Lai smiled back, shaking his head. “If you are going back, just go after dark. And don’t make it a conjugal visit.”
I stared at him guiltily, my face turning red. Busted.
“Boys and their cars,” Lai scoffed, bemused. “At least don’t go empty-handed.”
The way Lai gave me whiplash would put any drift car to shame. “What do you mean?”
“You’re visiting someone,” he said slowly, like he was explaining something painfully obvious. “You bring something.”
I understood what he was getting at. Bring a fruit basket when visiting someone in the hospital. A bottle of wine for a dinner date. But what gift does one bring to their impounded car?
Lai tossed me the keys to the Lexus and pulled out his phone, googling as we dropped into the car. The screen set in the dash flicked on as I started the ignition, loading the navigation app that linked to Lai’s phone.
“Where are we going?”
Lai shot me an annoyed look, pointing to the map, and I read the address as it popped up.
AutoZone.
Of course.
Fox was still, at his core, a car. Which meant he’d appreciate car things.
***
A short drive later, we stood inside a store filled withanything a car could want. Lai had already grabbed a basket and was heading for the first aisle. I followed, relaxed; I knew car parts, and I liked these shops. I could spend a couple of easy hours just wandering and idly fantasizing. I really hoped Lai wasn’t going to ask me what Fox liked, though, because I didn’t actually know.
“What about these?” Lai called, drawing me over. I watched in horror as Lai reached for the fluffy dice and slapped his hand.
“Are you fucking crazy? He’s a Mustang, not a Miata!” I protested furiously, mortified.
“Then start showing some initiative,” Lai smirked.
He was messing with me. I glared at him and looked around, trying to imagine what I’d want if I were a car.
I walked the aisle slowly, Lai trailing behind me like a very judgmental shadow.
“His leather probably needs conditioning,” I suggested, reaching for a bottle from the detailing section.
“I mean, that’s the equivalent of bringing massage oil on a first date,” Lai said, taking it from me and dropping it into the basket anyway. “But it’s a start.” He added a stack of microfiber cloths.
I thought back on my days with Fox. He was arrogant, curious, and high-maintenance. He sulked when I even considered non-premium gasoline.
He liked speed.
He liked control.
He liked it when I took control.
He was very, very proud.
An idea had started to form.
Fox was probably uncomfortable sitting in that dusty parking lot. When was the last time he’d had a proper detail? I began to fill the basket with top-of-the-line care products. Wash, glass cleaner, wax, detailing brushes that would reachinto all the little crevices and tickle him in all the right ways. I splurged for the best brands, the ones you didn’t buy unless you actually cared.
Lai watched, nodding approvingly.
“Not exactly subtle,” he commented. “Breaking into an impound lot to wash your car. But you know what? This is good. You’ve grown. You used to show up without even a condom.”
