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Chapter Twenty-Seven
SUMMER
“You’ve been driving this for how long?” Dash’s question drifts over from his place under my car’s hood.
Defensiveness has me answering in a harsher tone than I normally use. “Since college. And I’ll have you know, she only lets me down once, maybe twice a week!”
“There are cars out there that only let people down once, maybe twice a year.”
“There are also grand mansions with swimming pools. Just because something exists doesn’t mean it’s within my price range.”
The guy throws a smile over his shoulder at me. “I get that.”
My brief spurt of affront drifts away, especially when I remind myself that Dash is giving me a deal.
After hanging out with Cole’s friend and realizing Dash was the mechanic he’s been pushing me to go see, I finally gave in. The decision became easier when I was stuck between two man-spreaders on the bus during my commute to work yesterday. I’d rather not have to deal with that nonsense if I don’t have to. Paying to get my car towed to Dash’s shop hurt, but I know when my Volkswagen is up and running again, I’ll have slightly less stress in my life, and that might make the spending worth it.
Plus, I’ve decided to use this time to gain some insider knowledge on Cole. Since I’m allowed to hang out in the shop with Dash while he works, I assume he doesn’t mind if I throw a few questions at him.
“Are you and Cole pretty close?”
“Sure.” He doesn’t tell me to be quiet because he needs to concentrate, so I push a little more.
“How close?”
“You asking if we fucked?”
“What?” I have to grab my stool to keep from falling off. “Why would—I don’t…”
Shoot. Now I want to know.
“Did you?”
“Would it be a problem if we had?”
I think about it. Cole with Dash. In a bed. Doing naughty things.
Then my face explodes with a wild blush because that image doesn’t necessarily bring up only jealous feelings.
“Maybe if you’re still doing it. I don’t like being involved with someone when they’re sleeping with someone else.”
Dash nods. “Paige is the only one for me. Cole and I never did anything. But he’s been with guys. Not lately, though, I don’t think. Should probably talk about that with him if it’s a problem.”
Guys aren’t a problem. But that huge word hovering over this conversation is.
Exclusive.
Synonymous with monogamous. Which I equate to relationship.
Then we arrive at serious.
And I cannot be serious about Cole.
I skirt around this turn I didn’t expect, bringing us back to my original question.
“What I meant to ask was are you close friends or just casual hang-out buddies? Like…do you trust Cole? Is he a decent guy?”
Maybe this is just hooking up, but I still don’t want to share my bed with a total dick. I just want one part of him to be a dick.
