17. Avery
Avery
W es arrives at my rental house at five to six in that CR-V of his. I head out the moment I see the now familiar car, not giving him the chance to pick me up at the door.
As he climbs out of the car, his boot clad feet hit the road. He’s dressed in dark wash denim and a faded T-shirt. The type of clothes he’d wear doing chores back in Caper. For a moment, I wonder if this is how he’d look if we never left.
“Wow, someone’s in a rush.” I don’t miss how he slowly peruses my body. Shameless.
The outfit I’ve settled on for the night consists of a black dress paired with a denim jacket. Have I spent the last two hours since I’ve seen him trying on clothes? Absolutely. But he doesn’t have to know that.
“Excited to get this over with. Where is this place you’re taking me?” I start heading to the passenger side door. The sooner we start, the sooner it’s over.
“It’s a spot I heard about a bit out of Palms Springs near Joshua Tree.”
This stops me dead in my tracks. “You’re fucking with me, right?
I’m not driving all the way out there with you.
Pick somewhere else.” At minimum that would be five hours, most of which would be in the confined space of his car.
And though I hate to admit it, the sight of the older car throws me off balance.
“Nope. They have a spot for us.”
“Fine. Then I’m driving myself.”
A muscle in his jaw tenses and I think he’s going to fight me on this, but instead he lets out a resigned, “I’ll send you the directions.”
The address Wes sent isn’t even a real place, just coordinates. Outside is an expanse of desert, dotted by wobbly-limbed Joshua trees and spiny yucca. His car is a dot in front of me, but still, I’m not so sure about this. So, after another fifteen minutes, I call him.
“Are you sure we’re heading to the right place?” I ask.
“Yes, you’ll know it when you see it.” His voice pours through the speakers
Beneath me, the car jolts and bumps as I hit a pothole. Reflexively, my fingers clench the steering wheel harder.
“This better be worth it.”
There’s another dip, followed by the sound of rapid slaps against the pavement, the car canting to one side. A hazard light flares to life on my dash.
“Shit,” I hiss, pounding the wheel with my palm as I pull off to the shoulder and park. “Something’s up with my car. I’ll be right back.”
I hop out and walk around the front. Sure enough, the front tire on the passenger side is done for, the rubber pooling around the base of the rim. I check the other tires too, but they all seem fine.
The display on my dash shows that Wes hasn’t hung up as I slip back into my seat. “I’ve popped a tire.”
“Do you know how to change it?” Up ahead he’s made a U-turn and is headed back my way.
“I could try if I find a video.” I’m already pulling out my phone to check.
“Please don’t.”
Wes hangs up just as he pulls in front of me, kicking up a plume of dirt as he hits the edge of the road. He’s wearing this shit eating grin that I get a clear view of as the driver side window rolls down. “Need a ride?”
“How far out is the restaurant?”
“About two miles,” he says.
“Great. See you there.” I start walking. Along the horizon, the sun is starting to melt across the mountains. Probably enough for thirty more minutes of light. I should be able to make it there by then.
“Where are you going?” Wes shouts. Footsteps pound behind me as he races to catch up.
“To the restaurant.”
“Let me drive. You don’t even know what it looks like.”
“What happened to you’ll know it when you see it? I’m not getting in a car with you.” A stubborn attempt to regain some thread of control over this situation.
The footsteps stop. Good. I’ll go along with this stupid night, but I’m sure as hell not making it convenient.
The low rumble of a car starts from behind me. I expect Wes to drive past me and head back down the road, but he slows to a crawl, matching my pace as he rolls down his window. “Just get in. It will take three minutes to get there.”
“No thanks. I’ve been wanting to stretch out my legs after some idiot convinced me to drive out to the middle of nowhere. You go on ahead.”
“I’m not leaving you out here.”
And he doesn’t. He follows right alongside me in his car at an agonizingly slow pace and starts talking.
“I’ve been thinking, we should invite the guys and Evelyn to our first show.
Make a big party out of it. Luca probably will come up with an excuse but the rest of us can have fun without him.
You know… I think there’s something there between Evelyn and Garrett.
I can’t be the only one who sees it. Tell me I’m wrong—”
I stop and so does he. A car honks and swerves around him.
“Are you going to talk the entire way?” I demand.
“You haven’t spoken to me in weeks; I have a lot I’ve been waiting to say.”
“Will you shut up if I get in the car with you?”
“I think I can manage to do that.”
I hop in the passenger seat and call roadside assistance. They tell me it will likely be at least two hours until they can be out here. Which means, unless I can snag Wes’s keys without him looking and make a quick getaway, I’m out of luck.
Wes pulls into a parking lot in front of a faded wood-paneled building. A neon sign above the entrance reads Next Exit and then under it in tiny script, 0 miles . A pair of motorcycles and three cars are spread across the asphalt.
“What the hell is this place?”
“You’re the one who said she wanted to sing with me at a shitty dive bar,” Wes says, cutting the engine and exiting.
I follow closely behind, slamming my door behind me. “That’s what this is about. That list?” He can’t seriously think I want to finish that with him after what’s happened.
“It’s a bonus.” His expression sobers, pausing when we reach the steps leading up to the entrance.
“Think of it this way. We get up on that stage in there and prove that we can get along for the length of a song. I didn’t want to pick somewhere too close to the city, so I hunted down this place.
I called up the owner and they’re cool with us hopping on stage for a bit as long as we don’t suck. ”
“One song?” I ask, hesitant to agree.
“That’s all I’m asking.” Keys clink as he holds them up so they jingle inches from my face. “We sing, we talk, and then if you want, I’ll give you my keys and you can drive back to LA while I take care of your car.”
I take a step forward, my hand planting on the soft cotton of his shirt. His breath hitches beneath my touch.
“Or I could just take them.” My other hand plucks the keys from his now loose grip. I will say it’s satisfying seeing how I affect him. He may be my weakness, but I know I’m his too.
“That’s just playing dirty.” The words rumble out of him, his tone decadently rich, vibrating against my palm.
“I thought that’s how you like it. Dragging me around.
Playing games. Showing up here to ambush me.
” I find his hand again, pressing the keys back into his palm, the metal teeth digging into my skin.
His fingers curl, tangling with mine. Rough callouses scraping against my knuckles.
“But I’m not like you. I’ll stay and sing and talk,” I whisper, my eyes latching onto his, finding his pupils blown wide.
Electricity licks up my spine. “I’ll do all of it, just don’t expect me to like you after. ”
Breathless, I pat his chest and pull away, leaving him reeling in a state of heady shock. My lips curl in satisfaction. It’s nice being the one in charge for once.