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“Did you get your license?”
“Right. That.” I curl my hands under the lid of the container and pop it off. I do it cleanly without beaning myself in the face with the lid or having some other freak accident. That’s saying something as it’s not easy to be coordinated while my body is buzzing from Lennox’s proximity, the dark scent of cloves and sandalwood in my nose, and the lingering tingle from his hand to my jaw. “No.”
“I guess it didn’t work then. I told you that I’m not a lucky charm.”
“And if I had passed, would you have been then?”
“No, it would have been skill. But don’t worry. No one passes the first time. I’m sure you just need to try again.” He says that so softly and nicely that my heart aches a little.
“Thanks. My parents looked at each other when I told them. Just looked at each other. They didn’t say a word, but that look… It was basically a look that said oh gee, our hopelessly unlucky daughter, who has never had one thing go right for her in her entire life, failed her test. Are you surprised? Nope. We’re not surprised. And I’m not trying to be cynical. They really did look at each other like that.”
Lennox huffs. He looks at me for just a second, then looks away, but I can see something in that look, and it isn’t anything along the lines of what I just described. Was it…anger? Anger at my parents for knowing I’d fail and for not believing in me? I don’t know. Now he’s focused on the candy instead. I follow his gaze and groan.
“God, why? Why do I have to have the worst luck? Why can’t something good just happen to me for once?”
There is only one bottle candy left in the tin, and it’s broken off at the top, so it’s not even a whole one. Someone literally stuck the tin back in there with one left.
Fuck my life with a side of fucking fuck fuckery do.
“You have it,” Lennox says. “I insist.”
“I’ll probably choke on it and die at this rate.”
“No, you won’t. You eat it. Right now. Prove to yourself that you can do it. There isn’t any such thing as luck. It’s just skill, circumstance, and—”
“Life isn’t always what we make it. Sometimes, there are things we can’t control against us.”
“You’re not going to choke on that bottle candy.”
“I might.”
“You’re going to rebook your driver’s test, and this time, you’re going to pass.”
“Doubtful at best. I’m a terrible driver, which is why I never got my license. My parents always hated being in the vehicle with me when I had to practice.”
Lennox’s countenance turns absolutely stormy. Somehow, that makes his face even hotter, which I would have bet money against because it already seems like he’s at peak hotness level. “You will indeed pass the next time because you’ll practice hard and be confident going into it. If you haven’t wrecked a vehicle yet, that makes you a better driver than three-quarters of drivers anywhere.”
“I…”
“Eat that bottle candy! Then tell me you’re going to pass your driver’s test.”
“No! I’m so unlucky that if Missy Pickle Poo came back in here, she’d probably do me down with her murder mittens just because she was in the mood to commit foul cat meow-der.”
“You just wanted to use the word meow-der. She’s so small that she’d be incapable of murdering you.”
“She might maim my face.”
“Then you and Ransom would have something in common.”
My jaw unhinges. “I can’t believe you just said that!” I glare at him. “Too far, Lennox. That’s way too far.”
He looks at me sheepishly. “I meant that to be said with love, sorry. You know I love Ransom. He’d joke about the scar the same way if he were here, but maybe he hasn’t done that with you. He’s my brother, and sometimes we’re too familiar. We bust each other’s balls. The scar…we all see it, but it’s just part of him, and we love him and would do anything for him—me and the rest of the guys and Granny.”
“I—I guess you’re right. Okay, I get that.”
He pauses, testing the waters to see if I’m going to chew his head off again. “You know that it happened because some ten-year-old punk got him with the fork end of a spork, right?”
“I…what?”
“You think you have bad luck….” He shakes his head. “You grew up with parents who might be insensitive about some things, but they love you. They took care of you. You got a good education, you graduated from college, and you’re still whole. You haven’t been maimed with a spork, you have your health, and you’re a gorgeous, beyond beautiful woman. You have your own place and now a car of your own. You have a good job because you worked hard, you’re talented, and people believe in you. You probably even have houseplants at your apartment that you haven’t killed, and you didn’t get crushed by that piano. Bad things happen to everyone. That’s just life. So I wouldn’t say you’ve been any unluckier than anyone else.”
