silent interior, I feel like an idiot as I caress the dash in front of me.
Scott pushes a button, turning over the ignition. The engine settles into a sexy purr that rumbles through the entire vehicle. I’m dumbstruck, not only by the fact that Scott has a car like this and that I’m riding in it . . . but that he’d bring it to my neighborhood. People are probably watching out of their windows from every direction. I remind myself that I’m not focusing on what he has that I don’t or how we live completely different lives. I’m enjoying the moment, taking the night as it comes.
“So, where are we going?” Scott asks as he pulls out and turns right, toward the main road. “You said casual.”
“Right. You know where Ice Land is?”
“Ice Land?” he asks, shaking his head. “Nope. Where is it?”
“Head over to the Interstate, and then get off at Highway 42,” I tell him, grinning. “You’ll see it as soon as we get there.”
Scott nods, and we cruise, his car seeming to float along the road as it handles like a dream. I feel even more like a princess, although maybe one who got dropped into a Fast & Furious movie instead of a horse-drawn carriage.
“Can I ask you something?” I comment as we reach the Interstate. Scott nods, not taking his eyes off the road as we hit the onramp. He barely taps the gas pedal from what I can see, but we’re somehow zooming along in the fast lane. “Well, were you serious that you stayed in a place like mine in college? I just . . . can’t picture that.”
Scott nods, his eyes cutting over to me for a moment. “Despite my name and the expectations that go along with it, I didn’t have everything handed to me. My father believes in fostering competition between the siblings, making us work for rewards. So each semester, one of us got their education paid for depending on who’d done best with grades, internships, letters of recommendation, and whatever other factors Dad wanted to consider. Let’s just say I’m not the favorite child, so I learned how to survive on microwave ramen and canned chicken.”
I grimace, not at the crappy food, but that a dad could treat his own kids so poorly. “Wow, that sounds . . . shitty. I’m sorry. I always wanted a brother or sister, but in my head, it was so we could be a team against the world, not battle each other for the last piece of cake.”
Scott grins. “Oh, I didn’t even tell you about the fights for the best cookies. Those were epic.”
He says it jokingly, lightening the conversation, but it somehow reaffirms my thoughts about his dad’s treatment of the Danger children.
We get to Ice Land, and as we park, Scott looks on approvingly. “I hope you know . . . I do know how to skate.”
I chuckle and take his offered elbow. “I have a suspicion there are a lot of things you can do.”
“How’d you find this place?” Scott asks as we approach. “It’s pretty far from your apartment.”
“After-school job in high school,” I supply. “And here we are.”
The first time for anyone in Ice Land is a little unique. Part ice arena, part restaurant, part . . . well, lots of different things. Ice Land was opened fifteen years ago by a former NHL referee who just loved the game. It’s got its own character.
We sit down, and Scott looks around. “You find unique places to work.”
“You’re telling me. But then again, I don’t work in the tallest building in town. So, which floor do they have you on? The top?”
Scott shakes his head, a tight smile on his face. “Not yet, but soon. Real soon.”
There’s obviously a story there, and I remember how stressed he was that first night at the bar. “So . . . how’re things with work? You seemed caught up with something that first night.”
Scott waves it away, seemingly not wanting to open up. “Oh, I was blowing off steam. Robbie had a few drinks, and I was talking out of my ass because I was frustrated about a deal not going through the way I expected. Well, I was frustrated until I got distracted by something much more interesting.”
Scott looks me up and down, his gaze burning my skin everywhere it touches, and I can feel the flush rushing to spread across the expanse of my chest and