His hands tighten on the steering wheel, but he pretends not to have heard me, or maybe he doesn't bother replying. It doesn't matter, not after what he's just said.
"I'm sorry for earlier. I thought Griffin would have carried you home safely. I didn't think he would take you to a party and get you drunk."
"It's not your brother's fault," I mumble; Griffin was only being friendly to me.
His jaw clenches, "it is. But it's also mine. Another man touched you, put his hands on you while you were drunk, and there is no telling what else he would have tried if I didn't get there in time."
I'm suddenly dizzy with happiness. Hearing the concern in his voice makes my body shiver in a way it's never done before. Before I know it, my hands are on the seatbelt; I need to be closer to him. I don'
