I find myself trapped beneath the weight of his stare, and I swallow hard because I think I know exactly what he’s thinking. A few days ago, if I was in this situation with a handsy, drunk Nash, I would have been over the moon, and planning exactly how to seal the deal with him tonight. But everything has changed now. I’m almost positive Harley feels it, too. His arms around me and the heaviness within his gaze are surely proof that it isn’t just me.

But, before I can think too much into it, before my heart beats right out of my chest, I’m literally saved by the bell at the sound of the bus horn honking from outside, and I thank whatever god is above as I turn and follow the guys. As we make our way out through the front door and down the steep steps, I don’t miss the way my heart is thumping a lot faster than it was only moments earlier.

***

I’m not surprised when we get asked to leave the steakhouse swiftly after we’ve barely finished our main course. Seth has his shirt completely unbuttoned while singing the chorus of a Guns N’ Roses song to a group of middle-aged women at the next table over. Nash has a breadbasket on his head, and is standing on his chair while reciting all fifty states in reverse alphabetical order because someone bet him ten bucks he couldn’t. I hastily finish what’s left of my beer before wrangling the guys, while Harley picks up the check.

Outside, I lead the way back to the bus with the rag-tag team of drunks behind me, and I glance back over my shoulder to see Harley practically carrying Nash who still has the damn breadbasket on his head.

“Let’s go to the strip club!” Kevin shouts with a defiant fist in the air as he staggers past me toward the bus.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I begin cautiously.

“Aw, c’mon, Murph. Don’t go all girly on us, now!” Seth laughs, nudging me playfully with his elbow on his way past.

I place my hands on my hips, glaring at the both of them. “Don’t call me a girl!” I yell, causing them to chuckle. I roll my eyes at them as I continue, “Nash is wasted.” I look back to where Harley is clearly struggling with Nash. “I doubt he’ll even get let in!”

“Buzzkill!” Seth groans.

“We could still go,” Kevin suggests with a shrug. “He can just stay on the bus and sleep it off.”

I laugh, shaking my head at the both of them as they pile onto the bus, and I move to help Harley as he and Nash approach the steps.

“Murph!” Nash yells, his dazed eyes seemingly lighting up as if he’s just noticed I’m here. “My Murph!”

I know he’s just drunk, but I’m momentarily taken aback by his words. My Murph? He stumbles forward, shrugging out of Harley’s grip and I’m not prepared when he launches for me, wrapping his arms around me so tight I fall back into the side of the bus as I try to carry his unexpected weight.