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She waggled her hand. “Some.”
“UB40?”
She shot him a look. He had to be testing her. “No. Obviously.”
He slapped the wheel with both hands so hard she jumped. “Fuck, Clements! Yes!” Then he took his eyes off the road again and looked at her for so long she nearly grabbed the wheel from him.
“High five!”
She met his palm with hers and grinned at the light dancing in his eyes. It was nice to surprise him in a pleasant way for a change.
And it took her mind off the fluttering anticipation of what awaited them when they reached Jay’s house. Would they go up to his room? Would he cup her face like they did in movies? Would it be terrible? What if she hated it? What if all kisses were like the two she had experienced and she realised she didn’t like kissing at all? Simon would never want to date someone who didn’t like kissing.
And if she didn’t like kissing, how could she possibly like sex?
She was lost in these dark and anxious thoughts when Jay pulled up outside his parent’s garage and swore under his breath. He was staring at a large black Bentley SUV parked at a careless angle in the yard between the garage and the back of the house.
“That’s Shilstone’s Bentayga,” he said. “I’m sure of it. What the fuck is he doing here?”
Just then they heard loud laughter coming from the back of the house and three young men emerged, followed by an annoyed looking older woman Sophia recognised as the Orton’s housekeeper.
The men spotted the newly arrived Lamborghini and its occupant and started walking over.
“Orton, you scrotum!” called one of the men in greeting. He was wearing red trousers and a checked shirt. One of the other men was also wearing red trousers. The third sported a trilby and a cravat. Sophia assumed he was wearing it ironically, but he still looked ridiculous.
“Friends of yours?” asked Sophia.
Jay seemed to shrink in his seat. “Unfortunately, yes. Biffy Shilstone, Hugo Blackton, Vikram Singh. Stay in the car,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’ll get rid of them.”
He had barely got out before a clear plastic bag of white powder landed on the Lamborghini’s bonnet, making Sophia jump. She eyed it uneasily, fairly sure it was cocaine. A little packet of pills landed next to it, then a bag of something that looked like dried herbs, but almost certainly was not.
Jay ignored the bags and folded his arms, one hip leaning against the car as his friends joined him.
“Got some snacks for the road trip,” said the one who had thrown the bag. He was tall with dark hair. Hugo, Sophia thought.
“Orton,” said the other red-trousered man. Biffy? “We heard you were dead. Wrapped around a tree or something.”
“Not quite,” said Jay. “Crashed the old man’s Boxster though. He wasn’t too pleased.”
“Your father’s cars are all shit anyway,” said Hugo, eyeing the Lamborghini as though it made his point.
“I know,” agreed Jay drily. “You’d think he’d be thanking me. Saved him the trouble of getting it scrapped.”
Sophia frowned at Jay’s careless tone, so different to what she was used to.
Just then, Hugo, who had been eyeing the Lamborghini with a disdainful eye, spotted her in the passenger seat.
Sophia stiffened as he began to smile.
“You’ve got company, Orton? Who’s the girl?”
Jay glanced around, flashing her a tense look as the others moved to peer in through the window as though she was an exhibit in the zoo.
Biffy’s eyes widened. “Shit! It’s Frigid Bridget!”
Jay moved quickly and pulled him away by the elbow. But not far enough. Sophia could still hear every word.
“You finally thought you’d tap that, did you?” continued Biffy. “Pickings must be slim down here if you’re risking the Bone Borer.”
