“He’s a douche, and you deserve better than that.”
He opens the door to a sleek-looking sports car, holding it open for me.
“Did you steal it?” I question, hesitant to get inside.
He shakes his head. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“I don’t exactly trust you, Wesley. We didn’t really meet under great circumstances.”
He shrugs. “A dude’s got to eat.”
“Your dad is a police officer though.”
“One that doesn’t give two shits about me until I’m embarrassing him in front of his colleagues. Honestly, if I disappeared tomorrow, he probably wouldn’t even notice.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.” His eyes darken. “Now get in the car before they come out here looking for us.”
Whatever hesitancy I had breaks the second I see security throw open the front doors of the building, scanning the parking lot for us.
“Fine, but if this car is stolen, I’m throwing you under the bus.”
He laughs. “I assure you, it’s not stolen, Poppy. Now get in the car.”
We peel out of the parking lot at record speed, leaving our senior prom, my sister, our friends, and all the drama behind. At first, I embrace the silence and the loud roar of his engine as he maneuvers through the back streets of Reno’s strip, but then it gets lonely.
“So, you brought Morgan, huh?”
“You said no.”
“Aren’t you guys kind of dating?”
He shrugs. “Not really. She likes to parade me around school like I’m hers, but outside of the hallways we barely see each other.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m not interested in her, to be honest.”
“Oh? She’s one of the prettier girls in school, though.”
He glances toward me, his blue eyes twinkling in the overhead casino lights. “She’s not you, Poppy.”
My heart does a tiny little backflip, and I hate myself for liking it.
“Why are you so interested in me, anyway? We’re complete opposites.”
We stop at a light, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as his jaw tenses. “I like a challenge.”
“Is that all I am to you? A challenge?”
He laughs. “No, you’re much more than that,” he finishes, jaw unclenching. “You’re the one person who’s always called me out on my bullshit.”
“You say that like it’s a compliment.” The snort that follows makes me cover my nose.
“You don’t have to cover that up. It’s cute.”
“It’s revolting.” The way he stares at me makes me want things I shouldn’t. “Just like you,” I blurt out, unable to control it.
