“This yours?” I asked as he opened the door and I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Whose else would it be?” he asked, walking around to his side and sliding in.
The cleanliness of his car struck me immediately. I turned in my seat to look at the back, but there was no crumpled-up clothes or trash in site. It even smelled good in here. Like pine trees or something.
“Clean,” I said, not even trying to hide how impressed I was.
“I like to keep things tidy,” he said, buckling his seat belt. “I used to live with my best friend, Harrison, who is a total neat freak. Broke any of my messy habits right out of me.”
“That’s good,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything more clever.
Oliver reached between us for the gear shift, and I stared his hand as he put it in drive. Was it weird that I found his hands attractive? As he put them both on the bottom of the steering wheel and I watched as they engulfed it, I realized that weird or not, I definitely found them attractive.
I tore my gaze away and stared out the window at the dark street. Why Oliver had chosen an activity that started before sunrise was beyond me, but I couldn’t deny that there wassomething a little thrilling about being out here with him before the town stirred.
“So, this is the car,” Oliver said, tapping the steering wheel. “I know you thought I was making it up, but here she is in all her glory.”
“Exactly the type of car I pictured you in.” It was one of those off-road SUVs that, while in great shape, was clearly at least a decade old.
Oliver laughed and snapped his gaze to mine before returning it to the road. “Hey, now. In your own words, you pictured me both houseless and unable to acquire a car.”
My cheeks burned at the reminder. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled.
Oliver seemed to sense my discomfort because he hit the power button on the center console. “You can control the music,” he said, turning his head both directions at the stop sign before making a left turn and exiting Main Street.
Instead of looking for an aux cord or a Bluetooth connection, I went for the FM button and hit search until I found the least fuzzy station.
“A radio girl?” Oliver asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m surprised. I would have thought you’d have some carefully curated playlist to go along with every occasion.”
Normally he’d be correct. But I was far too self-conscious to share any music with Oliver right now. The radio was safe. Neither of us picked it. I didn’t spend hours thinking of the perfect song only to risk Oliver not liking it or pressing “skip” without a second thought. No. That was far too risky.
“I like the radio,” I said, as the next song began—an old, cheesy country ballad I never would’ve chosen if given the option.
Oliver merged onto the highway and shifted lanes. There was almost no one else on the road.
“How far is this mystery place?” I asked, turning the heaters so that they weren’t blasting directly on me. My outfit was causing me to overheat slightly. When I’d asked Oliver what I should wear, his only response was, “Something that’s comfortable, warm, and that you can move in.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, and it had me a little nervous for whatever awaited us.
“It’s not far,” Oliver said with a wink. He was clearly loving this air of mystery that shrouded the morning. “Any way I could convince you to give me a sip of that?” he asked, nodding toward my to-go coffee mug.
“Oh, sure.” I nearly flung the mug at him, but thankfully I caught myself and handed it to him with some semblance of grace.
He smiled, unfazed as usual, and took a long sip. “Ahh.” He smacked his lips and handed it back to me. “Needed that. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Same,” I said. My eyes widened at the admittance. We both looked at each other, but he tore his gaze away first.
His words lingered in the air as a small explosion of fireworks went off in my gut. Had he struggled to sleep for the same reason I had? Was he nervous about today too? The thought made me want to slap myself for being so foolish—of course, Oliver wasn’t nervous. Just look at him. The guy hadn’t been nervous a day in his life. I was teetering on the edge of complete delusion, and I needed to snap out of it.
I couldn’t sit in the silence any longer. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable—the opposite actually. It was almosttoocomfortable.
“How long have you had this car?” I asked, cringing at the lame question. He was going to think I had absolutely zero social skills.
Oliver let out a low chuckle. “You’re really interested in my car, aren’t you?”
“And your house,” I added.
“Are you sizing up my assets? Trying to determine if I could be a good provider?”
The fireworks were now full-on blasting. It was a whole display.
