26. Dane
26
DANE
For the past two hours, I’ve been subjected to nonstop bubblegum pop. It’s not the music I’d jam to in my garage, but Reese asked if she could stream her playlist after discovering I tend to listen to the same song on repeat.
I’m not listening to the lyrics. I just need background noise while I work.
As it is, I’m taking inventory of what I need to order for the beaut: filters, fuel pump, and spark plugs. It’s a damn shame. Replacing assembly line parts with aftermarket always kills me, but it must be done if I want this car to run smoothly.
Taking a step back from the engine, I catch sight of Reese removing her sweater right then and there. As if she can sense me shamelessly checking her out, her eyes narrow in suspicion. Her hand goes to cover her scar.
“Don’t mind me. Feel free to take it all off?—”
She shoots me a baleful glare, but at least she’s no longer trying to conceal her neck. I’ll count that as a win. “It’s a bit hot in here.”
She’s not wrong. It’s stuffy in here with the door down. I have the windows cracked open, but they can only do so much.
“Want me to get you some water?” I offer, and she shakes her head.
“I’m fine, but thank you.” Smiling, she spins around on the barstool and returns her attention to her engineering project. Whatever’s on her laptop screen looks mighty confusing. I can’t blame the frown she’s got going on. I’d be pissed, too, if I had to deal with this while other Belford U students got to mix colors for a grade.
My focus goes back to the engine, where countless stripped bolts taunt me with their presence. Out of nowhere, Reese leans forward in my periphery, and I fight my groan when her tiny top slides up and reveals a glimpse of her skin.
Then I actually groan when I smack my head into the hood. She peeks over her shoulder, concern etching across her features.
“Are you?—”
“Wasn’t looking where I was going.” I tense up when she rushes over, willing myself to relax as she stretches on her toes and examines me. “I’m experiencing some déjà vu from this.”
Her eyebrow arches. “Which time?”
Right. She’s fussed over me twice now. I quietly chuckle. “Both, I guess.”
“Do you need ice?”
“I think I need a kiss to make it better.”
She dissolves into laughter as she gives me a playful shove. “ I think you’ll be fine.”
“Damn, you’re cold, Reese’s Pieces.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and returns to the workbench.
There’s no more bubblegum pop playing, so I can hear the crickets chirping outside and the occasional car driving by. We’re both sitting on the floor with takeout from the local Thai spot. Reese is leaning into my shoulder as we wolf down the food. Well, I am. She’s all manners with her stir fry, and she’s too damn sweet offering me pieces of chicken in between bites.
“Are you heading home for Thanksgiving?”
It’s an innocent question, but it dampens my mood. I can already imagine the nightmare awaiting me if I dare show up. Easily picture the unhappy faces. “Nah, fuck that.”
“You’re not close to your parents, either?”
“ You’re not close to yours?” Between us, she seems like the type to, I don’t know, have a good relationship with her family. Hell, she’s always reaching out to her sister whenever we’re together.
Her expression falters as she grumbles, “I asked you first.”
“Are we in middle school?” I counter. “Nah. I’m not close to that prickhead at all.”
“What about your mom?”
With a shrug, I set my carton down and grab a napkin. “I’ll stop by the ocean or some shit.”
“The ocean?”
“That’s where her ashes are scattered.”
“ Oh .” Her voice is soft.
“Save your tears, Reese’s Pieces.” Looking over, I find her giving me sad eyes. “Don’t worry about me. Everyone’s moved on already.”
Her stare becomes pensive and makes me feel scrubbed raw from the inside out. “Define everyone.”
“Every person, everybody?—”
“ Dane .”
“Why don’t you like your folks?”
Immediately, she ducks her head and pokes at her food. “They’re not good people.”
“Did they do something to you?” My gut clenches as I look at her scar.
She glances sideways and balks. “What? No . They didn’t cause this. They were just mean and bitter… Always had an opinion about something.”
“You know, your parents don’t define who you are,” I tell her, and she spares me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I know.” She bites her bottom lip. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving, then?”
“Probably be here. Fixing the Nova. You?”
“Hang with my sister. I think she’s gonna drag me to the mall on Friday.”
“For the love of God,” I interject. “Don’t buy yourself another sweater. We’re in Southern California, not Vermont. Unless you enjoy being in a state of constant sweating, get yourself more of these.”
I reach over and tug on the thin strap of her top.
Her nose scrunches. “You should paint the Nova purple.”
I decide to go along with the change of topic. Give her an out. “Why purple?”
“Okay, well… Whenever I hear Nova, I automatically think of supernovas.” Something sheepish flits across her profile. “I know they’re composed of different colors, but I always think of purple first.”
I grimace. “For the car, though? Really ?”
“It’s not a bad color,” she insists somewhat defensively.
