Chapter 15 Stevie #2
“Dammit…hold up.” A hand grabs mine, spinning me around. Lex stands before me with snowflakes in his hair and remorse in his eyes. “Let me drive you home.”
I pull my hand free. “I’ll be fine.”
“It’s thirty fucking degrees out. I’m driving you home.” He snatches my hand again and drags me down the sidewalk.
“Lex—please, let me go. I said I’ll be fine.
It’s not that far.” My bruised ego is clearly doing the talking; I won’t be fine.
It’s freezing, my heart is in shreds, and my tears are turning to icicles on my cheeks.
There are alcohol in my system and three-inch heels attached to my already sore feet.
“I’ll call my dad to come get me. You don’t need to drive me. ”
“I’m driving you.” He refuses to let go of my hand as he stalks forward, pulling me across the street to where my silver sedan sits, already blanketed in a dusting of snow. “Give me your keys.”
My teeth clench against the cold. “Why don’t we just take your car? You can drop me off and drive home. Dad can bring me to get my car tomorrow.”
“I walked here.”
I finally manage to wiggle my hand free from his. Folding my arms across my chest, I trail behind him. “How will you get home?”
“I’ll figure it out. Keys.” He holds out his hand.
Reluctantly, I dig into my purse and pull out the key ring, plopping it into his outstretched palm with more aggression than necessary. Then I stall in the middle of the street, glancing both ways, conflicted and torn. “I’m seriously fine walking—”
He shoves a finger at the vehicle. “Get in.”
Sighing through my misery, I watch my breath fall out in a little white plume before I ungracefully tromp over to the passenger’s side, my boots skidding in the inch of snow.
When I’m tucked inside, I slam the door.
It’s a reprieve from the stone-cold wind but not from the shame coursing through me.
I press both hands to my cheeks and try not to unravel.
Lex hops in beside me and starts the car, the engine purring to life. Headlights blare, illuminating what would normally be a magical wintry backdrop. Flakes spill from the sky in a delicate dance and transform the world into a frosted wonderland.
But my emotions are punching holes in it all, so I set my jaw as Lex leans back and scrubs both hands over his face.
Silence washes over us as warmth spills from the air vents. My limbs tremble, my tears still threatening to overflow.
“Stevie,” he starts, hesitating as he sits in the driver’s seat. “Let me explain—”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” My voice is raw and hoarse, residual strain from the performance, mingling with pain. “I messed up. Let’s just forget about it.”
“I didn’t mean to react like that. It was just…I don’t know.” He glances at me, his expression tormented. “Instinct.”
My face blooms with fresh heat.
Instinct.
An involuntary reaction to my lips on his, to this underwhelming farm girl thinking she’s worthy enough to kiss the movie star. “Thanks, Lex. That makes me feel better.”
“Shit.” He blows out a sigh of frustration, shoving a trembling hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I get it, okay?” I curl into myself, wishing I could dissolve into the seatback. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You have to understand—”
“Just drive me home, Lex.”
“Dammit, Nicks, just let me—”
“Stop!” I practically shriek the word. Treacherous tears fall from the corners of my eyes, leaving hot trails along my cheekbones.
I swipe them away, his unsaid words digging six-foot holes in my dignity.
“Please, just stop. I said I don’t want to talk about it. I want to pretend it never happened.”
I see him hesitate in my periphery.
His hand clutches the wheel.
“Okay,” he finally says, two jagged syllables.
He buckles his seat belt, jams the gear lever into Drive, and we take off down the neighborhood street.
Lex goes quiet, and only the sound of the engine fused with tires crunching across snow breaches our bubble.
The silence is heavy, a poignant weight pushing on my chest. There’s a buzzing in my ears, a shrill hum.
His horrified expression streaks across my mind, the way he shoved me away, the way he stared at me like I’d just betrayed him in some awful, vile way.
It hurts.
It hurts so much.
The silence stretches along with the miles as I gaze out the window at the slashes of white and blustery tree branches.
I want to turn on music as a way to dull this deafening hush, but I can’t move.
I’m scared to move. I’m afraid he’ll try to talk to me again—try to explain —and I am not ready to hear his words.
I don’t think of you like that.
I’m not attracted to you.
You’re just a friend.
“Hey,” he whispers after a few minutes pass.
My eyelids flutter closed, lashes still damp. I swallow hard but don’t respond.
“Nicks.” Another whisper, just a tiny crack in the void. “Can you…talk to me? I need a distraction.”
Cautiously, I turn my head and sneak a glance at him. His eyes look heavy. Heavy like my heart. I watch as he inches the window down until a jolt of frigid air permeates the car and snatches up my breath.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, quickly closing it.
Lex taps his hand at his thigh, his opposite hand white-knuckled around the steering wheel. He’s anxious, fidgeting, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Empathy trickles through me, seeing him so rattled, but I can’t summon my voice.
I can hardly breathe.
I twist away from him, my knees pointed at the passenger door.
My arms fold tighter around my body. He wants me to talk to him, but I don’t even know what to say; there’s nothing to say.
All I want to do is escape into my house and cry my heart out to the stars as they gleam with apologies and sympathies from way up high.
I’ve never done that before.
I’ve never tried to kiss someone, let alone someone like him. Someone so far out of my league.
Minutes pass. Five, ten. My thoughts are intrusive, a topsy-turvy mess.
What was I thinking?
God, I was so—
The car swerves left.
At first, I think I imagined it. Fell asleep.
My fractured mind is playing tricks on me.
But then a sudden jolt yanks me back to reality, and I realize the road ahead is dangerously skewed. I snap upright and look over at Lex, watching the moment his eyes flutter shut and his head droops. “Lex!”
He shoots awake.
Grabs the wheel just as the car skids across the snow-covered road.
“ Shit .”
He wrestles with the steering wheel, jerking it right.
The tires scream in protest.
We spin and slide and zigzag as slush and rubble spit at the glass and my heart drops out of me with every violent lurch.
But it’s too late.
An earsplitting scream tears from my lungs.
I brace myself for impact, stealing a glance at the stars, just as my brand-new car wraps around a tree.