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“But I am her big brother,” he’d said. “Same diff.”

I’d almost opened my mouth again to remind him she was a grown woman, but I didn’t want to bring attention to the fact I’d noticed. And fuck, I’d noticed. Gone was the little girl with golden brown pigtails and freckles I remembered from when Eli and I were kids. Gone too was the almost awkward young woman I’d seen here and there on social media when Eli posted shots of one of their family gatherings.

Now, she was a woman. A soft, kind, sweet woman who always said hi when she saw me and asked me about my family, even when I barely gave her more than a few-word answer.

But it didn’t matter. Chelsea was Eli’s sister, and if he saw me ogling his little sister, he’d probably punch me, best friend or not. Maybe especially because I was his best friend.

Thank god his back was to the street now.

I tried to concentrate on the conversation happening next to me—more talk about the Mastiffs and their sad starting lineup—which had just kicked the shit out of us. But then the first woman—Chelsea’s friend—giggled as she dropped something. She bent over and picked up an object that flashed in the evening light, shaking them up high over her head.

Keys. I sat up straight.

Were they planning on driving?

The woman held the keys out and a car around the corner chirped—I could just make out the lights flashing too. Then Chelsea’s friend hooked her arm in Chelsea’s and they toddled down the street toward it.

My heart thumped in my chest. I couldn’t let them drive.

“I gotta go,” I said, standing up abruptly. I pulled out a couple of bills and tossed them on the table.

“Wait, what?” Eli said.

But I took advantage of his confusion and slipped between the tables, hopping the patio partition and jogging across the street.

I reached the women as the first one was fumbling with the door handle of her sedan.

“Hey,” I said.

Both of them startled and when the first one tensed, reaching for her purse, I realized I hadn’t thought this out.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Oh,” Chelsea said. “It’s Seamus. Hey Seamus.”

“Hey Chels. You’re not getting in this car, are you?”

“Oh… yeah, we’re going to this party Mia heard about up in the Hills.”

Mia, who’d relaxed once she saw Chelsea knew me, jingled her keys in front of me. “You wanna come?”

I looked at her a moment, assessing, then reached out and grabbed the keys from her hand. It was an easy take.

“Hey!” she’d exclaimed.

“Sorry,” I said, genuinely sorry. I wasn’t a rude person. I didn’t like doing it. But I wasn’t letting her drive like this.

Especially not with Chelsea in the passenger seat.

“I’ll drive you two home,” I said.

“I’m not going home,” Chelsea said. Then she hiccupped.

“I’m driving you home,” I said. I couldn’t in good conscious drive an already wasted Chelsea Kelly to another party. There was no way in hell. I was taking her back to her place, chucking her into her room, and hopefully, she wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.

“You know what?” Mia said. “I think some of those Greenville guys said they were down to party. I’m going to go back inside. Can I have my keys, please? Promise I won’t drive.”

I unhooked her car fob from her key chain, pocketing the fob and handing the rest back to her.