It’s only a half lie. The situation with Amy has gone off track, and that’s my own fault, I know.
“I get that, but still… You gotta keep it together, buddy.”
The worst part is that basketball wasn’t the only thing I messed up today. Now that I think about it, SexyBikini’s trip was sloppy, too.I fucked it up, and that only makes me want to double down to make sure it never happens again. I’m going to have to rethink how I deal with Firebird. Suddenly, Don’s “no sex with the trainees” makes perfect sense, and the truth is that every time I’m in a car with Amy, we end up getting it on.
Donovan moves on to something to do with Carrie, but I’m only really half listening, and by the time we get to the Java, my mind is still whirring. Carter’s sister waves at us from behind the bar, we get settled at our usual table, and a few minutes later, Finn and his friends roll up to join the party.
“What’s new with the Campus Drivers crew?” he asks as I sip on my sparkling water.
“We’re cruising.” Don winks.
“I heard you’re training up your replacements; some guy on the football team says you’re onboarding a girl.”
Jeez, can we move on from this already?
Don nods. “Yeah, she’s Conley’s!”
“He said she’s hot.” Finn grins. “Sounds like I’ll be using your app more.”
“Not if I blacklist you,” I growl.
Don kicks me under the table and I glance up. He’s got the strangest look in his eyes.Shit!
“Amy’s gonna be an amazing Campus Driver,” I try. “But she’s not easy.”
“Even better!”
I stifle a grin. Picturing Finn trying to get it on with her is hilarious—he’s so not Firebird’s type. Come to think of it, I can’t think of anyone on campus whowouldbe her type.
Why am I even thinking about this?
As the guys chat, I keep one eye on my phone, checking the time, exhausting myself with my flip-flopping. Amy suggested I swing by her place after the game, and on any other day, that’s exactly what I’d be doing—no question. I was the one who suggested we hook upagain soon, after all. There’s an uneasiness about tonight, though—us hanging out is messing stuff up for me.
It’s all gone too far.
I scroll through my messages and start a new draft.
LEWIS:At the bar with the guys, just celebrating whooping their asses. I’ll come by another time.
Direct. To the point. It’s better that way. It’s better I don’t tell her when exactly that will be. I need to create a little space between us. I’m picturing her sitting right there by her phone, because she fires off a reply a second later.
AMY:OK.
Brief. Concise. Somehow, that reassures me. I shove my phone back in my pocket, surer than ever that from this point on, I need to see her less and focus on what’s really important here. This isn’t hard—in fact, it should be easy.
22AMY
I’m driving home alone, and the week I just had is flooring me. I haven’t seen Lewis since our SexyBikini adventure. It’s been seven days since he last messaged—some bullshit about how he has too much on his plate and can’t train me up anymore.
Every time I start to miss him, I repeat the same mantra over and over—I’m Amy Hitman. I don’t need anybody but myself.It works for all of three minutes, and then I’m back to melting down. I can’t stand the grip he has over me, and so I’ve upped my workout schedule, trying to sweat him out of my system. I need to forget it all—how I could spend days just watching him drive, nights just pulling him into me on the back seat. The way all my broken parts seem to slot together under his weight.
I pull up outside the shop and head to my room, stopping in my tracks when I hear that all-too-familiar sound. Slowly, I turn to the garage. RJknowshow much I love the plasma cutter. Would he really get it out without asking me to join him?
Apparently so. What is it, Disrespect Amy Month, or something?
I clatter back down the stairs and storm through the door.
“You limp-dicked littletraitor!”
