I’m still standing between her and the open passenger door when her brown eyes shine up at me in disbelief. “You can’t be serious?”
“About what?” I say somewhat defensively.
“You’ve never had another girl in the cab of your truck aside from your sister? Who, by the way, has one of the coolest names I’ve ever heard.”
I smirk down at her. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever even asked to get in my truck, Taevin Gray. Now, let’s go get you that ice cream cone.”
Shutting the passenger door, I quickly round my truck and slide in beside her to start it, making sure to crank up the heat when I do. Rubbing my hands together to warm them up, I bring them to my mouth and blow on them, before turning to Taevin and asking, “So, what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
Looking her over, I try to guess before she responds. My money is on her favorite flavor being vanilla with sprinkles on it, but she surprises me when she says, “Monster cookie in a waffle cone—there’s just nothing better than the peanut butter flavor hitting my tongue followed by the crunch of the frozen M&Ms. What’s yours?”
I’m left somewhat stupefied imagining said ice cream hitting her tongue, but I think she’s completely clueless to her effect on me, so I try to pull my shit together. Clearing my throat, I reply, “Mint chocolate chip.”
“Like your eyes,” she murmurs under her breath, but with the way she’s facing me, gazing into my eyes, I’m able to catch what she said.
“I’ve got mint eyes?” I ask, amused by how easily her cheeks heat.
Biting her bottom lip, she nods in response. “They’re not quite blue, but they’re not simply green either. They’re almost like sea glass, don’t you think?”
“I guess they kind of change in different lighting, so that’d be a good comparison.”
“And the color is rare,” she points out, and the breathlessness in her tone, combined with the way we’re leaning toward one another, is leaving me heady.
I wonder what she’d do if I leaned in and kissed her right now. Would she turn away and get scared off? Would she tell me to get lost?
Before I can ponder that further, Taevin’s phone lights up with an incoming call. She looks at the screen and says, “It’s my dad, I’d better get this.”
Swiping accept, she answers, “Hey, Dad. The game just ended, and I’m going to grab some ice cream on my way home.”
I can’t quite make out what is being said on the other end of the call, but when Tae lies about who she’s getting ice cream with, I stiffen beside her.
Sure, her father is our pastor, but I didn’t take Taevin as the lying teenager type. The thought that maybe she’s only lying because she’s with me, and perhaps I’m someone to lie about, is unsettling.
When she hangs up, she turns to me and it’s as if she’s read my mind when she says, “I’m sorry I lied about who I’m with to him. It’s just that my dad is overbearing and extremely strict. If he knew I was with a boy right now, regardless of the fact that he’s a member of our church, he’d come pick me up and dragme straight home. And then he’d likely ground me for the rest of senior year.”
“So you’re a senior?” I ask.
She shakes her and giggles at me. “Yes, I am. But is that all you got out of that?”
“No, I heard every word. Look, I get it. My dad is . . . strict too. I’m not upset you lied to your dad about me, just a little surprised by the action, is all.”
She mock-gasps. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’ve already put me in the perfect Taevin Gray, church choir girl box. How will I ever live up to your expectations now?”
I’m fucking obsessed with this little bit of personality I’m seeing from her. It’s unexpected, yet refreshing at the same time.
Shifting into reverse, I rest my arm on the back of her seat and turn to pull out of the parking lot. “Come on, let’s get you that waffle cone before I put you on a pedestal, Tae.”
3
Now
Asteady beeping accompanies the pounding in my head and the heaviness of my eyelids as I struggle to open them.
It takes me a few moments to register that I’m in a hospital bed. And I’m clearly not alone because my right hand is warm and someone is holding onto it for dear life.
I slightly turn my neck and am surprised to find someone is hunched over with his head in his hand that isn’t holding onto mine. And I’m even more shocked to realize that someone is not my manager, Kyle. No, this man before me has far too broad of shoulders to be Kyle.
“What happened?” I ask him, my voice hoarse.
