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“Sure, I am,” she laughed but I was too mellow to bristle at her disbelief.
She slid off me and I groaned in protest, despite the necessity.
“No lies, Barlow. Scout’s honour. You’re the only girl I’ve done in my car, on my car, against my car… Really, anything to do with my car.”
“You weren’t in the Scouts,” she reminded me pointedly.
“It’s a figure of speech, Barlow,” I reminded her right back as I hauled arse into the driver’s seat.
She settled in her seat until she caught sight of her neck in the mirror.
“You gave me a hicky!” she accused, all shocked.
I snorted. “Yeah, my bad.”
“You…” she grumbled and pulled a scarf out of her bag. “Just be lucky it’s still cold enough for this.”
I actually snorted again and started the car. “You love it.”
She tried to hide her smile for me by looking out the window, but I saw.
She did love it.
And I loved that she loved it.
“That reminds me, we should swap numbers,” I told her as we headed to school.
“Reminds you? How does that remind you?” she asked. “You need a way to booty call me?”
I threw her a shit-eating grin. “After that performance? I’ll be desperate, love, but you’re totally in charge.”
She laughed. “You liked it that much?”
I nodded. “Oh, I liked it that much.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Go on, number.”
“Now who’s bossy?” she sassed.
“Oh, it’s still you,” I told her, and she smiled.
