“Can’t I just call you anyways?” She laughed and took her drink. “It’s not that I don’t think she is worth the shit. It’s that I am not worth it. Not worth whatever trouble I will inevitably cause. I am walking train wreck.” Ew, she was being emotional. Since when did drinking make her a sap?
“Call me anyway.” Skye traced the rim of her shotglass with her index finger, mulling over Darcy’s words.
“But, you are,” she said with some delay, finally turning to look at her, “You might think you’re not worth much, but, all offense, you don’t have the bigger picture. The kind of bigger picture I have, sitting here looking at you and not your cleavage. I’d get in trouble for you in a heartbeat, and you know I’m hanging onto this bureaucratic hell with everything I have left. I’d give it up for you. Others would, too. If you happen to stumble into a rare asshole that can’t see it, how important you are, fuck them and call me.”
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