“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, and I meant it, feeling all sorts of guilty.
Derek didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at me. The guilt gnawed at my stomach and I felt like shit. Why would he have done that? Called in sick for someone he barely even knew. I mean, it wasn’t like I mattered. He didn’t even have to care about me. When he pulled the truck over and killed the engine, I swear to God my heart stopped.
“Get out.”
I wanted to object, but my mouth was dry, and his voice was commanding, but strangely enough, not a bit intimidating.
I watched as he unbuckled his own seatbelt and slipped from the vehicle before I had a chance to say anything. When he vanished, I felt my whole body burning up. Fear paralysed me. I’d never been so terrified in my life. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but still. It was my own stupid fault. I was the idiot who’d gotten in a guy’s car, a guy I’d known for a few hours, and driven away with him. I was digging through my bag, trying to get to my phone, or pepper spray, whichever I found first, when the cool night air hit my face. There he was, leaning casually against the frame looking as sexy as hell with a confused, if not slightly bemused smirk on his face.
“Well?”
“Wh-what?”
“I’m waiting, Mia.”
“For?”
“You to get your cute butt out of my truck.”
He winked. I wanted to hate him, I really did. But for some reason, that wink, that one little gesture, as insignificant as it may have seemed, melted away my fears, and I was no longer afraid. His presence was dominating and I should have felt trapped, but I didn’t. Slowly, I reached down, undid my seatbelt, and climbed from the truck, landing just inches from his feet before looking up. Straight up. He was huge. Fucking gigantic. I couldn’t help but feel insignificant.
He reached out and dropped his humungous hand on my shoulder and trailed it down my arm until his fingers wrapped around my own. Thankfully, I don’t think he noticed the trail of goose bumps he left in his wake. Pressing the keys into my hand, he smiled a half smile that did something to my stomach…something I didn’t quite understand.
“What?”
“You’re driving.”
“Huh?”
“You. Are. Driving. Get in.”
“Don’t be stupid, Derek,” I admonished him. I couldn’t drive his vehicle. It was fucking huge. And his. And I wasn’t driving it. Not tonight. Not ever. No way. Nuh uh.
“Stupid, hey?”
“Come on, you know what I mean.”
“Mia, you’re driving. Come on. Get in and drive us somewhere. Anywhere. I need a beer. So take me somewhere I can get a cold one.”
It was official. I was an idiot.
I had been so caught up in the way his lips were moving, not necessarily even hearing the words coming out of his mouth I hadn’t even noticed him manhandling me out of the way so he was now in the open door and I was left standing in the cold. I didn’t even notice until he dropped into the seat and shut the door between us, leaving me standing there in the gutter, my mouth gaping with the keys dangling on my fingertips.
“Shit head!” I muttered as I kicked a non-existent rock before stomping around the back of the truck and clambering into the driver’s seat. Fuck, this thing was huge!
It took me forever, or at least it seemed like it, to get settled and adjust everything. Part of me felt like a bitch, but the other part, the bitchy part, thought good! If Derek was going to insist, practically force me to drive his beast, then he could spend twenty minutes later on resetting the mirrors and the seat and every other contraption on this thing that moved.
“Anytime now, sweetheart,” he taunted.
“I’ll go when I’m ready.”
“I’m sure you will. I’m just wondering how many birthdays I’ll have missed by the time that happens.”
Asshole thought he was funny. His chuckle reverberated through by body and heated parts of me that had no right whatsoever being anything other than icy cold. I had to get this car moving and now. The longer I sat here idling, the more chance I had of getting myself in one hell of a lot of trouble. Trouble I didn’t need and desperately wanted to avoid. Trouble named Derek Cartwright.
“What fun trouble he’d be, though…”
“Did you say something?”
“Shit!”
Fuck! Shit! Ass! I hated when I did that. Sometimes, more often than not, I forgot myself. Forgot where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. Forgot conversations were happening in my head rather than out loud and sometimes words slipped out. Or sentences. Or occasionally whole conversations.
“Nothing important. Ready.”
“Is the Pope Catholic?”
“Let’s hope I don’t scratch this thing,” I joked. Well, at least I made it sound that way. The truth was somewhere in the middle. I really did hope I didn’t scratch it. Or dent it. Or crunch the crap out of his gears. I was likely to do any or all of them.
After checking and double checking, I merged into traffic. It was an awesome beast to drive with enough power to make you feel on top of the world, but not too much that it made you nervous you were going to do something dumb. It took me a couple of minutes before I felt comfortable, but when I glanced over at Derek, I noticed he had his huge hands folded in his lap, and his eyes had fallen shut I knew he must have trusted me with his baby. It was a weird feeling. I had to keep reminding myself that I’d only just met this guy. Wriggling down in the seat, I settled in and just went with it.
