Blitz (Blast Brothers #3) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,32

going down M-13.

I knew the feeling, even if we weren't exactly flying.

I turned and gave Chase a longer look. Judging from his easy demeanor, he didn't care one bit that he'd just been passed by a family sedan. In fact, I wasn't even sure that he'd noticed.

It was surprising and a huge positive in my book.

My last boyfriend had driven a classic Camaro, and he'd hated to be passed, as if it were a personal insult to his manhood.

But then again, that guy had been no Chase Blastoviak, whose manhood nobody would question in a million years. If the rumors were true, Chase had more notches in his bedposts than I had cookies in the cupboard.

And considering that I'd gone shopping just yesterday, this was truly saying something.

As these thoughts filtered through my brain, it belatedly hit me that I hadn't answered his last question. Not only that, I'd lost track of our conversation entirely.

With an embarrassed laugh, I said, "Sorry, you were saying…?"

"Your mom – what does she want to hear?"

Gosh, where to begin?

I hadn't talked to my mom since that last phone call in the lobby of Blast Tools, where she'd informed me that Ginger had gotten all blabby about the sponsorship – or lack thereof.

So of course, I knew exactly what my mom wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that Ginger was mistaken, that the sponsorship was fine, and that the festival would continue as planned.

Unfortunately, she also wanted to hear the truth, which put me in a bit of a pickle – unless, of course, the guy sitting in the driver's seat gave me the news I so desperately craved.

But I'd be a clod to ask.

Even worse, it would surely hurt my chances. So all I said was, "Trust me, you don't want to know."

This was true. And yet, I so wanted to make another pitch, to explain how much the festival meant, not only to my mom, but to nearly everyone I knew.

And while I was at it, I was also dying to remind Chase that the sponsorship would make hardly a dent in his promotional budget.

I knew because I'd done my homework. Last year, Blast Tools had spent a fortune on advertising, including several million dollars for a single Superbowl ad. My proposal was cheap in comparison.

I gave Chase another sideways glance. There he was, a captive audience within pestering distance. I so wanted to pester him.

And I might've done it, too, if it weren't for Tanya Malone.

Chapter 23

Chase

Mina still wasn't saying.

Normally, I'd let it go. Hell, normally I wouldn't care.

Come to think of it, I wouldn't have asked the question in the first place.

But I had asked. And now, after we'd been dancing around it for a few miles, the question was looming larger than it should've.

I let the question roll around in my brain. What would Mina's mom want to hear?

And why the fuck did I care?

I didn't.

I was just curious, that's all.

And that's where it ended. The last thing I wanted to be was that guy – the guy who pestered and begged until the girl gave in. Me – I didn't pester. And I sure as hell didn't beg.

For anything.

I kept silent for maybe another mile until a glance at the GPS told me I was running out of time. Ten more minutes.

It should've been five.

But I'd been driving like a granny with a walker in the back – too slow, too safe, and too conscious of the minutes passing.

What was my deal, anyway?

I was still wondering when I felt a slow smile spread across my face. I didn't beg. But I did bargain.

I was damned good at it, too.

Plus, I had something she wanted. Bad.

Looking to ease into the negotiation, I said, "So, you're good at keeping secrets, huh?"

"It's no secret," she laughed. "I just don’t want to get into it, that's all."

When I gave her a curious look, she added, "Hey, don't blame me."

I smiled. "So who should I blame?"

Under her breath, she muttered a name.

I didn't quite catch it. Maybe I wasn't meant to. But hey, she'd tossed it out there, so I tossed it back, guessing as best I could. "Tammy who?"

She hesitated. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

I was more than sure. "Go ahead. Hit me."

Mina gave me a long sideways glance before saying, "Alright. But remember, you asked."

"Deal."

"Okay, her name wasn't Tammy. It was Tanya. She was this girl I had in my least-favorite marketing class. She sat next to me,