“I just swung by to see whether you got home okay.”
“You need help, Raven.”
“You left early this morning. Where were you?”
Here we go again… Officer Raven, reporting for duty.
She knows I help RJ out when he needs a hand calling in his debts. And she hates it. I try to keep a low profile so she doesn’t worry more than she already does.
“I went to pick up a part from a supplier.”
“What kind of part?”
“A transmission.”
She eyeballs me. “Right.”
“?‘Right’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just ‘right.’?”
“Right…”
I drain my soda and toss the bottle in the trash.
“That goes in the recycling.” My sister frowns. “Green for glass—remember? Charlotte and I are trying to teach Joey about the planet. Lead by example, Aunty Amy!”
“Oh my God!” I slap a hand over my forehead. “I forgot all about your latest baby-brain obsession. You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m gonna: I actually think this pregnancy is worse than your first one.”
As soon as I say the words, I regret them. I cringe silently, stooping to put the bottle in the right trash can, keeping my back turned to her. Bringing up the time she was pregnant with Joey is triggering for her, and I get it—those were bad times.
“I’m going to my room. Lemme know when the coast’s clear?”
“Those guys reallyarefreaking you out, aren’t they?”
I hear her laugh trailing off as I slope out, shutting my bedroom door behind me and cranking up the music before falling back onto my bed and gazing up at the ceiling.
Am I freaking out? No—it’s worse than a freak-out.
I can’t think of the right word. Whenever I find myself backed into a corner, my strategy is always the same—go heavy or go home. It might not be the best personality trait, but it’s all I’ve got. My mind drifts back to Lewis, to how my body reacts every time I see him, to the week ahead. I’m not freaking out—I’m a ticking time bomb.
12:29 P.M., AND I’M READY.I spot Lewis leaning against his car, flipping a coin in the air, waiting for me. He’s punctual, that’s for sure. And he’s even cuter when he’s focused.Fucking annoying.
“Come on, Amy,” I grumble to myself, clenching my fists.
I’m not going to let some guy ruin my day—even if heistall, dark, and superhot. I give myself a mental bitch slap.You’re Amy Hitman, remember? Badass extraordinaire…
Apparently, my self-empowerment skills are taking the day off. I spent the entire weekend obsessing over these training sessions, to the point where I’ve completely exhausted myself.
“Just get your shit together, and get it done,” I try again. “Focus on the cash. Focus on showing the dean what a great job you can do.”
Focus on all that quality time you’ll be getting with your hot-ass mentor.
No! Absolutely not. I refuse to act like some lovesick preteen.
And yet, I need to face the facts—here I am, practically drooling over what I can only describe as… a crush.
I shudder.
