He laughs out before he looks back at me again. “And who told you this?”
“A friend.”
“Oh, I see, a friend who was jealous.”
His reasoning makes me laugh again. “Nope, a friend who I’m pretty sure included himself in that list.”
His eyes furrow together as he contemplates what I just said, and who would put themselves on a list of terrible taste.
It puts an awkward vibe between us, as I just continue to eat my food in silence.
He does the halfway decent thing, and he walks me back to my car. The car that I shouldn’t have driven tonight because it just made me think about him the entire time I was heading here tonight.
“Where’s your car?” He asks me as we walk through the parking lot.
“There.” I point over to the BMW.
“That’s not the car you were driving earlier.”
“It’s not. I bought the other one for work, so I don’t ruin this one.”
He pauses as he sways from side to side, and then he looks back up at me. “Forgive me for being forward, Tate, but how does someone on your salary own a fucking beamer?”
“I’ll tell you, but it has to be off the record.” I lean into him, whispering, having just enough to drink that I’m willing to flirt with him.
He leans in, matching me.
“I’m actually a drug dealer.”
The irony is that it’s probably not that far from how I actually got the car.
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
“No?” I ask him, making him laugh out this time.
“If you were,” this time he leans in, “I would have definitely known everything about you before today.”
I’m not sure whether to laugh or be concerned. “Okay, fine. I helped a friend of mine’s sister. And in doing so, I totaled my car. This was his way of repaying me for what I did. I told him it was too much, but he wouldn’t take it back.” I sigh, looking back at the car. “I gave him the money that the insurance company sent me, though.”
“Which was how much?”
“A few thousand doesn’t matter, though. He never cashed the check.”
“I’m gathering this is the same friend who considers himself on the terrible man list.”
“Yup. That’s the one.”
He leans into me, pressing his mouth to mine and I pull away, quickly.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”
I can see the hostility on his face as he turns, without saying a word, and stomps back to his car, as if he was a child who had gotten their hand smacked.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to myself as I slide back into my car.
?
I’m surprised when a week later I’m leaving a scene and walking back to my car as I see Darren’s mustang pull up.
