upward. “Talk.”
Her breathing almost stops as she stares up at me with those wild eyes I first saw six months ago. Her hand falls away from her lips, and our gazes lock. “I don’t know how I’m going to get home or back to my car tomorrow. I haven’t made too many friends since I moved here. At least not any I can call for something like this.”
“Well, you got me or Uber.”
“I can’t Uber,” she whispers, her gaze still locked with mine. “They’re not safe.”
“They’re safe, Arlo, but you still got me,” I tell her, but I like the idea that she doesn’t feel comfortable riding in a car with a random stranger. I’d much rather have her fine ass on the back of my bike, even if it’s just for a few rides. She’s cute as hell and quirky as shit, reminding me of half the crazy women in my family. “I’ll bring you home and pick you up tomorrow to take you to Mammoth’s garage.”
“Why?” She blinks.
“Why what?”
She furrows her eyebrows. “Why would you help me?”
“Are you suspicious of everyone?” I ask her, loosening my hold on her chin but still keeping my hand there.
She stays silent.
What would cause someone to be afraid of almost everything? She seems strong, but there’s something about her that causes her to pause or see the worst in almost everything.
“Because I’m nice and don’t like to see a woman in trouble.”
Her response is to stare at me, blinking and confused. “But what do you want out of it? I’m not sleeping with you,” she says softly.
Normally, I’d lean forward a little, trying to lure her in, but I don’t know this chick—and from the little bit I do, she wouldn’t dig it. I’m not the type of man who pushes my way into and onto people, especially not scared little creatures like Arlo.
“If I wanted pussy, I’d go on my way to the one waiting for me. I’m not here to get you into bed, babe. I’m here to help, which is what I’m offering and not my cock.”
She blinks a few times, all in rapid succession. “Well, I…”
“So, you want a ride or not?”
She stares at me for a second, her eyes searching mine as I do the same. “Yes,” she whispers, and I drop my hand.
“Good. Fuck, you’re difficult. Was that really that hard?”
She crosses her arms, guarding herself from me or the entire conversation. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Why do you always say you can do shit yourself and you’ve been alone your entire life?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “Just have.”
“You’re alone?”
She unfolds her arms, spreading them wide and looking cute as fuck, along with a bit crazy. “See anyone else around here?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Babe, by your logic, I’m alone too. See anyone around here for me?”
“Well, no, but you had a Mammoth to call.”
“I’m sure you have a Mammoth of your own even if they don’t have a garage.”
“Nope,” she clips. “Just me, myself, and I, baby.”
I tilt my head, crossing my arms, and stare at her. “You forgetting something or maybe someone?”
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
I point at my face. “Me. I’m here.”
“You don’t count,” she tells me before she starts pacing in front of her Mustang again. “You’re a passerby.”
“I’m more than a passerby. This is twice I’ve saved you.”
“I don’t need saving.”
“Fine. I helped,” I argue, but damn, she’s saucy, a little bitchy, and filled with so much attitude. Her eyes slice to me, and I can’t stop a smile from hanging on my lips. “You always this difficult?”
“Are you always this nice?”
“No,” I grunt.
“Then, no, I’m not always this difficult.”
“Doubtful.”
“You can go,” she dismisses me, wearing a path in the gravel on the side of the road. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure you have better shit to do than stand here with me and wait for a tow.”
I reach out and snag her arm, halting her movement because the woman needs to stop for half a second. “Babe.”
She turns, all forward momentum gone, but doesn’t pull away from my grip.
“If I wanted to be anywhere else, I’d be there. I’m not driving away, leaving you out here in the dark to wait for a tow alone. I have nowhere important to be, but if I wanted to be there, I’d be there. And if you meet a man who’s willing to drive away, deserting you on the side of the road, then they aren’t any man worth knowing. And once the