“I’m Diane Carrington,” she said.
“Ethan Walker.”
“I know. Maya mentioned your name before she decided she was going to become best friends with every bottle at that party.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
Diane smiled.
Then her expression softened.
“Thank you for bringing her home. You could have left her to someone else.”
“She’s my best friend’s cousin. I wanted to make sure she was safe.”
“That’s a good reason.”
She glanced toward the windows, where rain was now streaking the glass.
“It’s nearly two in the morning, and the roads are getting slippery. The guest room is ready. You should stay until daylight.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be accepting a practical solution to a practical problem.”
She paused, then added, “Besides, I would rather explain to my daughter tomorrow why a decent man drove home tired in the rain than explain why I let him do it.”
