“How much will you miss driving?” It was a stupid question, but I needed to fill the weird silence that was hanging in the air.
“A lot. I can drive on private property, though. There’s a track that I can use to take a car round — I’ve done it before a few times.”
“No speed limit?”
“No speed limit.”
“Does the club know?”
“They don’t. No. I don’t drive fast enough to be dangerous and I don’t take risks, but I do blow off steam.” He relaxed a little more into the seat. “How long have you had this?”
“Four years. It’s a really good car.”
The smile on his face that I could see out of the corner of my eye told me he disagreed.
“I’m not a petrol head, Jesse. As long as my car isn’t going to break down or cost me a fortune, it just has to get me from A to B.” I slid into the car park at the Maserati garage, feeling sorry for my little Golf, having to be parked near what were supermodels compared to its… well, average form.
His eyes flickered with more amusement. “Let’s negotiate. I’m not being driven around for six months in this, although there is nothing wrong with it, it’s just not for me. I’ll show you what I like, and you choose from that.”
“As long as you don’t taunt me over my choice. If I make that choice. I might decide that after this morning I’d rather move into Nate’s shed than drive you around everywhere.” We both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Whatever occurred that night when Jesse drove off, we’d always gotten along well before. He’d hung out a ton at Nate’s, and while he knew how to push my buttons, I knew that he did it on purpose.
“I’m sure it’s a very nice shed. Just like you have a very nice car.”
We were out of my car now and he was close enough for me to backhand his stomach, although my hand was worse off after I hit him.
His abs were officially made of steel.
“Ow.” I glared at him. “What are those made of? Did you tense them?”
“You were trying to hit me. Course I tensed them.” His hand went to my back. “Can we behave like adults now?”
“We can try.” There was a handful of cars in the forecourt, all of which could’ve appeared on a high-end car show. None of them had prices in their windows or at the side. “Is this a case of if you have to ask how much it is, you can’t afford it?”
“Pretty much. This is my one indulgence, Jerrica, apart from my house, so I don’t tend to look at the cost.”
I nodded, not wanting to ask any more. It felt like a different world.
Nate was part of that world. He had a couple of cars that turned heads and his house was amazing, but his lifestyle was pretty much normal. I knew he invested and next year he was planning on a couple of big holidays, but he’d never flashed any cash, even when he was younger and first signed. Chan had been a little flashier. She’d liked her designer clothes and shoes, and Nate had indulged her, but I knew he had drawn some lines.
He struggled to get Amber to let him even pay for all the baby stuff, which I knew irritated him. There had been a couple of times when I’d found him almost upset because she’d argued her case so hard for going halves to some of the stuff they’d bought.
In the end, I’d interfered, explaining it to her from Nate’s point of view. He just wanted to look after them both, her and the baby. I knew she’d have a dicky fit when she found out that the house was going to be put in her name in another few months.
I planned to be well out of the way that evening.
Jesse’s lifestyle wasn’t that different. He didn’t party like some of his teammates, although he did go out more than Nate. I didn’t remember him ever having a girlfriend, and I hadn’t heard any gossip from Jude about him hooking up with anyone apart from someone that really was just a regular hook-up. Jesse had his cars and his tats and his friends who he hung out with. He trained hard — I knew he didn’t drink during the season — and he was seriously involved with Manchester Athletic and their work in the community, which was part of the reason he’d been made captain.
He kept his hand on my back all the way from my car into the showroom.
“Are we going to end up in a gossip column if you’re touching me like that?”
His response was to shift closer into me, his hand on my hip. “The salespeople here won’t gossip. They’re too used to dealing with clients with money, and it might be easier if they think we’re together. Less explanation.”
“I get it.”
His hand didn’t move.
