a minute.
He stepped outside and took a deep breath of the fresh air, clearing his head from the scent of her that had surrounded him in the car. But the moment was short lived because he heard her struggling to open her door. He rushed around to the other side and helped her out of the car. She tried to stand on her own but fell against him.
“Sorry, Brookings.” She smirked as she straightened herself. “It's a good thing you're so solid. Clarke would have gone down like a sack of potatoes.”
He hooked an arm around her waist and escorted her to the front door. She leaned against the doorframe as he worked the lock; he glanced at her while she watched his hands move.
“What were you drinking tonight, Greta?” he asked as she walked into the living room slowly, remembering his conversation with Steve and Brady before intercepting her on the dance floor. So this was Crazy Girl. He recalled that he had wanted to get her signed to the brand, and it
looked like that was going to pan out anyway. Why didn't she say anything about having met him before?
She stepped out of her shoes and made a slow pass around the room. “Tequila.” She examined the photos in their frames and the DVDs stacked neatly next to his television. “But it goes through me fast. I'll be sober before you know it.”
He set his keys down on the end table and turned the lights on in the kitchen. “How about a glass of water?” His eyes tracked her as she continued her slow perusal of his possessions.
“Sure.”
She continued her unapologetic study of his living quarters, going down the hallway. He filled a couple of glasses of water, grabbed a couple of ibuprofen and followed her.
His house wasn't anything to get excited about. Pretty basic, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a den. She stopped in the doorway of the second bedroom and looked at the empty floor and walls.
“I always intended to set it up as some kind of study but never got around to it,” he explained as he handed her the glass of water and pills. She took a small sip, swallowed the pills, and watched him with heavy lidded eyes.
“Did you see Tatewin tonight? She looked great, didn't she?” Greta shuffled down the hall towards the den.
“I've never actually met Tatewin. I was pretty sure Clarke made her up.” Shane turned more lights on to light her exploration, not really sure where any of this was headed.
“She's dating this rich guy, Edward. She's super smart and loves school.” She paused briefly before continuing, “My brother thinks I should go back to school. But I don't love it. In fact, I hate it. It makes me feel... trapped.” Her voice dropped so low he could barely hear her. She touched a framed picture of Shane with Luke and Lenny from their trip to Alaska.
“Look at you,” she whispered.
Shane stood closer to her as she wobbled slightly, not taking her eyes from the photo. “That was from last year, in Valdez.”
“I want to do that.”
“Do what?” Shane asked, letting his hand slide across her back and settle along the side of her hip.
“Go on an adventure,” she said softly, letting her body sag against his stronger one.
Tectonic (Double Blind Study Book 3) Page 7