“Where are we going?” She realized he’d never asked her address.
“We just need to make a quick pit stop.” Abby examined his profile as he drove, wondering where he could be taking her, but decided not to push it. The guy was giving her a ride home, and while he acted flirtatious and cocky, she didn’t get a bad feeling about him. For some reason he made her feel comfortable and safe. It was strange, since she didn’t normally trust people she didn’t know, but she decided to just go with it for now. It wasn’t like she’d see him again after he dropped her off at home. She rolled down her window and rested her arm on the ledge, letting her hand ride the stream of air flowing past.
After a few minutes Lance pulled into the driveway of a one-story brick house. It appeared well kept up, if a little shabby around the edges, with a crack in the driveway and weeds in the yard. They were in an older neighborhood with big trees, mostly pines, but a few maples here and there.
Lance cut the engine and looked at Abby. “Do you want to come in? My roommates should be gone, so you won’t have to deal with any other random guys.”
“Uh, no. I’ll just wait in the car.” Lance examined her face, lingering on her lips for a second longer than necessary. Then he shrugged.
“Okay. Be back in a sec.” He got out of the car, and only hit two of the three steps to get to the front door.
Abby looked around the interior of the car now that she had nothing else to distract her. It was surprisingly comfortable and clean compared to the rundown look of the paint job. The tan vinyl was torn in a couple places, but there no clutter or trash lurked in the corners or on the floor.
Lance came back out a few minutes later wearing a clean T-shirt. He carried another shirt in one hand, flipping his keys around the first finger of his other hand as he jogged down the front steps. He slid into the car and put the extra shirt on the bench seat next to him, turning his body to face Abby.
“I wondered if you wanted to go hang out somewhere. I brought an extra shirt for you in case you said yes.”
“Where would we go?” Her tone of voice betrayed her surprise, but she was curious too.
“Wherever. We could get dessert somewhere or something. I’m not ready to be home for the night.”
“You could just drop me off at home and go back to the party.” Abby felt compelled to point that out.
Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess. I was bored at the party, though. The friends I came with were already wasted, but I’m too picky about my booze to get drunk on crappy beer and bottom-shelf liquor. I was looking for an excuse to leave when you crashed into me.”
Abby reached out and picked up the shirt. Staring at it in her lap, she fingered the soft blue fabric while she considered her answer. Did she want to go out with this guy she’d just met? Or would she rather go home? Since Megan was still at the party, she’d have the apartment to herself.
“You could just take me home and let me change into one of my own shirts and then we could go out.” She looked at his face, gauging his reaction.
Lance still faced her, his eyes locked with hers. A small smile curved his lips. “I could.” He drew the words out. “But then you might overthink it and tell me no. This way you change and we can go. Plus, there’s a twenty-four-hour diner with great pie not far from here, and I’m hungry now. It’d take too long to drive you home first.”
Abby thought about it for another minute. “Can I at least change inside? I don’t make it a habit to flash guys I’ve just met.” Even though you’ve pretty much seen it all already. She stopped herself before she said the last part out loud.
Lance opened his mouth like he was about to say something, a mischievous look on his face. Then he seemed to think better of it, his expression clearing. “Sure. Come on.”
Abby followed him up the front steps, his pace less hurried than the first time. The front door opened into the living room. College guys definitely lived here. It was comfortable enough, but mostly utilitarian, with no concern for décor. A large flat screen TV dominated the wall to the right, with wires, gaming consoles, and controllers in a jumble around the small entertainment center. Battered and mismatched furniture completed the room, looking like hand me downs or thrift store finds. There were no pictures on the walls, and the curtains covering the large bay window had either come with the house or were hand-me-downs from someone’s mom.
Lance opened a door to the left of the TV. “This is my room.” He reached in and turned on the light. “You can change in here.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
The comfortable and utilitarian theme extended into the bedroom, with a queen-sized bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a bookshelf crammed with books the only furniture. Discarded clothes littered the floor between the bed and the door to the bathroom.
Abby went into the small bathroom. It was surprisingly clean from what she knew of college guys’ bathrooms. No globs of toothpaste left in the sink, and only a few items on the small counter—hand soap, deodorant, shaving cream, aftershave lotion, and a razor. The soap sat on the edge of the sink, the other items clustered neatly in the corner next to the wall.
Abby stripped off her tank top, dropping it on the floor. She grabbed a washcloth from a pile of mismatched towels under the sink, got
