She rocks me from side to side before pulling away, her smile big and bright. “Seems like I misseda lotwhile in Utah. He was so nervous the other day about your lunch date…oh my god, are you blushing?” she exclaims when my cheeks flush a tattletale red.
“Women my age do not blush. It’s a hot flash.”
She snort-laughs, then lowers her voice. “Seriously, I’m so happy for you both.”
Fallon presses up behind me, and I instinctively reach for his hand and wrap it around my waist. “How was the camping trip?” I ask her.
Her face goes all smirky as she looks at us. “Good. But enough about me.”
Laughing, I reply, “I only asked you one question and got a one-word response.”
“Well, your life is way more interesting at the moment.”
“We’ve got stuff to do.” Fallon pulls me away and marshals me toward the garage.
“Like date stuff?” she vibrantly exclaims.
“Goodbye, Aurora,” Fallon says.
“Cookout at the house on Sunday,” I holler.
“I’ll call you tonight—if you’re not otherwise preoccupied!”
If I wasn’t blushing before, I am now.
“Sorry about her,” Fallon says, placing a possessive hand to my back as we enter the massive five-car garage through the side door, the familiar scents of motor oil and rubber greeting me as soon as we step inside.
Overhead lights automatically flicker to life, spotlighting the sleek lines and glossy paint of the hypercars parked in neat rows.
I may gawk at a few of them. “Is that a Pagani Huayra?”
The times I had come here to visit Aurora or Trevor, I never ventured beyond the main house, so I’m seeing all this for the first time. It reminds me how Fallon and I grew up in vastly different worlds. The wealthy playboy and the small-town girl. Yet, he and I make sense because of what we both survived.
Pressing his thumb to a keypad, a door to a small cabinet clicks open, and he grabs something from inside. “Want to drive it?”
Is he kidding?Yes!
“Absolutely not,” my common-sense brain decides to say. That car is worth over five million dollars. No way in hell am I risking getting even a scratch on it.
He chuckles at my adverse reaction that contradicts how I’m staring at the beautiful machine with longing. “We’ll take the Porsche.”
He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide into the buttery leather of the bucket seat and buckle up. The interior still has that new car smell.
Fallon folds his long legs when he gets in, the engine purring to life at the push of a button.
Out of habit, I mess with the radio to find some decent music. “So, where are we going?”
He flashes that dimpled smile my way. “You’ll see.”
The garage door lifts, and he takes off. Ryder instilled in me the love of fast cars. There’s nothing more exhilarating thanspeeding down a wide-open road, the windows rolled down and music cranked high.
“If we’re going to argue, I’d rather do it now before we get to wherever we’re going.”
His eyes shift my way, then back to the road. “What are we arguing about exactly?”
I nervously chew on my thumbnail. Fallon reaches over and takes my hand away from my mouth, then holds it in his while it rests over the gear stick.
“I invited Jayson over on Sunday.” I notice the tight set of Fallon’s jaw when I say it. “Look, I know you?—”
