Last Ride Read Free

only one of us can have her. Only one of us deserves her.
    I drop my gaze and let Aisha pull me into the house. The overpowering smell of smoke and booze hits my nose. Good thing Drew’s parents aren’t back from Mexico until Saturday. It’ll take days to clear the air.
    â€œWanna dance?” Aisha slurs. She’s all over me, like hot wax on a car. Hannah hasn’t noticed. She’s still focused on Cole.
    â€œIn a minute.” I survey the crush of bodies, looking for Blair. I need to talk to him about his front end. Convince him Ray’s the guy to do the job.
    â€œOh, come on!” Aisha tugs on my arm, and my stomach flips. Her perfume smells like rancid cookies.
    I ease out of her grip. “Have you seen Blair?”
    She pouts and gestures beyond the archway to the dining room. I spot a bunch of guys grouped around an oval table, doing shooters. “He’s back there with Drew and the rest of them.”
    â€œI’ll catch you later.” Careful not to go anywhere near Hannah and Cole, I weave through the dancing bodies toward the dining room.
    â€œShields!” Drew bellows when he catches sight of me. He’s holding a bottle of tequila in one hand, a shot glass in the other. He’s surrounded by half a dozen guys, including Blair and Lucas. Lucas was supposed to bring his Civic into the shop for transmission work. Good. I can hit them both up at once.
    â€œWhere were you? I expected you hours ago.”
    Of course he did. I used to be the first to arrive and the last to leave. “I was at the shop working on an engine.” I direct my words to Blair, but he and Lucas are laughing hysterically about an episode of South Park and aren’t paying attention.
    Drew shoves a glass at me. “Here.” He gestures to the lime wedges and saucer of salt on the table. They’re surrounded by beer, vodka, mix and chips. “Get set up,” he adds. “We’re celebrating.”
    â€œYeah? Thanksgiving was last week. What’s the occasion?”
    I’m stalling. Don’t get me wrong, I like tequila. A lot. It’s a great way to kill pain. I glance over my shoulder, glimpse the back of Cole’s head. It helps me shut out what everybody else is feeling too. I need that. Sometimes a lot. But drinking tequila makes me stupid. My gaze settles on Hannah. And she hates it.
    â€œI’ve done my admissions applications,” Drew says when I turn around. “Three suckers all filled out.” He belches. The stench of beer and tequila makes me reel backward.
    â€œOnly three?” Geoff skips the salt and goes straight for the tequila. “My old man made me do five. Plus apply for a pile of scholarships.” He downs his shot.
    I don’t want to talk about college admissions and sats and scholarships. It reminds me of Mom and the mess we’re in. The mess I created.
    â€œHere, man.” Drew rubs lime on a shot glass, dips it in salt, tops it with tequila. “Drink up.” He presses the glass into my hand.
    â€œI’d rather have a beer.” I can nurse a beer all night, drive home without worrying.
    Blair snaps to attention. “I’ll take your tequila then.” He plucks the glass from my hand.
    I grab a Bud and pop the tab but don’t drink it. “I thought you were coming in to get your front end done?”
    â€œChange of plans.” Blair flips a chunk of his too-long red hair out of his eyes. “There’s this guy my brother knows. With a tricked-out Lancer. He has an awesome mechanic up in Everett who does all sorts of neat crap—”
    â€œLike Ray,” I interrupt.
    â€œExactly.” He grins, completely misses my point. “I’m thinking about getting him to do my front end.”
    â€œYou’d drive forty miles to get your front end done?” Of course he would. I drove almost two hundred miles once just for a special set of rims.
    Blair nods.
    â€œI