Accidentally Amy(11)

He went into the hall and grabbed a couple towels from the linen closet, and a hoodie from the coat closet. I’m headed out already so it’s NBD. Just drop me your location.
Amy: AVP Blake cannot give Starbucks Amy a ride. I’m almost home - no worries. Thanks, tho.
He didn’t know why, but his stress was through the roof at the thought of her out in the storm, all alone. He texted: Blake from Starbucks is going for a drive, dumbass. Tell me where you are.
Amy: My hero! You know that Burger King that’s right off the interstate on Dodge?
Blake: You’re at the BK?
Amy: I should be there in ten minutes.
Blake: Where are you this second?
Amy: Walking on the side of the interstate, somewhere between the Dinkers exit and Dodge.
She dropped her location, and she wasn’t very far from his place. He got in his car and flew in that direction, struggling to see through the deluge, even with his wipers on high. I can’t believe she’s walking in this. Why wouldn’t she have called someone? He squinted, searching everywhere for her when he got close to Burger King, and then he saw a blurred silhouette in the darkness.
She was walking on the side of the interstate, a dark, huddled figure barely visible on the freeway shoulder. He threw on his hazards and slowed, rolling down his window so she could see it was him and not some creeper as he stopped beside her.
“It’s me - get in!” he yelled.
He couldn’t see her face through the rain, but she must’ve seen all she needed because she ran - literally - at his car. She threw open the front passenger door and looked ready to jump inside when she stopped short. Her eyes looked down at his seat and she yelled over the sound of the storm, “I’m soaked - I don’t want to ruin your nice seats.”
“Get in,” he shouted, wanting to grab her arm and jerk her into the dry car. “They’ll be fine.”
She got in the car and slammed the door, and as she sat, he saw just how drenched she was. Her hair was dripping and her clothes were saturated and her face was wet as she wiped it with wet hands. She was shaking - her body wracked with tremors, and he reached between the seats and grabbed a towel and the hoodie out of the back, handing them to her.
“Ohmigod, I love you so much,” she breathed, taking the towel and rubbing it over her head before just wrapping it around her like it was a blanket. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said, concerned that she kept shivering so violently. “Maybe you should put on the hoodie.”
“I’m fine,” she said around chattering teeth, “My apartment is on 50th and Sullivan. Thank you again, by the way.”
Blake put his car in gear and pulled back onto the road. “So where exactly is your car?”
“Probably about a mile back,” she replied. “I got it mostly off the interstate, so it isn’t a hazard.”
“You’re soaked to the bone,” he said, worrying about her tremors. “You need to take off your wet shirt and put on that dry hoodie.”
He expected a smartass comment, but she was clearly in the throes of hypothermia because all she said was, “Keep your eyes on the road or I’ll kick your ass, Chest.”
“You have my word,” he said, relieved she was willing to take his suggestion.
He cranked up the heat as he drove toward her neighborhood, ignoring the shirt removal that was going on next to him. Obviously she was so cold she no longer cared about privacy, because she wasn’t even trying to duck down or hide herself from other vehicles’ line of sight. Not that anyone could see anything, between the darkness and the downpour.
He drove a little faster, desperate to get her home before she froze to death, but his peripheral vision was picking up on her hands, wrapped around her back and unhooking her bra.
What the hell is wrong with you? Focus on the road, dipshit.
“Turn at the light,” she said, pulling the hoodie over her head. “And then take your first right, onto Price Avenue.”
“Got it,” he said, hitting his turn signal and clearing his throat.
“My building is the red brick four-plex, way down on the corner; it’s about a block up.” She pulled her hair out of the hoodie and leaned forward to hold her hands up to the dashboard vent. “I didn’t want you to come but I’m so incredibly happy that you did.”
“Why didn’t you call someone?” he asked. “I can’t believe you didn’t just sit in your dry car and wait for help.”
“I tried my brother and he didn’t answer,” she said, putting her face mere centimeters from the vent. “And I wasn’t that far from home.”
“Not that far?” It was unfathomable that she’d been strolling alongside the interstate where anyone could’ve run her down. “It would’ve taken you forty-five more minutes to get home, if you didn’t get hit, murdered or struck by lightning first.”
“Hey. You’re not allowed to scold me unless you know my middle name.” There was a teasing in her voice when she said, “Since you don’t, Mr. Chest from Starbucks, you should--”
“Clarence.”
He heard her gasp, and she was smiling with her mouth wide open when he glanced over. She said, “I forgot that you know that.”
“This it?” he asked, pulling to a stop in front of an apartment building. It looked old but well-maintained, surrounded by a lot of tall trees, and for some reason, he could picture her living there.
“Yes.” She reached for the car door with shaking hands. “Thank you so much for coming to get me.”