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Not so tough when someone’s around to overhear your vile filth, are ya, buddy?
“Oh, hey, Rob!” he squeaks. “I, uh, didn’t see you back there. Yeah, Eva here is just…having some issues. I’m gonna help her out though, so it’s all good.”
I squint at him until recognition sets in. Tate Barnes. Another fucking sophomore. What is it with these guys? They’re like a plague on the female population of Ironville. His brother Trent is in my class and on the football team. He’s not nearly as much of an asshole as this little guy.
I lean down to whisper in his ear, “If you ever talk to her like that again, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
A loud bang followed by a shout of, “Fuck!” interrupts our little moment.
We both turn toward the commotion and find Evie sucking on her finger. Tate’s eyes widen even further, this time in arousal. The little punk is only thinking about his earlier proposition, not the fact she clearly hurt herself.
A loud crack of my knuckles brings him down a peg. I jerk my head to the side to indicate he should get lost before I make good on my earlier proposition. He’s smarter than he looks, because he doesn’t waste any time before retreating.
“What’s going on, Papageorgiou?” My voice is probably an octave too high, so I busy myself with looking under the hood.
Her glare burns the side of my already-heated face. I take a deep breath to focus on her problem and not her. Judging by the amount of corrosion on her ancient battery terminals, I’m gonna guess it won’t start.
“Does the engine turn over at all?”
“It just makes some sort of clicking sound.” She colors her answer with a hard voice.
Cutting my gaze to the side, I give her the once-over to make sure she didn’t hurt herself worse than I first assumed. That probably wasn’t my smartest idea because she’s still sucking on her finger, her blue eyes lasered in on the engine like she could will it to start with her superhuman mind power. Damn, but she looks good. Her hair’s a frizzy mess of tight curls that spill out of the bun on top of her head. She’s wearing her large, black-framed glasses today, which match her black Metallica tee. Her ripped jeans give off an edgy vibe that excites every nerve ending in my body.
Her drastic style change from girly to badass is the stuff wet dreams are made of.
Coupled with the rumors going around about her “magic mouth,” it’s no wonder half of my time at school is spent threatening the douche canoes who want a piece of her.
Fuck that shit.
I already suffered through her being with someone else for a few short weeks. Didn’t like it. Not about to let it happen again.
“Shit!” She kicks the old bumper with her Doc. “I’m supposed to be at work in fifteen minutes!”
“Well, you’ve got two choices.” After another deep breath, my voice comes out steadier than I feel. “I can bring my car over and try to give you a jump, but you’ll probably still have to get a ride home from the diner. And your battery’s so old there’s no guarantee that’ll work. Or I can just drive you over there now.”
She opens her mouth—no doubt to argue—but I cut her off before she can deny me this small chance.
“You’ll only be five minutes late instead of probably a half hour if I take you now.”
That did not come out at all the way I intended. A quick cough brings me back to my senses. Even after all of this time, this girl ties my tongue up and flash-freezes my brain. Keeping my internal filter in place is a very real struggle in her presence.
Her brows furrow, and she switches from sucking on her finger to chewing her thumbnail. Her unsure gaze falls on me only briefly before she scans the parking lot for a better option.
Come on, come on. Take a chance on me, Evie. I won’t let you down the way he did.
Normally, I’d give her all the time in the world to come to the obvious choice, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Sabrina approaching with purpose in her long strides.
She didn’t take real kindly to our horribly awkward make-out session after the only date we went on this past winter, and she’s been relentlessly pursuing me for a second chance ever since. The last thing anyone needs is for her to make a scene in the parking lot. Somehow, the girl has gotten it into her head that if we just try it again, we’ll have better results. I’m not about to tell her the only reason it didn’t go the way she had hoped the first time is because I couldn’t get my mind off the gorgeous woman beside me.
Every step Sabrina takes toward us ramps up my anxiety over the impending explosion until I can’t wait for an answer any longer.
“Tick tock. Pick your poison.” My prompt comes out a little too urgently, judging by Evie’s icy glare.
“Fine,” she huffs. “I don’t really have a choice.”
I slam the hood closed as she grabs her backpack out of the car. Without waiting to see if Evie follows, I make quick tracks to the other side of the parking lot, unlocking my Mustang with the fob. Am I avoiding the inevitable? Maybe. Will I keep running like a cowardly lion for as long as it takes until Sabrina moves on to another target? You bet your ass. How is it even possible for me to tell her the truth?
Yeah, sorry, Sabrina. It’s never gonna work out between us. I only used you as a distraction to get over the girl who broke my heart. Sorry about my lack of skill in the making out department, but you were my first kiss, first grope, first real date, and that thought makes me want to puke and/or punch something.