“I’ve never once seen a purple that’s not a bad color.”
She gasps. “Well… I like this one particular shade… which happens to be the color of my name.”
Furrowing a brow, I give her a slow perusal. “Your name is Purple ?”
She pulls away slightly, stunned. “ No .”
“Wait.” I straighten my spine. “What is your name?”
She offers me a shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Aw, baby. Don’t do this to me,” I protest. “Don’t ruin my Christmas gift for you. I wanted to surprise you so badly, but how will I get my back tattoo done if I don’t know what it is?”
“ What ?”
“Yeah. I wanted my first piece to mean something. I guess I’ll have to settle for Reese’s Stuffed ?—”
Her palm spreads across my mouth; her gaze narrows in warning. “I know it’s your body, but no .”
My eyes crinkle as I peel back and settle against the car. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Don’t I?”
“I don’t care for ’em,” I explain, and I’m met with a heavy dose of skepticism. “Let me guess. A dangerous guy like me should be covered in them?”
Her face falls. “Dane?—”
“It’s okay, Reese’s Pieces. I know you don’t think I’m that bad, or else you probably wouldn’t have fucked me.”
She splutters as her cheeks become splotchy red. “I don’t think you’re as bad as people make you out to be. You’re a bit rough around the edges, though.”
“Yeah. I know. You said that about me before. I remember everything you tell me.” I tap my temple, registering her surprise. “Just because I ditch class doesn’t mean I’m dumber than a bag of rocks. I’m capable of recalling things.”
Flustered, she folds her arms. “Even from that night?”
“The night we fucked?”
“The night we met ,” she clarifies.
I hesitate as vivid flashes of a swinging crowbar come to mind. “You thought I had a bicycle.” With a shake of my head, I snicker. “And you didn’t even buy me dinner before my shirt went off, which you demanded. You couldn’t even keep your hands off of me once I stripped for you.”
“You were bleeding everywhere,” she points out, unamused. “And I thought sushi counted.”
“People tend to wine and dine before they get to it,” I tease, and she narrows her eyes.
“Speaking from experience?” she asks dryly.
“Nah. I never bothered.” Christ. I sound like a major tool. “They were just meaningless hookups.” Great. Now I sound like a complete douchebag.
“Oh.” She goes silent. “Am I?—”
“ No . Do not finish that sentence.”
“But you haven’t wined and dined me before we…” She trails off and picks at her nails.
I wince. I should have seen this coming. She likes the museum , for crying out loud. And she endured Blue Balls for weeks while he took her to places like that nasally concert.
Knocking her thigh with mine, I wait until she looks my way. “You want me to take you out on dates?”
“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” she says softly. “I’d like to go out with you.”
“You got it,” I say. “I already know where to take you.”
Suspicion gathers behind her eyes. “Should I be worried?”
I toss her a wink while I grab my soda. She quietly sighs and returns her attention to her stir fry.
“How many?”
I crack a grin. “Damn, you expecting me to take you on ten dates in one day or something?”
“How many girls have you slept with?”
“Reese, I don’t keep track of that. I’m a dumbass, not a sleaze.”
“But if you have to ballpark?” she prods, and I don’t think she’s going to drop the subject any time soon.
“All right, I’ll be honest with you.” I turn toward her. “I’ve been around a few times. Back in high school was the brunt of it.” Before the Walker incident . “I went through a stupid phase where I believed I was hot shit and could get away with anything.”
“And you’ve… matured since then?” I don’t miss the slight tease in her voice or the hint of concern in her gaze. It’s her expressive face. It betrays her every time.
“People can change.” I bring my hand to her cheek, and she reluctantly leans into it. “Promise you, there’s nothing to worry about. I know I’m a handful and my past is… checkered, but I’m… all in with you.”
“You are?”
A sharp exhalation escapes me. “Yeah, so don’t leave me hanging, Reese,” I say teasingly. “Tell me you’re all in, too.”
“And you say I’m bossy.” She stifles her laughter with her fist and peers into my eyes. “I guess I’m all in with you, too.”
“Wow. You guess ?”
“I’m worried about where you plan on taking me for our first official date, and I kind of want to wait and see—” She shrieks and tries to shove me away when I bury my face into her neck. “ Ew. You’re sticky ?—”
“Come on, Reese,” I wheedle. “Tell me what I want to hear.”
“I won’t buy another sweater.” She yelps when I nip at her collarbone. “Okay, okay.” She nudges me back before I can venture any lower and barely manages to suppress her giggles, her palm pressed flatly against my chest. “I won’t leave you hanging.”
“You sure about that?” I tease, and her finger pokes the spot above my heart. I don’t have to look to know what she’s tracing as she holds my gaze.
“If it’s not that obvious by now,” she says softly, her mouth sneaking up at the corner. “I’m all in with you, too.”