Chapter 6
MORTIFICATION AND OTHER POSSIBLE EXPOSURE SIDE-EFFECTS
The question landed like an asteroid impact between us, even with his level tone. He’d trained a stare on me that was so direct and stripping, it momentarily froze me in place.
God, I considered answering him, too.
My lips parted, and the words welled up. Something about the way he was looking at me expectantly—as if he already knew what I was going to say—made me want to tell him. To spill my guts and all my too-insane conspiracy theories come to life.
I leaned toward the center console.
And then I stiffened.
No. No, I’d already made the mistake of yapping to Sky about UFOs once tonight. I wasn’t about to go two for two. Besides, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t absolutely, irrevocably positive that was what I’d seen.
And if I was going to spout that kind of thing to the man I’d been pining after for the better part of a year, I’d better be pretty damn positive.
Swallowing, I straightened, clutching my apron tighter in my lap. “I’m not really sure. It all happened so fast. Probably just…an animal. Or a trick of the light. I’m tired. Dinner rush was crazy today. And I’ve got midterms. Lots of studying.”
I trailed off, remembering too late how much I sucked at lying.
Amelia always said I advertised my emotions like a walking, talking billboard. I fought hard to meet Sky’s eyes, hoping my poker face was better than usual tonight.
His skeptical expression told me it wasn’t. For a second, I thought he might call me on the meandering lie. His gaze stayed on mine, sharpening slightly. A far-too-astute study that threatened to peel back the layers of my barely-there composure.
There was something beneath it. Something calculating. Something that breathed a ghost of wariness over my nape.
But he only sat back without a word. Didn’t push.
I turned away, too, pretending to study the snaking tire tracks illuminated by the flickering emergency lights.
I couldn’t lie to myself, though. I’d seen something.
The seat squeaked as Sky shifted again. I turned my head just in time to see him nod at my knee.
“By the way, you’re bleeding.”
I was? Pressing my thighs together instinctively under the offensively neon-green dress, I followed his gaze, surprised to find he was right.
I must’ve scraped my kneecap open when I’d banged it on the doorframe after the crash.
The small cut trickled a thin rivulet of red down my shin.
My whole leg was filthy, a mess of drying blood and dirt from the ditch.
I’d probably left a Rae-sized smudge on his shiny leather seat.
Embarrassed, I tugged at the hem of my skirt, grimacing. “Sorry. I didn’t notice…”
The apology faded when he leaned over me to open the glove box. The movement brought him close. So close I felt his body heat and nearly let it out as another baby chicken squeak. Luckily, Sky didn’t seem to notice.
He pulled out a handful of napkins and a small red box, then shut the compartment again. The back of his forearm brushed the top of my thigh as he withdrew, just a quick, accidental touch, but still enough to send a wave of tingles through me.
He didn’t react.
God, I was really that hard up for attention. An incidental graze, and my stomach felt like a down pillow had exploded in there.
Looking as cool and collected as ever, Sky eased back into his seat and extended the bundle across the center console. The dim light made it hard to read his face, but his voice was calm, perfectly polite. “You can clean it up with that if you want. There should be some antiseptic wipes in there.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I murmured, looking down at what he’d given me.
The little red box turned out to be a mini first-aid kit. Sky Acosta carried a tiny first-aid kit in his glove box. How…responsible of him. Did Oasis’s mysterious bartender often find himself patching up crazy girls on the road? Or was I just special?
I barely managed to stifle my snort and instead focused on setting my things aside. While I busied myself wiping off my knee with the tiny moist towelette, Sky reversed onto the road again, flipping off the emergency lights.
The next song that came on was darker, a heavier beat thrumming through the speakers.
“Where to?” he asked over it.
“Cherry Street.” I balled up the wipe. The gash had stopped bleeding, at least, though I couldn’t do much about the grime. “415 Cherry. The blue house across from Franklin Park.”
He nodded, eyes on the road.
I leaned back into the seat, the leather warm now beneath me thanks to the heater. I hadn’t realized how cold I was before. I could get used to this. Faith was a few decades too old to have butt warmers.
As Sky drove us down the winding country road, back toward the glow of town, I scanned the sky.
Nothing. No multicolored fireballs. No pulsing orbs. No signs of anything out of the ordinary. Only stars and moonlight.
Could I really have imagined the whole thing? Maybe Kelly had gotten under my skin more than I’d thought. Maybe the stress of midterms, work, and life had finally broken me.
But I hadn’t imagined the heat of the pavement. My fingertips tingled at the memory of touching it.
“So…class?” Sky asked suddenly.
I jumped, whipping my head his way. “Sorry—what?”
He glanced over with a raised brow. “You said you had class in the morning. And you’d mentioned studying, too. Are you at TWU?”
“Oh.” I fiddled with the edge of my apron. “Yeah, I go to Willow. I’m majoring in anthropology…well, archaeology, eventually.”
“Archaeology, huh?”
I braced for the usual judgment, waving the hand holding the crumpled-up wipe. “I know, I know. It’s hard to find a job. Doesn’t pay well. I’ll have to get a master’s—”
“I was going to say it’s cool.”
