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I can’t see Nick’s face, but I felt him shift next to me. I know what he’s thinking. It’s what most people think when I tell them I don’t drive.
“How the hell do you not have a license?” He blurts out.
Yup. I was right. It’s a different form of the same question I always get.
“I basically grew up in New York City. Mostly in Brooklyn, but either way, public transportation is so good there. There’s no need for a car.” I shrug again feeling the heat on my cheeks.
Back home it’s fine, normal even. But here it feels embarrassing.
“Wow.” He squeezes my shoulders. “Never met a twenty-one-year-old who doesn’t know how to drive. In my town if you don’t drive you’d have no way of getting anywhere. I’ve been driving since I was thirteen. Not officially but on a farm and shit.” He lets out a long breath. “You’ve never driven at all?”
“Do bumper cars count?” I ask with a cringe.
“No.” He laughs at me.
“Then no.” I shrug again.
It's not my fault I didn’t grow up near farmland as he did.
“Go-karts? Motor bikes? A Vespa? Or a golf cart? I don’t think those really count, but have you ever driven any of those?” Nick asks, still in disbelief.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Shit, Lenny. What am I going to do with you?” He smirks looking sideways at me.
Fuck, I love that smirk. It makes me want to lean in and snuggle into his chest.
I jump as the doors behind us open. Layla and Greg join us outside and we walk to our cars which are parked right next to each other. Greg’s SUV hid Layla’s small car nicely.
The hockey stick and Huskies window decal should have tipped me off earlier.
Greg and Layla hold each other in between the cars talking and making out, making things more awkward for us as I lean against Layla’s trunk and Nick presses himself against my side.
“Just trying to keep you warm.” He shrugs.
My head still feels dizzy, but the cold is keeping me alert. That tequila is sneaky. I knew it was going to come back and bite me in the ass soon.
How is Nick not even slightly buzzed?
I laugh as he yawns and reaches up and around me pulling me closer to him.
“Oh my god. Really?” I scoff at him.
“What? Does that only work in the movies? I haven’t pulled that move since middle school.” His lips form a goofy grin.
“How are you sober?” I try not to slur my words while shaking my finger at him.
He laughs and then tries to bite it.
“I’m definitely not sober. If I was, you and I would be driving back to your place already, rather than freezing your little ass off.” He reaches down and squeezes the side of my ass cheek that is lifted off the car.
Now I see it.
The touchy-feely Nick. Maybe he’s just as drunk as I am. My brain is thinking one thing but my body is doing another. I feel clear, but I’m being sloppy.
“Don’t squeeze my ass. I’m on to you Nick Miller.” I squint up at him.
I know his little game.
