“I had the night off, so I thought I’d drop by to talk about Kris.”

Chelsea looked around. The girls were all off getting drinks, though Bash noticed several of them glancing their way.

“Did you talk to him?”

“I went out with him the other night. You’re right—he’s like a functioning alcoholic. I can hold a lot of liquor, but the amount he drinks without showing signs of getting drunk is unbelievable. I told him I was concerned about his drinking.”

“What did he say?”

“That he could handle it, and that he’s always had that much to drink, which isn’t true.”

Chelsea sighed. “So what’s next?”

“I already called his parents and his brother. They’re aware, and they said they’ve discussed it with him as well. He blew them off, telling them the same thing—that he can handle it.”

“I’m sorry, Bash.”

He shrugged. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to admit he has a problem. All I can do is let him know I’m there for him if and when he decides he wants help.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “You’re a good friend.”

“So are you. Thanks for letting me know. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. Maybe because he and I haven’t been out together lately.”

“If you haven’t been around him for a long night of drinking, you probably wouldn’t notice it.”

He laid his hand over hers. “I sure as hell would have never set you up with him. I feel bad about that.”

“Don’t. Nothing bad happened. It’s just something I noticed and thought you’d want to know about.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned to look at the cheerleaders. “I should get back to the girls.”

“Okay. So, you want to have dinner later? I figure I should at least buy you dinner to make up for setting you up with the wrong guy.”

She cocked a brow. “You don’t owe me dinner, Bash.”

“I know I don’t. But I want to.”

She shrugged. “Okay. I have another hour here, then I’m done.”

“Sounds good.” He glanced at the clock on the gym wall. “I’ll pick you up about six thirty?”

“Perfect.” She handed Lou back to Bash, giving the dog a scratch behind its ears. “See you later, sweetheart.”

“Okay, honey,” Bash said, then winked.

Chelsea shook her head and walked off.

Bash made his way back to the truck and slid Lou inside. She snuggled up on his lap. He smiled down at her. “Guess I should take you home, let you romp outside for a while, then feed you dinner before I have to meet Chelsea,” he said, then realized he was starting to have regular conversations with Lou. “And don’t tell anyone about our talks, okay?”

Lou stared up at him silently.

“See? I knew I could count on you.”

He started the truck and pulled away.

“Who was the hot guy, Ms. Gardner?”

“Is he your new boyfriend? And how come we didn’t know about him?”

“His dog is so cute. A guy with a tiny Chihuahua? Oh, gosh, how adorable is that?”

“You’re dating Bash Palmer? My dad knows him. He is so hot.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes at the barrage of questions from the girls. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

Vivian, one of the co-captains of the cheer squad, jutted her hip out and laid her hand there. “Seriously? How could you be just friends with a smokin’ hot dude like that?”

“Easy. I’ve known him since I was on the cheer squad here at Hope High. And as you know, that was a very long time ago.”

Vivian sighed. “Still, he’s pretty fresh for an old dude.”

Chelsea laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

After practice ended, she went home and changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top, then slid on a pair of wedges. She checked herself out in the mirror and decided she looked pretty good. After all, it wasn’t a date, and Bash was probably just taking her to Bert’s diner for dinner anyway.

She saw him pull into the parking lot of her apartment complex, so she grabbed her jacket and purse and headed outside.

“I was planning to park and come to your door,” he said, giving her a look of displeasure after she climbed inside his truck.

“No need. It’s not like we’re dating, Bash. Besides, I’m hungry.”

He laughed. “Okay. Let’s feed you.”

He surprised her by taking her to the Italian restaurant in town instead of Bert’s. The place had opened last year and was always packed, mainly because the food was amazing and the service was awesome. It was a family-owned restaurant, and Chelsea sometimes stopped in for some great home-cooked pasta.

They had to wait a few minutes for their table, but she didn’t mind at all. She had a chance to stop and talk to the parents of one of her students, much to the student’s embarrassment, since he was also there. But the parents were eager to know how their son was doing in her math class, so she took the opportunity to update them.

When the waitress sat them at their table, Bash smiled at her. “I’ll bet you get that a lot.”

She looked up from her menu. “Get what a lot?”

“Running into either students or parents when you’re out.”