He opens the bottle and swallows one pill before starting the engine. “It’s mainly for me but you can have some if you need it.”
“You get car sick?”
“Sadly.” He moves the gearshift and the car starts moving backward, startling me. On instinct, I grab onto the handlebar with my right hand, not caring that I might regret it eventually.
“You’re not the only one who has a weakness with motor vehicles,” he tells me. “It’s not as bad when I’m behind the wheel but last time Jake drove with me in the car…” He visibly winces. “Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. I’ve been the designated driver ever since.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
He shrugs. “If it means he gets control of the aux, then I don’t think he cares.” We finally stop at a red light before he turns to face me. “Speaking of, did you want to play any songs?”
“I’m not picky,” I answer. “You decide.”
Carson shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the rule. The passenger picks the music.”
“I should not be in charge of the music.” Because I never know what to pick. I don’t freeze up on the spot but when it comes to music, my brain draws so many blanks that it would take a truck filled with cement to close them. “Please, Carson. Just pick something. I’m truly okay with whatever you choose.”
He tilts his head for a second before reaching for his phone and tapping on it. Probably to pick a song or playlist. It has me thinking: what genre of music does Carson listen to? Alt-rock? Hip-hop? Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised if Taylor Swift starts playing.
But when I hear “Someone New” by Hozier spill through the car speakers, I’m utterly taken by surprise. God, I never thought that a guy could get hotter because of his taste in music but a guy who listens to Hozier? That alone may or may not have turned me on.
Just slightly.
Carson pulls into a parking lot and turns off the engine. Huh? Why did he stop? “Are we already there?” I ask him.
“No, we’re only halfway,” he tells me, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door. “You’re going to take us the rest of the way.”
My jaw drops at his announcement. “I…but…what??”
“That’s my plan.” He closes his door and quickly rounds the car to open my door. “You said you never got a hands-on lesson, so I’m going to give you one.”
Forget the dropping jaw—I’m frozen in my seat. “But, what about your motion sickness? I could be so bad that we’d have to pull over and—”
“Why do you think I brought the Dramamine?” He offers his hand and I slowly take it, feeling the warmth of his grasp. “Besides, you won’t be the worst driver with me teaching you.
“But—”
“You never know unless you try.”
I take a deep breath and round the car over to the dreaded driver’s side. Never in my life have I been so complacent until this very moment. With each step I take, I’m closer to my biggest fear—okay, second-biggest fear.
“Diana.” Carson’s voice breaks through my panic but I can’t face him. My limbs are stuck. I’m not moving a muscle.Why are you doing this, Carson?
“We’re gonna die!” I say.
“No, we won’t,” he assures me in a calm tone. How the fuck is he not freaking out? “I will instruct you on what to do. The engine’s also off. Turn it on first andthenyou can start panicking.”
“This is not the time for sarcasm, Carson!”
“Diana, listen. I know you’re terrified. But here’s the situation: you’re the one in control, here. You’re the one who decides how fast the car moves, which way to turn, and how fast to break. I’ll give you directions on where to go but the road ahead is yours. You can’t let that fear control your life anymore.” I feel his hand touch my bare knee—my jeans are ripped—and I feel my chest moving. Okay, at least I’m breathing.
My head finally turns to him and his blue eyes meet mine, not starting away for a nanosecond.
“Grab life by the steering wheel and get moving.” A determined smile caresses his face. He trusts me to get us to whatever location he had in mind.
All I need is to trust myself. So I press the red button, start the engine, and slowly ease my foot onto the gas pedal. Carson instructs me on which direction to turn so I don’t hit anything because if Jake found out, he’d murder us—Carson’s words, not mine.
I leave the parking lot and it’s mostly smooth driving from here. Which means we’re stuck in traffic the closer we get to Marbella Beach, a beach town just off the Pacific Coast Highway.Especially because we’re taking the long route that avoids the freeway entrances.
