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“Your CV joints are bad. I’m replacing them.”
She’s quiet again, her voice small when she asks, “Was that dangerous?”
“It was. Had the joint gone out completely, driving your car would have been almost impossible, and if it went out while you were driving, you would have wrecked.”
I glance back at her. “Any other noises or vibrations you want to tell me about?”
There’s that glare again, and my dick comes to life just seeing it. This girl is dangerous in her own way, so I turn back to the car because it’s much safer than staring at Brinley.
Why she does this to me is something I can’t figure out. Maybe it’s because she’s mouthy, which is against everything I’ve ever admired in women before.
Normally, that shit drives me mad, but while I’ve wanted most women to fucking shut up in the past, my dick gets hard every time Little Miss Nerd over there spits out some barb, insult or other bullshit at me.
“I thought all of that was just normal car stuff,” she finally admits.
My head drops, and I attempt to believe she can be that ignorant.
Turning to face her, I catch her eyes with mine and ignore the spark I swear jumps between us.
“What’s your IQ?”
She wiggles in her seat at the question, a look of indignation on her face. “What makes you think I know my IQ?”
“Because you’re a nerd who actually enjoys school and brainiac shit.”
Flipping her hair over one shoulder, she grins. “What’s wrong? Did you barely pass high school and have to pay people to take your tests?”
My lips tug into a grin. “I graduated with my Juris Doctorate from Yale. And I did it without any help at all.”
Surprise replaces the indignation. As if busted, she looks anywhere else but at me.
“My IQ is around 155.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I take a few steps toward her, my movement causing her to wrench her neck to look back at me, those blue eyes of hers watching me closely, like I’m a coiled snake about to strike.
“You are smart enough to know there are many things wrong with your car. And for as paranoid as you are, I’m surprised you didn’t have it in the shop every fucking weekend for safety inspections.”
Her expression drops, a moment of sorrow rolling behind her eyes.
“I knew there was something wrong with it. I just didn’t have the money to fix it, and I didn’t want to ask my dad for more. He can’t afford it. Not after—”
She catches herself and looks away.
Well, I’ll be damned.
Maybe Tanner was right about his methods working.
One little supposed favor I’m doing for her, and trickles of information leak out.
I drop the topic and attempt another one, too afraid to press for more on her father for fear she’ll shut down and stop talking.
“Why are you so paranoid anyway?”
That gets her attention. Her eyes snap back to mine, irritation replacing the sorrow.
“I’m not paranoid.”
