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But fuck me if it isn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
4
LANIE
“Okay, now ease down on the accelerator,” he says. “Smooth and slow, Lanie.”
Sitting behind the wheel of his Hyundai Santa Fe, I grip the wheel and try to do as he says—ease down on the accelerator. But the car shoots forward and I slam on the brake with both feet, jerking both of us forward violently. It was such a hard jerk that Lane had to throw his hands out, bracing himself against the dashboard to keep from slamming his face into it.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say with a grimace.
“It’s fine. I was just thinking I hadn’t had whiplash lately and was kind of missing it,” he replies with a laugh.
“Oh, you’re funny.”
“Yeah, I’ve been told it’s part of my charm.”
“Then somebody lied to you,” she said.
We share a laugh as I put the car into park and take a deep breath. My hands are on the steering wheel—at ten and two, just like I remember from Driver’s Ed. But they’re shaking pretty badly. Lane reaches over and puts one of his big hands over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. I turn and when I meet his dazzling green eyes, it feels like my heart stops completely. I feel the warmth of his hand flowing into mine, making my skin feel like it’s on fire as it sends tendrils of electricity shooting through my veins.
Just his touch, even as innocent as it is, sends goosebumps marching up and down my body. The heat blooms low in my belly—and even lower than that. A quiver runs through me, and I feel the insides of my thighs growing slick. I clear my throat and try to focus on the car, on what he’s saying, rather than what his touch is doing to me. It’s not easy though. It’s not easy at all.
“The first thing you need to do is relax,” he says.
“It’s a little hard to relax when this is my first time behind the wheel,” I tell him. “And it’s ten times worse because this isn’t even my car.”
“Would it make you feel better about everything if I told you I stole it and have no idea whose car this is either?”
My eyes widen as I look at him—foolishly believing him for a moment. He laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard and my lips twitch as a smile flickers across my face.
“Oh, my God. You are such an ass,” I say.
“Got your mind off your stress though, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah, I suppose it did,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“Good. Now, take a deep breath and just relax,” he says. “I mean, come on, Lanie. We're in a massive, mostly empty parking lot. There isn't much for you to hit out here.”
“Relax. Right,” I reply with a laugh. “Got it.”
“Take a deep breath, Lanie. Then close your eyes, count to ten, and let it out,” he says, his voice steady and even. “And when you’re ready, put the car back into gear and gently ease down on the accelerator. You got this.”
“I got this,” I repeat, trying to force myself to believe it.
After letting out a long breath, I put the car into gear and slowly press down on the accelerator and we glide away, smooth and straight. My stomach churns and I’m fighting the urge to bounce up and down in my seat as I take it up to twenty miles an hour, still smoothly gliding along. The smile on my face is wide and my heart is thundering in my breast as the electric tingles of excitement run through my body.
“I’m doing it,” I squeal. “I’m really doing it!”
“You are,” he replies. “Now, turn around and go the other way.”
“Turn around?”
“Yep. Just take your foot off the gas and turn the wheel, and when you get yourself turned the other way, gently press on the accelerator again,” he tells me.
I do as he says and make the turn smoothly, then accelerate, getting the car up to about thirty, the ride smooth.
“There you go,” he says. “See? You’ve got it. You’re a natural.”
