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8
Evie
When we get to the lake, the first thing Grady does is pull his Jeep to the front of my truck so he can give my battery a jump. I’m hoping my problem was just my battery, but I can’t be sure until we try it. He hooks up the cables and motions for me to give it a few minutes before we try to start my truck. But I’m still stuck back at the diner, when he acted so strange. Grady has never gotten close enough to breathe on me, much less kiss my cheek. I press my fingers to the area again, still feeling his lips there on me.
“I told you that I don’t have cooties,” he says as he rolls his eyes, when he sees me touching my face.
“Oh, you totally have cooties,” I reply. “You’ve always had cooties and you will always have cooties, you cootie monster.” He looks toward the kiss spot, the place where his lips had touched my cheek. “You got Grady cooties all over me. I can feel them crawling on me.” I scrub with my fingertips at the spot. “What’d you have to go and do that for, anyway? Anybody could have seen you.”
Then my phone pings in my pocket. I pull it out and stare at the screen. Oh shit. It’s Barbara-Claire.
Bee-Cee: I heard you were standing in the parking lot at the diner with Grady’s tongue down your throat, while he fucked you against his Jeep, while the waitresses watched you two out the big window at the front of the diner.
I let out an involuntary snort, and I instantly cover my mouth when I realize it.
“What’s funny?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I reply, as I frantically type a message back.
Me: Lies. All lies.
Bee-Cee: Then what happened?
Me: Nothing really. We had lunch.
I look up at Grady. “I need to pay you for my lunch,” I say. “I totally didn’t even think about it when we left the restaurant.”
“You can go back and wash some dishes,” he says. “I only paid for mine.”
“You suck so bad, Grady Parker.”
He nods toward my phone. “Who was that?”
“Barbara-Claire.” I tuck my phone back into my pocket. “How much was my half of lunch?”
“It was dinner, and don’t bring it up again.” He messes with some wires under my hood.
“I’ll bring up anything I want to bring up.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he bites out playfully. “Then I will feel free to ignore your question.”
“Like you ever pay attention to my questions anyway,” I mutter.
“I pay attention to everything you say, Clifford,” he tells me. “Ask me anything. I know everything there is to know about you, except your sexual dating history because that would be gross.”
That digs a little, and I scowl at him. “You think sex with me would be gross?”
He winces. “No, sex with you would not be gross. Sex with you would be explosive. But thinking about you having sex with anybody else, that would be gross. I’m not going to do it, so don’t ask me to.” He meets my gaze finally. “Don’t like to think about it, to be honest.” He looks down at my engine and seems to be satisfied. “What did Bee-Cee want?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
“You’re a lying liar. What did Bee-Cee want?” he asks again. He stares at me. Hard.
“She said…she heard that we were in the parking lot kissing while you fucked me against the side of your Jeep. And that baby waitress with the crush on you was watching the whole thing.”
Grady trips over his own foot as he tries to turn around. He has to catch himself on the front of my truck. “What?”
My phone pings again.
