I give Colton any more ammunition to use against me.
I place my bag down on my lap, not wanting it to dirty the floor of the car and then reach for my seatbelt, assuming that Colton is a shitty, reckless driver.
The door closes automatically and I think I come a little while studying the black interior and the orange trim that flows throughout the whole car.
It’s simply stunning.
My seatbelt has hardly clicked into place before Colton hits the gas and I feel my soul leave my body. The engine rumbles through the car and I feel it beneath my seat, doing all sorts of yummy things. Is it wrong to be so turned on right now?
I adjust myself in my seat and don’t miss the way Colton’s lips curve into a slight smirk. That smirk is enough to have me twisting myself so I’m mostly facing out the window, not wanting his presence in the driver’s seat to ruin this joyride for me.
Apart from the sound of the engine, there’s absolute silence. No shitty conversation, no insults, no comments about me being the help. Nothing, and for once I’m actually happy to be here. I have no doubt that could change in only a matter of seconds.
Colton drives like some kind of professional. He’s fast, smooth, and effortless and I hate myself for being so attracted to it. In fact, it makes me hate him more. What is it about the way that men handle cars that’s so damn attractive?
He pulls up out the front of the school and it takes me all of two seconds to notice that something isn’t right.
“Wait,” I say, realizing that Colton isn’t making a move to cut the engine and get out. Shouldn’t he have stopped in some kind of underground, guarded student parking lot for rich kids? “This is wrong … all those girls. They're not in the same uniform.”
“I can see that,” he says, watching the girls pour in through the front gates and looking somewhat confused.
“Where are all the guys? It’s just chicks.”
“Because it’s a girls' school. You didn’t know that?”
“How would I have known that? I don’t exactly spend my days googling schools. Why do I have a different uniform? I’m going to look like a fucking idiot.”
“You don’t need a uniform to do that, Jade. You’re already there.”
“Fuck you, Carrington,” I say, looking back at him, only as I do, my eyes scan over the massive sign stating that this is Bellevue Springs Private School. “You brought me to the wrong school, dickwad. I’m enrolled at BSA.”
Colton’s face scrunches up and his eyes flick down to my uniform as if finally realizing that it matches his. “Bullshit. Dad did not enroll you at my school.”
I roll my eyes and look back out the window. “Apparently, he did.”
“Suit yourself,” Colton groans before hitting the gas and leaving Bellevue Springs Private in our dust. He flies down the road and within the space of sixty seconds, he pulls into the parking lot of BSA.
Damn. We’re here.
The parking lot is filled to the brim with Aston Martins, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis, though none quite with a price tag to compare against the Veneno’s. These are the kind of cars you’d expect to see in a Fast and Furious movie, locked up in an Abu Dhabi penthouse. My dad was a car guy and taught me everything he knew. It was his dream to be able to have cars like this and because of that, the dream rubbed off on me.
This parking lot is as close to heaven as me or my dad would ever have gotten.
Colton parks in a designated spot right near the front and I roll my eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if he’s the shining star here. He probably has all his teachers in his back pocket. All the girls probably drool over him and the guys, I bet they all want to be his best friend. It’s amazing what being the son of a billionaire can do for you.
Colton gets out and starts making his way up to the front gates of Bellevue Springs Academy while I peel myself out of his car. The second my feet hit the ground, the scissor doors start moving back into place and I have to give it to the guy, at least he waited until I was out to start closing the doors.
I hear the subtle beep of the car locking and with no other choice, I start making my way up