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Thirty minutes, a slice of cheesecake, and another glass of sweet tea later, Kettle was standing beside my rental car as I leaned against it.
“How much longer are they going to be on your car?” Kettle asked, eyeing the car with disgust.
I felt the same way. I hated the rental car. Especially after I was used to driving my own car. This car was too bland for my tastes, and didn’t have the get-up-and-go my own car had.
I missed my baby.
I sighed. “I don’t even think they’ve looked at it yet. They said they had some paying customers come in that they had to do first, and then they’d get to mine since mine was an insurance job.”
Although I could understand the reasoning, I hated that they weren’t even looking at it until they felt like it.
It wasn’t my fault that jackass had hit me.
A clunk, thunk, and then a curse came from the side of the car, and we both looked up to see Viddy holding her forehead. “Oww.”
“Your sister just hit her head on the door,” Kettle observed, slightly concerned.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “She does that quite a bit. She doesn’t like to draw attention to it though, so just act like you didn’t notice.”
“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.
I guessed it went against the grain of my personality not to help those in need, but I knew my twin sister like the back of my hand. I knew that Viddy wouldn’t like help, and she hated calling attention to her weakness.
I’d learned long ago not to even bother with helping her if she had her mind set against help. Which was why I had a scar that ran along the underside of my chin from where my sister threw a vase at my head because I had the nerve to offer to assist Viddy outside for prom our senior year.
“Well, thank you again for dinner. You didn’t have to buy ours, but I appreciate it anyway.” I smiled at Kettle.
Then I noticed how close we were standing. How very,veryclose.
“Kettle?” I breathed.
Kettle’s eyes, those beautiful blue eyes went from my mouth, where they’d been staring, to my eyes, and the sexual awareness that flashed in them fairly electrified my nerve endings.
He leaned in, pressing me slightly against the door of my car, and leaned in until he was only a hairsbreadth away before he said, “Yeah?”
I could feel the hard ridges of his body where he leaned against me, and then the very hard part of him that I was dying to rub against.
Then my fucking asshole sister honked the horn, making us jump apart like we’d had a vat of boiling oil poured over our heads.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed, pressing my hand against my heart.
Kettle was three feet away from me, his hands linked on the top of his head as he glared daggers at my sister. “Your sisters a...a...”
“Bitch?” I supplied.
Kettle shook my head and smiled. “I was going to say-”
“Asshole?” I cut him off.
“Shit head. I was going to say shit head.” Kettle chuckled as he moved closer to me.
Then the asshole honked the horn again, making both Kettle and I look at each other helplessly.
“Alright, well the queen asshole has spoken,” I shook my head and then opened my car door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I plan to have groceries.”
“I’m working tomorrow.” Kettle told me.
Was that a hint of sadness in his voice, or was it only me wanting it to be there?
