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That’s not her real name, but that’s what I like to call her. Fiery red hair with legs for days. She’s at least four inches taller than me. In the heels she’s rocking tonight, maybe six or seven inches. Her breasts are about to pop out of her shirt, per usual, and her shorts leave little to the imagination.
Two weeks ago, she showed up at the first football game of the season. We all noticed her, it was hard not to. After the game, I caught them talking outside the locker room. When I asked Josh about it, he brushed it off. Tonight, I’m having a hard time believing there wasn’t more going on back then. When she climbs into the cab of his truck, I don’t have to wonder anymore.
“I won’t be calling this time, Chloe,” Josh says, driving the knife in my back a little deeper.
In shock, I stare as he pulls out of the parking lot, a line of trucks behind him. His cavalry. They’re all probably headed to the lake to celebrate the big win tonight.
Well, fuck him. I don’t need him. I’ve never needed him. He was more for show than anything. My father liked him. He comes from a respectable family. If they only knew what their son was really like.
“Garrett’s Auto,” an unfamiliar voice says after only one ring.
“Hi. I’m at Fairview Academy, in the parking lot closest to the football field, and my car won’t start. I think my battery is dead,” I explain quickly, looking behind me when I hear a twig snap.
The lot is empty, my car the only vehicle left. My mind begins to race at the thought of someone sneaking up on me.
“Sure thing, Miss. I’ll head out there right now.”
“Thank you,” I reply as I climb into my car and lock the doors. “I’m the only car in the parking lot so you can’t miss me.”
When the lights of the tow truck finally come into sight, I step out of the car and wave my hands over my head. I probably look like a crazy person, but it’s been twenty minutes of heart-pounding silence, frequently interrupted by freaky sounds that I couldn’t identify. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.
He pulls the truck directly in front of my car, temporarily blinding me. I hear the slam of the door and walk over to meet him, keeping my hand shielded over my eyes.
“Thanks so—” My words escape me as he steps in front of the lights and I get a good look at him.
At least six inches taller than my tiny five-foot-five-inch frame, it seems like he towers over me. If I thought Josh had a fit body, his looks to be made of steel. The way his shirt hugs each muscle has my mind headed into dangerous territory.
If he looks this good with his clothes on… hmmm. Damn. Even sexy isn’t an accurate way to describe him. Sinful, maybe? Delicious, definitely.
His hair is dark, brown or black but I can’t tell with the glow of the headlights. I wish I could see his eyes. I feel them watching me, checking me out the same way I’m checking him out. I hope he likes what he sees as much as I like what I see.
What surprises me most is the fact that he’s my age, maybe a little older.
“Hey,” he replies.
Even his voice is sexy as hell. Smooth as silk, the sound causes a chill to run up my spine despite the warm fall night.
“I, um, I’m Chloe,” I say, taking a step closer to him and extending my hand.
When he takes my hand in his, the warmth of his calloused hands brings a smile to my face and kickstarts my heart. Making eye contact for the first time, I find that I’m having the same effect on him.
“Wyatt,” he finally says, my hand still wrapped in his.
“Wyatt. I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“Probably not. Still new to town. I just moved here over the summer.”
Nodding, I’m at a loss for words. I want to ask him a million questions, but no sound leaves my mouth. This boy, this man, has me speechless and I don’t know anything about him yet, but I want to. I want to know everything.
Where’s he from? Why did he move here? Does he feel what I’m feeling right now?
“I should probably take a look at your car before Willy wonders why I’m not back.” Reluctantly I pull my hand back and nod. “Can you pop the hood for me?”
Doing as he asks, I watch as he fiddles with a few cables and checks things out. After ten minutes, he slams the hood closed and turns to me, the headlights from his truck illuminating the hard lines of his jaw. I want to reach up and run my fingers over them.
“I need to tow you back to the shop and see if Willy can figure out what’s wrong with it. Your battery seems fine, but it could be a bad connection.”
“Okay. Can I get a ride back? My parents are out of town this weekend, so I don’t have anyone else to call.”
