“Come on,” I said, steering her by the arm and changing directions. My place was five minutes away. It was the only option. At least until she stopped throwing up. But then what? I couldn’t put her in a rideshare in this condition. Escorting her to her place on campus at this time of night wasn’t viable either, especially after crushing Callingwood in tonight’s game. There would be angry, drunken Bulldogs fans prowling campus, and I needed my limbs in working condition. “Come on where?” “You asked me to go home with you. So that’s what we’re doing. We’re going to my place.” Bailey frowned.
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