CHAPTER 24: DRUNK (III)

Aiden POV:

I made my decision in a heartbeat, reaching out to stop her descent.

But as she fell into my arms, her laugh echoed in the stillness of the night, light and carefree, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

And I couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of chaos had I willingly brought into my life?

Getting her into the passenger seat was more of a struggle than I anticipated. By the time I clicked her seatbelt into place, she had gone from giggling to acting like a petulant child. As I leaned in to secure the belt, her hands darted out, pinching my cheeks in a playful, drunken gesture.

"You’re so cute!" she slurred, her voice laden with amusement. "I don’t remember you being this adorable when I was ordering you around earlier."

I snorted, pulling back before she could pinch me again. "In your dreams," I muttered. "I take orders from no one."

Her laughter bubbled up again, light and carefree, completely oblivious to the frustration simmering inside me. I slammed her door shut, ran a hand through my hair in exasperation, and muttered under my breath. She was definitely not on the agenda for tonight’s "after-dinner tasks."

Now came the real dilemma: I didn’t have the faintest idea where her dingy little apartment was located. Not that I’d ever needed to remember the exact location after reading her profile, and frankly, I wasn’t sure I cared to. But here I was, stuck with her drunk self, with no idea what to do next.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I buckled my seatbelt and started the engine. My mind raced with options, none of them particularly appealing. I couldn’t just leave her somewhere—not my style. Taking her to some random hotel would invite unnecessary complications.

Then it hit me.

She’s going to be moving into my place soon anyway, right? Might as well expedite the process.

It wasn’t ideal, but it solved my immediate problem. Decision made, I adjusted the route and began driving toward my villa. The suburban roads were quieter this time of night, lined with trees and devoid of city noise. The shortcut meant fewer interruptions and no late-night gawkers, but it also meant no convenient pit stops along the way.

I glanced at her every now and then. She had dozed off almost immediately, her head tilted to one side, a strand of hair falling over her face. For a brief moment, she looked peaceful—almost angelic.

Almost.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, her peaceful demeanor shattered. She stirred, groaning softly before mumbling something incoherent. I ignored it at first, keeping my eyes on the road.

And then she announced it.

"I want to pee."

I nearly slammed on the brakes. "You what?"

"I need to pee," she repeated, louder this time. She shifted in her seat, knees wiggling together like a child desperate for the bathroom.

"Are you kidding me?" I growled. "Hold it. We’re almost there."

Her groan of protest was immediate. "No, no, no! I can’t hold it! I’m really, really pressed!"

I clenched my jaw, glancing at the dark, empty road ahead. We were in the middle of nowhere. I had chosen this route specifically to avoid traffic and the chaos of the city, but now it was working against me. There wasn’t a gas station or convenience store in sight, let alone a restroom.

"You’re going to have to wait," I said firmly.

"I can’t!" she whined, her voice reaching an almost panicked pitch. "If you don’t stop, I’m going to pee in your car!"

Absolutely not. The thought of her desecrating the interior of my favorite car made my stomach churn. Groaning in frustration, I slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Fine," I snapped. "But make it quick."

The moment I stopped, she fumbled with the seatbelt, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. "I’m going to pee on myself," she muttered, her cheeks flushed red—whether from the alcohol or her embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.

"Not in this car, you’re not," I said through gritted teeth, reaching over to help her unbuckle the belt.

She stumbled out of the car, barely making it past the door before starting to fumble with her pants. I got out also quickly averted my eyes, staring straight ahead at the dark road, I couldn’t leave her out in the open in the dark deserted place. My patience was wearing dangerously thin, but even in my frustration, I felt a twinge of disbelief at the absurdity of the situation.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

The sound of her mumbling behind me only added to my irritation. "Hurry up," I barked, resisting the urge to glance back.

"I’m trying!" she slurred.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. I’d imagined a quiet dinner, some necessary conversation, and maybe—if I were lucky—an uneventful driving her back to her apartment. Instead, I was babysitting a drunken, unpredictable whirlwind who had somehow upended my entire evening.

Is it too late to back out of this? I wondered briefly.

The rational part of me quickly shut down the thought. Backing out now would be a logistical nightmare. Besides, where would I find someone else at this time within less than three days who fit the profile as perfectly as she did? Like it or not, I was stuck with this little minx.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard her shuffling back toward the car. She plopped into the passenger seat, her expression somewhere between sheepish and triumphant.

"All done," she announced with a grin.

"Fantastic," I muttered, slamming her door shut and walking back to the driver’s side. Sliding into the seat, I started the engine and pulled back onto the road, silently praying for the rest of the drive to be uneventful.

For a few blissful minutes, it seemed my prayers had been answered. She was quiet, her head leaning against the window as the hum of the car lulled her into a half-dazed state.

But of course, it didn’t last.

"Hey, Aiden," she said suddenly, her voice soft but insistent. Wow she actually knows my name. For a minute I thought she didn’t.

I clenched the steering wheel tighter. "What now?"

"Do you think you’ll always hate me this much?"

Her question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Hate her? That wasn’t the right word. She was infuriating, unpredictable, and far too impulsive for her own good. But hate? No, I didn’t think that was it.

"I don’t hate you," I said finally, my voice low and measured.

She hummed softly, as if considering my answer. "You act like you do," she murmured.

I didn’t respond. There was no point in explaining myself to her, not in her current state.

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, save for the occasional muttered comment from her that I chose to ignore. By the time we reached my villa, I was thoroughly drained, both mentally and physically.

Parking the car, I turned to her, preparing to help her out again. But as I reached for her seatbelt, I realized she had already fallen asleep, her head tilted at an awkward angle and her breathing slow and steady.

Perfect.

I leaned back in my seat, staring at her sleeping form for a moment. She looked peaceful again, like she hadn’t just turned my evening into a circus.

With a resigned sigh, I stepped out of the car and walked around to her side, Intending to opening the door. This night wasn’t over yet, and I had a feeling the real chaos was only just beginning.

I opened the passenger door and crouched down, debating whether to carry her or wake her gently. She stirred suddenly, her eyes fluttering open, still glassy from the alcohol.

Her gaze darted around sluggishly before locking onto mine. "I don’t feel so good..." she mumbled, her face scrunching up in a way that sent warning bells ringing in my head.

Before I could process her words, she let out a faint gagging noise and clutched her stomach. My heart sank as realization hit me.

"Oh, no, no, no," I said sharply, leaning in.

But she was already fumbling for the seatbelt, her movements frantic. "I think I’m gonna—"

"Don’t you dare!" I barked, scrambling to unbuckle her seatbelt.

Her face was pale, and the panicked look in her eyes told me she was seconds away from making my worst nightmare come true. Desperately, she clawed at my hands which was also fumbling, struggling to push me as I cursed under my breath, my patience snapping.

.