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“She’s not my”—he hiccups—“girlfriend. But that is my car she left blocking the driveway. I’ve got to move it or my roommates will have my balls and hang them as a rearview mirror ornament when they can’t pull up to the garage.”
There’s an image I could do without. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He winces as if confused by what he just said. When we reach the car, he fumbles with the door handle before feeling his way into the driver’s seat like he’s not sure it will hold his weight. I have no idea how much partying he’s done tonight, but it’s obviously enough that I can’t, in good conscience, let him stay behind the wheel, even if it’s only to travel up the driveway. Call me overly cautious, but that’s how it is. I’ve gotten behind the wheel when I shouldn’t have, and I’m still not over it.
The driver’s side door hangs open, so I reach in and pluck out the keys before he can turn the ignition on.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“I don’t think you should be driving. I’ll give these back to you tomorrow.” I could move his car for him, but I don’t want to chance leaving him his keys after I do so. To avoid any argument, I hurry away.
He stumbles over the smooth sidewalk, trying to keep up with my quick strides. I look up and notice his face is pale. Shit. I hope he’s not going to be sick. I slow my pace as music blares from his house again.
“Can you slow down, speed racer?”
His uncommon label gets me to stop in my tracks, happy memories pushing aside my haste. “I love that movie,” I say, risking coming off as a dork. I was the only one of my friends wowed by the live action film, but whatever.
He smiles. “Me, too. My friends called me Mach 5 when I was younger.”
“Because you drove fast?” I am really glad I took away his keys.
“Ran fast.”
“From girls?” Snowflake tugs on her leash, signaling I need to stop conversing and get us tucked into bed.
“Why would I do that?” he asks in a flirty tone.
Right. Silly me. “I’ll return your keys tomorrow,” I repeat, closing the distance to home. I contemplate throwing the keys in the rose bushes around the perimeter of my aunt’s front yard so he’ll leave me alone, but I can’t do it. I’d hate to see any thorns leave even the tiniest scratch on him.
He follows me up the walkway, his uneven gait about as far from a runway model’s as you can get, but he still manages to tap my shoulder. “Why?” he says.
I stop a few feet from the front door. “Why what?”
He looks down at me with verdant eyes full of uncertainty. He’s not sure what to make of me. I’m not sure what to make of him, either. Then he closes the short distance between us. He’s not so stable, and his chest brushes mine. “Why do you care?” he asks softly.
I’m afraid if I step back he’ll lose his balance and fall, so I hold my ground. It’s not easy. I’m nervous. Not that he’ll hurt me. That he’ll kiss me. Which is crazy with a side of never-going-to-happen. My imagination hasn’t run this wild in a long time.
“I don’t care about you,” I lie. I’ve known him all of five minutes but don’t want to see anything bad happen to him. “I mean, I don’t care care.” What am I spewing? This is what happens when exhaustion hits. Long travel day equals verbal nonsense. “I care about people in general, and it seems like you’ve had a rough night.”
His long dark eyelashes sweep down and stay there, and for a second, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep on his feet. I clear my throat.
“People don’t usually give a shit about anyone but themselves in this town.” He’s studying me now, like I’m something rare. I both like and hate it. I don’t deserve the pedestal I think he’s just put me on.
I put my hands on his upper arms to steady him and take a step back. “I’m not from around here.” The space between our bodies is cold, but relief fills me all the same. “Go home, Vaughn. Get some sleep.” I give him a small smile before turning around. “Good night.” I open the front door. Snow sits patiently while I take off her leash and then she bounds inside.
“Wait. I know this is asking a lot, but…would it be okay if I hang here for a while? Someone’s spoiling for a fight and I really don’t want to deal with it tonight.”
Snow puts on the breaks, the pitter-patter of her paws on the hardwood coming to a quick halt. She spins around and I swear she nods her approval along with a wag of her tail.
Okay then. Looks like we’ve got a guest. I’ve no idea what Vaughn’s story is, but right now it seems like he needs a safe place to rest and, given he’s friendly with my aunt (not to mention Snowflake), I’m willing to provide it.
Until a Nine Inch Nails song practically shakes the foundation. I am never going to get to sleep tonight. Before I can say, “Do you think someone could turn the music down?” he lifts his finger in the universal show of hang on a minute and pulls his cell from the pocket of his light blue jeans. I’m impressed when his fingers type a text with ease. Seconds later, the music stops.
The grin he gives me could win an Academy Award. “Done.”
Okay, guess we’re on the same wavelength. I spin around and wave for him to follow. The light is on in the kitchen and, as I round
the corner of the breakfast bar, I discreetly drop his keys into a drawer, closing it quickly so he doesn’t notice.
“So you’re one of the nieces,” he says.
