“Yup.”
“That because you’re in love, or because Donovan made you?”
“What do you think, you douche?”
I laugh. “You’re triggering my anxiety.”
I’m expecting him to bat back some quip—argue with me or explain himself or something—but he just shoots me this smirk, and I don’t like it one bit.
I’ve got a bad feeling about all this…
“Are you guys finally going to—”
He cuts me off, one eye on his phone. “My mom wants to know when we’re going to her place. I want to spend a few days there—any preference?”
This year, I’m spending Christmas with Adam and his mom, since my parents are busy working on a luxury cabin in Maine all through December. I don’t mind—I’m used to their insane work schedules, and I know we’ll catch up at some point. Plus, Nancy is like a second mother to me. She lives next door to my parents back in West Virginia; I used to spend a hell of a lot of time over there as a kid.
“I’ve got a game on the twenty-second, and then we’ve got our party on the thirty-first,” I think aloud. “So that would give us a week. That work for you?”
“Let’s do it.”
“That’ll give me a couple of days to spend at my tree house.”
Adam nods. “And between now and the twenty-second, I can go see Amelia in Washington.”
“And I can get back into my groove and focus on Firebird. And pick up a gift for Nancy,” I add.
“She’s gonna be an amazing Campus Driver, I can feel it.”
“Who, your mom?”
“Fuck!” he snorts. “Can you imagine? Yeah, drunk-driving would be a very unique selling point.”
We burst out laughing. There’s literally nothing funny about his mom’s drinking problem—not even a little bit. But after years of dealing with hot-mess Nancy and her endless rehab spirals, we’ve learned to put things into perspective. Things are still rocky sometimes, but overall, Nancy is holding up okay—and she’s managing to stick to the boundaries Adam and I have set for her, too.
“I was talking about Amy.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I got that part. Don’t forget you’ve only met her once, though.”
“She made a good impression on me.”
“We’ll see,” I temper. “I’m planning on talking to her before I sign her up for any more training.”
“Hey, you’re the boss.”
Adam’s right—Amy Hitman’s definitely giving Campus Driver vibes. She’s got a bunch of things going for her (ass included), but I really need some kind of reassurance that she plans on playing by the rules from now on. I need her squeaky clean.
14AMY
I keep my eyes locked on the garage wall, staring straight ahead as I jump rope on the gravel. It’s freezing out here. The whiny weather woman swears there’s a chance of snow in the next few days, but I’ve been pumping so hard I can barely feel the cold. Workout or no workout, I’m boiling with rage, anyhow.That limp-dicked jerk gave me the world’s shittiest one-night-stand brush-off I’ve ever heard. It was bad enough he even tried to bring it up. But the whole “conversation”? That was bad. Like, seriously bad. I should get my ass down to campus and shove a can of Fix-a-Flat down his throat. Then I could strap his ankles to my wheels and drag him through the streets, until…
I jump harder, faster, trying desperately to outskip my rage. I should be counting my reps, but my mind is whirring.
One, two, three, break your little knee.
Four, five, six, snap your bones like sticks.
Seven, eight, nine, make you scream and whine.
