I roll my eyes, and he grins at me. Am I in an alternate universe?
But I lead him outside. His eyes widen when he sees the van. “Wow. It cleans up nicely.”
He inspects it thoroughly from the front bucket seats to the cargo space in the back. “Pop the hood on this baby and let’s check out the engine.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. “Do you know anything about engines?”
He raises his brow. “Do I need to know?”
Fair enough.
“I didn’t clean the engine,” I warn him before popping the hood latch.
I want to check the fluids before we leave in the morning, so it works out. I expect Vivian to leave as soon as he gets a look under the hood. It’s all a big joke, after all. But he sticks around.
“Have you ever changed your own oil, Vivian?”
“I’ve never owned a car, Jonah.”
I bite back a smile. “Well, it’s good information to have.”
“I’m sure it is.” His words are almost a purr when he asks, “Are you going to teach me?”
My body doesn’t remember we hate each other. Or that we’re stepbrothers. I’m having a hard time remembering it too. I turn to hide my reaction to his words. This is not the time or the place. That would be never and nowhere. I’ve gone the last six years without ever having this problem. Why is it happening now?
Because it’s definitely becoming a problem.
But at least it’s my problem alone. There’s no way Vivian is into me. Why would he be? I’m way too boring.
I move closer so I can point out the different parts of the engine. “This is where you check the transmission fluid. And this is the wiper fluid. And this is the oil.” The scent of oil and gas from the engine mixes with the lavender from Vivian’s body wash.
“Who knew there were so many fluids involved?”
I never know how to take the things Vivian says, so I ignore that and grab one of the rags I brought with me to clean the car. I pull out the dipstick. “You need to wipe it off first, so you can get a good read.”
“Of course.” His face is in profile as he stares at the engine.
“Are you making fun of me?”
He laughs, giving me a little of his real smile.
I keep going. “After you make sure it’s clean, you stick it back in.” I don’t even have to look at him to know what he’s thinking. “Get your head out of the gutter, Vivian.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
I push the dipstick back in, then pull it out and hold it up for him to see. “It’s full because I’ve already changed the oil, but you can see that it’s right where it needs to be. If it’s below this line,”I say, pointing, “we need oil soon. If it’s below this line, we need oil now. Got it?”
He nods, biting his lip in concentration. Is he really taking this seriously?
“Now you try.”
“You’ve already checked it.”
“Okay, fine. Check the transmission fluid.” I point to the appropriate handle.
He pulls the dipstick using two fingers, his pinky out as if he’s afraid to get anything on him. I hate to admit it’s kinda cute. I hand him the cloth.
“Like this?” he asks, looking up at me.
