I provoked a civil war with our little game, and heneverretreats. My feet are lead, frozen in place. He dips his face, inhaling deeply, and his nose skims my neck while I fumble with my phone. The whisper of his minty breath on my skin makes my heart race.
So this is how it ends. Oh well. If it’s my time…
“What about peach pie?” His words hum in my ear, and tingles explode like a thousand tiny land mines all over my skin. “Can you make that?”
Still looking down at my phone, I find my get-out-of-jail-free card and tap play with shaky hands and my breakfast doing cartwheels.
“Anything but cherry pie, baby.” I smile wickedly as the raunchy Warrant song starts.
If you know,you know.
I slide my phone in my back pocket and pat his stubbled cheek in sweet victory. Undoubtedly, he notices my handstrembling, and my breaths are so shallow I might pass out, but I’m still claiming this win. I also make a mental note that I took things way too far this time and I need to—as my mom would say—check myself before I wreck myself.
I don’t know. Seems like a fun way to go.
“Whoa, you’re spicy this afternoon!” He bolts up to full height, laughing as I brush by him. “I’m cutting you off. No more hair metal for you. You’re listening to Christian radio in the car, and I’ll have to pray for you more than usual. Let’s go, Punk.”
He grabs my keys off the counter, then swipes my phone out of my back pocket, silencing the music as I whip around in shock. It would appear I’m not the only one feeling bold today.
“What? I’m putting the address in your GPS.” He smiles with mock innocence. “I’ll follow you to my Uncle Dale’s house. He’s already got the parts, so let’s see if your car starts or if you need a boost.”
“See ya later, Annie!” I call up the stairs.
“Bye, y’all! I’ll catch up with you later!” she yells back.
I shove the cash into my wristlet wallet as we walk to our cars. They’re parked closely side by side in case mine needs a jump. His bigger SUV dwarfs my small one like exact representations of ourselves.
“Why did Annie just text you ‘Vroom Vroom’?” Daniel asks with amusement.
Oh, nooo, he has my phone.
“She’s probably reading biker romance. Give me that.” I train the look on my face to stay generically annoyed rather than panicked when I attempt to grab my phone back.
He pulls out of my reach, eyes narrowing to investigate my expression. He knows it means something because I never care if he has my phone.
“One second, I almost have it,” he says, looking a little too suspicious.
He tosses me the keys and tells me to try to start my car. The display comes on, and the radio starts playing. Ironically, itison a Christian station, which makes me giggle, but lights are flashing all over the dash. That isn’t funny at all.
“Ok, pop the hood. Let’s get her juiced up,” he says, handing my phone back through the open door.
I know how to do this, but I’ll never stop him from doing it for me. I second-guess if everything’s connected right no matter how many times I double-check.
He connects the cables and tells me when to start. The engine runs a few minutes before he disconnects and closes both hoods, then he comes back to my window and tells me to start the GPS and head out first so he can follow me.
“The house is about twenty minutes away in Betsy. Gray house with dark wood shutters, a big garage and wide driveway. There’s probably a red truck parked to one side and maybe a silver one if my Uncle Pete’s there too. The house number is six eighty. Turn on your hazard lights and stay as far right as you can in case you lose power. I’ll be watching,” he assures me.
I stare up at him with a big dumb smile, loving how he handles everything.
“What?” He smirks. “Too bossy?”
I shake my head, still grinning like a goon.
He gives me a sly wink as he turns to walk back to his car. “It’s hot, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea,” I mumble to myself, watching him shamelessly.
My stress melts away for exactly half a second before he calls back to me.