“Oh.” I eyed him. He was still looking ahead, but a smile played over his lips. They were nice lips. I stared at them because he was distracted and why not?
“It’s a fascinating field,” he said, with another quick look my way.
I tore my gaze from his mouth when his small smile deepened, revealing that rogue dimple in his right cheek that shouldn’t be wielded around small children.
He turned his head back toward the road. “Do you have an area of specialty?”
My brain seemed to catch on then, and I realized he was…asking me about myself.
Was this real life? Had I died back on that road and this was heaven?
My cheeks heated again, and not the ones cozied into his seat warmer. “Not yet. I’ve been leaning toward cultural anthropology. I don’t know. I find studying different cultures interesting. It’s like…looking into a different world.”
We reached the edge of town. Stadium lights from the high school’s football field bordered on blinding after the country dark. The SUV rolled to a halt at a stop sign.
Sky was quiet for a beat. I glanced over, half-expecting him to look horrified with boredom. But instead he tilted his head a little and said, “It is interesting.”
Then we were moving again, and he was driving, which was a good thing because I was gawking at him.
It was just small talk. Polite chatter. You know, the kind a bartender like him did all the time to keep those tips flowing. This didn’t mean anything. He was only doing me a favor and filling the awkward silence.
His…interest couldn’t be real. Even if I desperately wanted it to be.
It sobered me. I watched the houses blur past, quiet and draped in the deep night’s shadows. When they got even more familiar, I leaned forward.
“It’s that blue house there on the corner,” I murmured, pointing.
He took his foot off the gas, and we slowed. “Your parents?”
“My what?” I frowned at him.
“Is this your parents’ house?”
“Oh. No.” I smiled a little and gathered my things. “I rent the apartment over the garage.”
“Cool.”
He pulled up beside the small two-story with its overgrown yard. I needed to mow before Bob tried to do it.
Speaking of the cranky old man, the porch light glowed warmly. He must’ve left it on for me. Classic Bob. My little apartment over the garage was dark, waiting.
“Thanks again,” I told Sky, tucking that loose strand of hair behind my ear again as I juggled my purse, apron, and dead phone.
I reached for the handle, pushed the door open, went to step out—
—and forgot the damn seat belt.
I yelped when it snapped taut and yanked me back into the seat.
To his credit, Sky didn’t laugh. He didn’t say anything, in fact, as he leaned over and pressed the release, freeing me. The belt hissed like a snake as it retracted.
I muttered another thank you, avoided eye contact, and shifted to climb free before I could do anything else to embarrass myself.
Apparently, the options were endless tonight.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, the quiet question stopping me before I could escape.
Bracing myself, I turned to face him. In the streetlight’s soft glow, his eyes sparkled the deepest, jeweled blue. He rested a wrist casually on the steering wheel and hit me with a direct, unblinking look.
And then he completely rocked my world.
“Do you want my number?” he asked. “In case you can’t find anyone to get you to your car tomorrow. I’ve got jumper cables at home, and I don’t clock in until seven for the late shift. I can help.”
Did I want his what?
His number? Like…the one to his phone? That number?
Fiery blood rushed from my chest to the tips of my ears. My brain lagged behind my mouth, which was moving and betraying me—
“No. No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t want your number.”
The silence that followed was nothing short of catastrophic.
I went rigid, wide-eyed.
Too late. It was too late to take the words back. I’d just said no.
Maybe if I stayed perfectly still, the moment would glitch and reset. Maybe if I focused hard enough, the universe would rewind.
But today, on the shittiest of all days, I wasn’t that lucky.
Sky blinked, clearly thrown. His mouth opened, then closed, as if he didn’t quite believe what he’d heard. But after a beat, he shook his head and gave me a crooked half-smile. Bemused. Maybe even a little impressed. “Right. Sure. Okay,” he said lightly. “Well…I’ll see you around then, Rae.”
Oh my God.
I’d just turned down his number.
I wanted to throw myself across the center console and scream, “I meant yes! My alter ego Rachel said no!” But it was too late to backpedal without making it worse.
My skin burned, and my heartbeat did a tap-dance of doom.
“Thanks again,” I managed to choke out before scrambling from the car like it was on fire right along with the rest of my life. I nearly dropped my pile of things, but I managed to hang on as I shouldered the door shut. I practically sprinted across the street, tripping a little on the curb.
Sky’s SUV idled behind me, purring like a patient cat. He hadn’t pulled away yet, and I was hyper-aware of him watching me.
Staring, probably. Wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I wished I had that answer.
I fumbled with my keys as I reached the stairwell door, my hand shaking as I jammed the correct one into the deadbolt. I slipped inside without a backward glance.
Only when the door shut behind me did I hear the low rumble of his SUV rolling away. He’d waited until I got inside.
Like a gentleman.
I leaned back against the door and shut my eyes, groaning.
I’d seen a UFO.
I’d wrecked my car.
And for some reason, for some unknown and completely idiotic reason, I’d told Sky Acosta I didn’t want his phone number.
What a freaking day.
But…he’d called me Rae. There was that. I snorted a breathless laugh.
At least he’d remembered my name.