so close, I feel the vibration against my side. “I’ll follow you, so if you have car trouble, you can ride with me.”
His lips slip, his smile dimming as he shifts, the weight of his arm disappearing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He pulls in a breath, his gaze on the horizon. “Nothing.”
I reach forward to shove him again but stop, remembering his injury. Instead, my hand falls softly on his chest in a gesture that has us both looking at where I’m touching him. “You’re a bad liar, in case there was any question,” I say, tipping my head up to see him staring at me.
Arlo shakes his head. “Stupid pride shit.”
“Pride over what?” I ask, casually pulling my hand back.
“You having to follow me in case I break down on the side of the road.”
“Oh my gosh, if that’s where pride was born, I wouldn’t have any pride left because my first car was twenty years old, and the driver’s door wouldn’t open. I literally had to get in and out of my car through the passenger side.”
His face breaks with laughter. “What?”
I nod. “Yes. And the hood was completely rusted, and the back passenger door was a different color. And that car stranded me a dozen times in the first year—probably closer to two dozen. Trust me when I say a check engine light is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed over.”
“You upgraded,” he says.
I glance at my Prius that has a temperature setting and automatic locks and a key fob that doesn’t require me to insert a key. “Can you believe it was my graduation gift? Like, who gets their kid a new car for graduation?”
“Money isn’t an enemy. Hell, my parents would have bought me a brand-new truck when I graduated if they could’ve afforded it.”
I scoff. “I know. My mom would’ve done the same. It’s just, the value of money is so convoluted, you know? So many associate those who have money as working the hardest. My dad’s always had more than enough, and my mom never had enough, and she was always working while he went on elaborate vacations and cruises.”
Without me. The words nearly fall from my lips, but I swallow them. I didn’t care about going, so it made no difference that I was never invited—at least that’s what I tell myself.
“When we get to the apartment, you can park in my spot: A-twenty-three. That way, you’ll be right in front of the apartment, so Dominic can look at your car. I already texted him, and he said it won’t be any problem.”
“Tex, you’re the best.”
“Oh my gosh, you can’t call me that. You wore me down on Liv, but Tex? I refuse.”
He laughs wickedly. “Get in your car, Liv.”
I roll my eyes at him before turning to get into my car. I slip inside, my door nearly shut, when he calls, “Drive safe, Tex.”
I honk at him, making him jump and turn to face me with accusation in his eyes. I wave sweetly, trying to hide my laughter for about two seconds before belting out giggles. I point to his SUV, ushering him to hurry up.
I learn two things on our drive to my apartment: 1) Arlo drives like a maniac—he must have been holding back the other times I’ve been in his car—and 2) I may never risk going to New Jersey in case they all drive like he does.
“Glad you made it, grandma,” he says from where he’s leaning against the hood of his car in my parking spot. “I’ve been here for like twenty minutes, waiting for you.”
“Five. Tops. And you’re insane.”
“What?”
“You’re literally the most aggressive driver I’ve ever seen.”
He bows.
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
He cracks a grin, his expression lighter—playful. “Clearly, you haven’t driven to the eastern side of the state and into Idaho.”
“I don’t think you can call anyone out for being a bad driver. You’d be left with an awful lot of glass cuts from throwing stones.”
He laughs. “You’ve just been riding horses for too long.”
“Horses?” I scoff again. “Before I renege on my offer for Dominic to look at your SUV, let me go get him so you’ll be okay to drive home.”
I walk toward the apartment that sits opposite of us and knock once before Dominic opens the door. “Hey, Olivia,” he says. “How are you doing?” He impersonates having a heavy Southern twang, something many have done since I moved to Washington.
I’ve grown tired of acknowledging it.
“Hey, Dominic. My friend’s here if now’s a good