“I’m doing perfect.” I plopped my purse in my lap, cuddling it close. “Avery and Teresa are really excited about the space . . .” I spent the trip to my apartment going into detail about how excited they were. Brock listened, and whenever I looked over at him, he was grinning as he concentrated on the road. It seemed like it took only seconds to get to my apartment complex. I blinked, and we were in the parking lot, and I was staring up at my darkened window. Unease crowded the happy buzz in my veins. It was early, not even ten o’clock, and the only living thing in my apartment was Rhage, and it was a Friday night. Being alone on the weekends sucked, because everyone else was out there. I didn’t know where exactly, but they were there, and I was over here, doing nothing.

“I’m walking you up,” he announced, turning off the car. He twisted toward me. “You think you can manage those stairs?”

Offended, I swung my head around and nearly toppled over. “I can walk.”

Even in the dark interior I could see the amusement etched into his face. “Are you seriously going to sit there and act like you’re not drunk?”

“I am a . . . little tipsy.”

“I never would’ve guessed that,” he replied dryly.

“It’s your fault,” I grumbled, opening the door. I started to get out and then choked myself with the seatbelt. “Damn it.”

Brock laughed. “I’m not denying that.”

It took me a couple of moments to get out of the car. “But I can fully walk up those stairs.” I pointed at them just in case he had no idea what I was talking about. “I don’t need your help.”

Grinning, he slowly approached me. “Okay. You don’t need my help, but how about I offer it to you anyway?”

I stared up at him, eyes squinty. “When did you become such a gentleman?”

“I’m not a gentleman.” He took hold of my hand. “Trust me.”

“I don’t know about that.” I let him guide me across the parking lot. “Wait. You know what would be great? Ice cream.” Slipping my hand free, I wheeled around and started heading back to his fancy car. “We could go get ice cream.”

“Come back here,” he said, laughing. Circling an arm around my waist, he turned me back around. “Let’s wait on the ice cream. See if we want to eat that in a little bit.”

“Why?”

“Might make your stomach a bit upset after drinking the whiskey.”

“Hmmm. That sounds legit.” I stopped talking because I found we were in front of the steps and I needed to concentrate. They proved more difficult than anticipated.

At my door, I slipped my purse off my shoulder and found my keys where the hall swayed a bit. I pulled them out and promptly dropped them.