Page 272
“I don’t know how. That thing was flat.”
“It must’ve been leaking for a while,” I tell her before closing her door, then rounding the front to my side, hoping she leaves it at that.
The moment I’m seated inside, she picks the conversation right back up with, “Really? My car didn’t say anything until this morning.”
Pulling away from the curb, I just say, “Technology.” It is weird though. As much as we want to depend on it, we never truly can.
Before we’re even clear of the parking lot, I reach over and take Kota’s hand, fitting my fingers through hers.
She stares down at our clasped hands.
“Is this okay?” I ask her even though I didn’t think I needed to. I’ve had my hands on every part of her body.
She looks up. “It’s fine.”
Her laugh doesn’t sound completely genuine and makes me frown. She also said “fine.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. I mean, no one can see us in here, so…” Instead of finishing that thought, she shrugs.
I know she doesn’t want her mom to find out about us but I already shoved my tongue down her throat in front of four of her peers. Dex and Tina are sworn to secrecy, and if Guy knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his mouth shut, too. But Lisann? That bitch loves to yap, especially about Kota. Word will get out eventually. If it hasn’t already.
Bringing the subject back to the tire thing, she says, “I can’t believe you found somewhere that only charged twenty-five dollars. I swear Guy paid twice that for a patch last time.”
Without even seeing her, I can tell she’s wincing. I’d prefer not hear that douche’s name leave her mouth ever again, but they do have history. It’s gonna happen. Unfortunately.
I clear my throat.
“They gave me a discount because I paid cash.”
“You did?”
She sounds way too impressed. Girl’s underwear probably cost more than that. According to her mom anyway, who gave me fifty dollars for a single thong.
I still need to acquire one of those, by the way.
Kota uses her free hand to type on her phone. Not a moment later, mine chimes.
Since both of my hands are currently busy, I ignore it.
“It’s just me.”
“Texting me?”
“Paying you back.”
Damn it.
“Why?”
“Because it’s my car.”
“Don’t listen to my dad.”
“He was right.”
The silence stretches until I can’t take it anymore. I’m done with this topic.
