1LANE
It’s past midnight when Carter pulls up outside my apartment building in his crappy old Ford. I honestly have no fucking clue how he can stand getting around in such a wreck. The parking brake screeches like it’s being murdered as he yanks it up.
“So?” He turns down the radio and flings an arm over the back of his seat. “What’s it like being the passenger princess for once?”
“Doing my best to suffer in silence,” I deadpan. “I really shouldn’t be friends with a guy whose car is ninety percent rust.”
“Hey, now, don’t be insulting my ride. She’s vintage, man. They literally don’t make ’em like this anymore.”
“A true blessing to mankind. I thought I was gonna die at least three times tonight. And that was just this one trip. There’s absolutely no way you got your license legally.”
“How dare you,” he says, clutching his chest like I’ve wounded him. “I’m a great driver!”
“Right. So what was it—bribery? Blackmail? You fucked the driving instructor?”
“I’m a professional, my man.”
“Yeah—professional hazard, maybe,” I snort.
“Unbelievable! I’m basically like a father to you, Lane, and this is how you treat me?”
“When it comes to father figures, let’s just say karma really did me dirty.” I shoot him a look, then add, “But seriously—thanks for the rides this week, Cart. Even if my life did flash before my eyes every time we hit a red light.”
“Anytime, babe.”
He puckers his lips like he’s waiting for a thank-you kiss. I duck under his arm, shooting him a look that screams,Don’t push it.
He laughs and leans back dramatically. “Ruthless! No gratitude, no love—nothing?”
“Thank fuck I’m getting my baby back from the garage in a few hours. An actual decent car. Shiny, reliable,notheld together by duct tape.”
“Just in time for the fall semester—wouldn’t want those campus girls dying of thirst for their favorite driver.”
I scoff as I unlock my phone and open the app my best friends and I set up a year ago. Campus Drivers: your ride around Sycamore Heights University—one of America’s largest campuses—in three simple swipes. Pretty fucking genius idea, if you ask me—easy money, driving always helps clear my head, and, well… let’s just say the late-night shifts came with nice perks, too. Now that summer’s wrapping up, I’m itching to get back in action in more ways than one.
“I’m already booked solid for the next few days,” I tease, waving the screen in front of his face.
“School hasn’t even started back and they’re already all over you. Makes me sick!”
“You could have signed up for college,” I remind him with a shrug. “All you had to do was fire up those brain cells and get your act together.”
The dean had agreed to our idea but with a few caveats: we could operate on campus and the surrounding area, but we had to pee in acup every now and then, avoid screwing clients on campus grounds, and be enrolled. Carter can’t even stick to one of those rules, let alone three. No pain, no gain, and all that.
“It’s not my jam, anyway.” He grumbles around a yawn, stretching. “Sitting there listening to some cranky old lecturer drone on about the Spanish Revolution.”
He pretends to retch. “I’m better off working on my little indie scripts—that’s all the thrill I need.”
“Speaking of: You coming over tomorrow evening so we can iron out the last scenes?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Night, Carter,” I say, getting out of the car.
“Back atcha, buddy.”
I slam his door shut, marveling at the fact it stayed attached, and stroll toward my apartment building. Most of my friends live together on campus, but I like having my own place. It’s close enough to college, but just far enough out to get some actual peace and quiet. Plus, it gives me dibs on all the clients who live farther from the dorms.
I punch in the code, shove the door open with my shoulder, and head for the stairs. I usually take the elevator, mostly because I live on the top floor and I’m lazy—but also because I try to avoid bumping into the cougar in 3B. She never leaves her apartment, but her door is right next to the stairwell, and as soon as she hears me pass by her place, she jumps out, ready to pounce. I swear it’s like she has this wild sixth sense or something. Problem is, the elevator’s been out of order for two days now, which means I’m about to risk it all walking past 3B.
