Giddy nervousness sizzles down my spine as I spy him leaning against his motorcycle. He has on his same heavy, dirt-stained boots and thick commando-style trousers. Under his Scorpions leather jacket is a tight-fitting gray T-shirt, which makes it easy to spy the pendant on the silver chain around his neck.
“I was surprised you wanted to see me again so soon,” Dax says, looking me up and down. “To be honest, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Why’s that?”
Dax smirks. “I figured one night of rebellion would’ve filled your rich girl quota.”
My mood sinks. “You really think I was just using you?”
Dax’s body language eases. “No. I just still don’t understand why you want anything to do with me.” He pulls himself off the bike. “You do realize you’re too good for me, right?”
A twinge of nerves jabs me. “No, I don’t. All I’ve had is therightguys in my life, and they’ve always felt wrong.”
Dax steps closer, causing me to look up and into his eyes. “And you think the bad boy is gonna make everything right?”
I smile as butterflies turn my insides to goo. “Labels aren’t everything.”
“Oh, that I’m learning, Sassy.”
I clasp my hands in front, feeling a swirl of excitement. I lift onto the balls of my feet and lean my body toward him. Dax’s smile doesn’t wane, and he scratches the underside of his chin. As the silence brews between us, a surge of electricity pulses through me.
Dax pulls a silver flask from the inside pocket of his jacket. The sight of it makes me freeze. He unscrews the cap and chugs the contents. He smiles at me with ballooned cheeks and then turns to the side and spits green liquid.
Something sour lines the back of my throat, causing me to grimace.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans in with puckered lips.
I raise my hands and step backwards, repulsed. “Eww. What do you think you’re doing?”
Dax laughs, pulling back. “What?” He lifts the flask. “I thought I’d freshen my breath, so you wouldn’t taste cigarettes.”
I wince. “So you thought you’d spit in front of me?”
Dax blows out a breath and rolls his eyes. “Oh man, lighten up. I was trying to do something nice for you.”
I frown, suppressing the need to gag.
“Nice.” He smirks. “You look completely grossed out.”
I shrug, mumbling, “Can you blame me?”
Dax laughs. “Okay, maybe I’m not what you’d call tactful.”
“Not in the slightest. I mean, you could’ve used mouthwash before we met up. Was it that hard not to smoke right before you saw me?”
Dax shrugs, leaning against his bike and wearing that devilish grin. “What can I say? You got me nervous, Sassy.”
My mind ticks back to the note Dr. Harris wrote in Dax’s file about emotional stress being a possible cause for his condition.
“Do you often smoke because you’re nervous?” I ask sheepishly.
Dax crosses his arms and shifts his weight. “Yeah, you’re making me want to light up again.”
I place a hand on one of his folded arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as harsh or judgmental. It’s just been a rough morning.”
Dax unfolds his arms, standing taller. “Oh, right, your dad. How’d that go down?”
I shrug. “It didn’t. He left for the office because he didn’t notice I wasn’t at home.”
