"Two, Owen has the Nova and should be on his way. He can handle the office. And three, I'm pulling into The Coop. I'll grab lunch if you stop your bitching."
"Screw you," Frey says before his words become loud and muffled. I decipher his saying Finn's name and Coop.
I pull the Chevelle into an empty parking spot and wait for whatever conversation the twins are having to end. Beside me, Jess finishes weaving her hair into a braid. I stare at her bare neck, no longer flushed from the heat, while she secures a band around the end. She has the most perfect vein, faint blue and raised, and begging to be licked. It'll happen. After our moment outside Ricky's house, I'm resigned to it. Hell, I was ready after spotting her at Bleachers.
Like she reads my mind, she undoes her seatbelt and shifts about. I avert my eyes to her lap as she faces me. She's caught my stare too many times during our two meetings. Yes, I'm hell-bent on having her body beneath mine, but there's no need to tip my hat. Her fingers play with my shirt. One nail drawing a figure-eight over and over.
A lifetime goes by before Frey curses at his brother and shouts in my ear. "Okay, get extra sauce"—he pauses as Finn bellows in the background— "and extra toast. See ya in thirty."
The line goes silent before I can argue. It would take twenty minutes to order, wait, and drive to the garage, eating lunch with Jess adds to that. Unless I hurry with their food, the twins will piss the hell out of me for the remainder of the day. Shit.
"Someone hangry?" Jess asks, her gaze on my cell.
"Want to deliver lunch to a couple of pricks and check out where I work?"
Jess
This is likely a bad idea.
And it's a little late to speak up while Carter is driving around the one-story garage he works at, and I'm balancing a tray of four large drinks on my lap and two large bags of food at my feet. When he asked if I wanted to make a lunch delivery and see the shop, it seemed like a fun thing. The hurt from my argument with Dad has lessened, but I'm not ready to return. Today is a good day to ignore reality. I have the day off and pretending like I'm a normal college girl home for summer vacation sounds nice. I want to be reckless. Twenty-one. Goodbye, adult Jess. Goodbye, caretaker.
"I can run their food in, and we can go somewhere different if you prefer."
I break out of my daze.
We're parked. The engine is quiet, and Carter's door is propped open. He twists toward me, his forearm resting on top of the wide steering wheel and his right arm stretched behind me, his hand braced against the back of my seat. In another circumstance, I would lean into him, and we'd kiss because that's the pose he's making. His gaze darts over my face and the muscle in his jaw leaps. He looks ready to take me down—in a good way. And I'm sitting frozen and fixated on the mess of my life.
"I'm sorry, I zoned out." I steal a look out the window at the garage. "This is perfect. You want to carry the drinks?"
His stunning eyes scrutinize me for a full minute, his head canting in the same way Jules's or Katie’s does when they're deciding if I'm lying.
"Promise, Carter." I lift the carrier from my thighs so he'll grab it. "I'm good."
"If you want to leave, you say the word." He grasps the carrier handle and grabs the fifth drink from the cup holder in the console. "Okay?"
His concern for my wellbeing is endearing. I agree, though, I have no intention of asking him for a ride home any time soon. I climb over the food at my feet and elect to leave my phone on the seat. Grabbing the bags, I use my hip to close the passenger door. Arms laden with food, I stand rooted and draw a deep breath. Three cheers for Carter's tee-shirt, which I slipped on while we waited for the food. I spent years walking about in revealing cheerleading uniforms, and I flaunt my stuff at Bleachers every shift, but I prefer cute dresses and clothes with coverage. Finn and Frey, while sweet, are flirts, and my walking into their garage with a sports bra