up,” I grumbled, annoyance coating my tone.
Smith burst out laughing, the sound deep and thick, sending heat and annoyance up my neck.
“You really haven’t changed, have you?”
“What do you mean?” He opened his arms, motioning to himself. “You don’t think I’ve changed since you last saw me?”
“More muscles, but fewer brain cells.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Little premature to judge me so early on.”
“You forget I knew you. Was the only one who seemed to see through your bullshit.”
“You didn’t like me very much.”
“Still don’t.”
Instead of reacting like a normal person when insulted, he chuckled, his eyes igniting with life.
“All I was going to say was I think you’re perfectly normal, Baby K. Most people don’t have a clue what they’re going to do right out of college. Your brother and sister are the abnormal ones. Do you know how many people actually use the degree they went to school for? Not even thirty percent.” He rubbed a hand through his silky, dark hair, his attention going to the flat desert passing the window. “Why I didn’t bother. I always knew college wasn’t for me.”
I remembered he graduated because the football team didn’t want to lose him, which I found appalling. He never struck me as someone even remotely dumb. Actually, sometimes he would come out with a quote from a book when I’d ask if he knew what a book even was. He almost flunked out because he couldn’t give enough of a shit to attend classes.
“So, if not college, what have you been doing these past nine years.”
A slow, naughty smile curved his mouth, his attention still out the window. “Living.”
“Could you narrow it down?” I rolled my eyes. “What do you do for work?”
“Do you want to know what I do for money, or what I do that makes me happy?” He grinned at me, evading the question.
“So… prostitution then.”
A choked laugh snapped up his throat, his head tipping back. “Then I would be making money doing something I loved and am very good at.”
“Oh my god, will you just answer the question?” I exhaled, hitting the steering wheel.
“Will what I do tell you about me? Will you have me all figured out?”
“You know what? Forget it. Don’t answer. Actually, don’t talk unless it’s to tell me which airport to drop your ass off at.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
A low grumble hummed from my throat, focusing on the road, the heat pounding off the pavement in blurry waves in the late-afternoon sun. Picking him up set me back almost three hours.
“Construction. In Santa Monica,” he finally said, staring out. “But recently moved to Hermosa Beach.”
“Santa Monica and Hermosa?” I lifted my eyebrows. I had been in the area once for a weekend. Sadie and I drove up, staying in some low-budget hotel because it was so expensive around there. The boardwalk and promenade were fine, a check off my list of places to see. We drove through Hermosa and Redondo on our way home. It was beautiful along the coast and so were the people, but the whole celebrity/film world wasn’t really my thing. Everything felt so fake, shallow, and plastic. Probably why he loved it. An endless collection of models and actresses. “Strange we had only been a few hours from each other and didn’t know it.”
“What would you have done? Come visit me?” He turned his body to me, his head tilting. “Ventured out of your little controlled world and had a drink in a dive bar with a guy you hated growing up?”
“Controlled world?” My lids narrowed, glaring at him. “You don’t know me.”
“And you don’t know me,” he countered, glowering back. “But tell me I’m wrong, that you don’t have an app on your phone marking every site, every stop, like a bland, cliché travel book? Displaying all the typical sites you are supposed to stop and see on a road trip, but deep down you don’t give a shit about seeing half of it. Tell me, the largest ball of twine is on your list, isn’t it?”
“Fuck you.”
“If it will dislodge the stick up your ass.”
“Oh my god.” I yanked the wheel to the side of the road, popping us in our seats like corn kernels, dirt billowing around us as I came to skidding stop, Goat sliding off the bed. He got on his feet, his tail wagging, moving up between the two front seats.
“Get out!” I pointed at the passenger door, glaring at Smith.
He stared back at me, emotionless, his hand absently