24. Dane
24
DANE
Once Sergei passes me the keys, I hand him a wad of cash. My attention goes straight to my latest acquisition. It’s a late-sixties white convertible that’s seen better days.
The muscle car desperately needs a new paint job, but the real challenge is what’s inside. The stock engine’s completely jacked up, and there’s a likely chance I’ll have to gut the whole damn thing.
“Pleasure doing business with you, kid.”
I grunt in acknowledgment as he swaggers off, and I’m quick to slide behind the wheel the moment he’s gone. At least the interior has remained in pristine condition.
The girl’s a beaut, but it’s also an automatic. I’ve got nothing against them. I just like driving cars the way they’re meant to be driven: by shifting the gears yourself.
The vehicle stalls when I start it. My second attempt doesn't fare any better. On my third try, the V8 engine sputters for a small eternity before a steady roar fills the air.
I breathe out a relieved sigh.
Since Marco dropped me off on his way to catch the waves, I don’t have to deal with the logistical nightmare of transporting this beaut back to my garage.
However, it’s the last thing on my mind. Taking a detour, I head straight to the other side of campus and pull into the staff parking lot. It’s right in front of the Music Building, and the closest spot I can find to the bookstore.
Checking the time on my phone, I sit back and wait for Reese to emerge. I saw her schedule while dropping her off at her apartment the other day. Her whiteboard calendar listed closing shifts for the entire week. I don’t like the idea of her waiting at a bus stop this late, especially with the number of campus crime alerts ramping up this semester.
She’s too delicate and gentle to put up a fight, and she freezes up so easily when spooked. When it comes to defending yourself, every second counts.
Before long, she exits the bookstore. I immediately lay on the horn. She startles and casts a bewildered glance my way.
Right. I roll the window down and click my tongue twice. It’s a long minute before she groans.
“Oh my God.”
Waving goodbye to her coworkers, she jogs over to me and folds her arms across her generous rack. I silently thank the inventor of tight sweaters and shoot her my most charming grin.
She stares at me, unfazed. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I go here,” I tease.
She doesn’t let up. Not a muscle in her face moves as she sighs. “I know that. Why are you here right now?”
“What else? I’m giving you a lift home.”
“I can take the bus.”
Frowning, I poke my head out and peer up at the inky night sky. It’s so fucking dark that the dim campus lamps barely light up the area around us.
Someone could get away with lurking in the shadows. My chest constricts at the thought. More so when my gaze cuts back to her and lingers on her neck. I wish she’d tell me what happened to her, but it’s not my place to ask.
Believe me, I’m the last person on earth to give her shit about it. If she ever wants to talk about her scar, I’ll be all ears. But until then, I won’t bring it up.
“As long as I’m in the picture, you can get a ride from me.”
The innuendo isn’t lost on her. With an exasperated laugh, she pokes my cheek, hitches her backpack over her shoulder, and flounces to the passenger side.
There’s a flush to her skin as she shuts the door behind her. I’m about to throw the vehicle in reverse when she scoots over and plants a kiss on my temple.
“ Lower , Reese’s Pieces.” I’m met with an instant glare.
“I have a bus pass, and I’m not afraid to use it,” she threatens with an adorable little scowl. Then she yelps when the tires screech as I peel out of the parking spot. “Who taught you how to drive?”
“Self-taught.” I ease my foot off the gas as we inch toward an intersection.
Clutching her chest, she gives me a sidelong glance. “Maybe you should teach yourself again.”
I snicker. “Aw, baby, you wound me. I’ll be the safest driver you’ll ever ride with.”
“ Within the speed limit?”
I make a show of gesturing to the speedometer when the lights turn green. “Christ, that electric scooter is going faster than us.”
“You’ll thank me when we get there safe and sound.”
“Even that bicyclist is faster,” I cajole. “You think that jogger back there will beat us to the next stop?”
She barely conceals her huff of laughter and pokes me in the arm. “Is this car new?”
“You bet your sweet ass it is.” I run my hand over the steering wheel. “Gonna fix her up real nice and get some chump change out of her.”
“So, you do fix cars for a living.” Accusation drips in her tone.
“It’s more of a hobby,” I correct. “A thing I do in my spare time. I don’t have the space to keep every car I come across.”
“Huh.” She turns toward me. “How much spare time do you have, exactly?”
“Plenty when you don’t worry about showing up for lectures.” I flash her a wolfish grin and refocus my gaze on the crumbling road. There are too many potholes the city has done fuck all to fix, and I don’t want to add suspensions to my list of things I need to deal with.
Far too soon, the convertible pulls up to the curb. It won’t be long before she exits the vehicle and our short time together comes to an end.
“Any reason why they don’t close the gates?”
“I think they’re broken,” she muses.
My forehead tightens with a frown. Sure, they were useful when I was ditching the cops, but still.
“This area is safe,” she assures me. “It looks a little sketchy, but everyone leaves you alone. Just because it looks bad doesn’t mean it is bad.”
My brow slowly lifts. “We still talking about the gates here?”
Her mouth pulls into a sweet smile. “I hope you make some excellent chump change.”
“It’ll take some time before I’m able to get rid of her.” I tip my chin. “You haven’t seen what’s under the hood. Lots of test drives await me.”
“Ooh. Let me know if you’ll be driving along the coast.” She holds up her phone. “I’d love to ride shotgun.”
“For your fiesta, right?”
“Finsta.”
I grin. Messing with her has become my second hobby. “Something about the golden shower?”
She splutters and playfully nudges my arm. “Golden hour . Good bye , Dane.”
With that, she pockets her cell. She glances back at me and hesitates before she leans over to kiss my cheek. I curve my palm around her wrist and tug her closer, bringing my mouth to hers without a second to waste.
She melts into me as she takes my lower lip between her teeth, teasing me with a tantalizing flick of her tongue. Abruptly, she pulls away before it can escalate further, and I groan something feral at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry. I have an engineering project due, or else…”
“Say no more, Mini Reese.” I slide my hand behind her neck and draw her back in. Her breathing hitches as my teeth scrape a sensitive spot behind her ear, and she clutches the front of my shirt while I suck gently at the tender skin.
I want to hoist her onto my lap. See how loud she can get with just my mouth and tongue. Christen every inch of this vehicle. Instead, I reluctantly let her go, then glance down when I feel her trace something on my chest.
A heart. She’s drawing a heart over my heart.
“Again, Reese is my nickname,” she whispers and sneaks a kiss on my lips. Her eyes have that starry glow to them when she finally pulls away.
Oddly dazed, I barely register my intake of breath or the steady thrum in my ears as she climbs out and shuts the door behind her. She spares me a sweet smile before she heads off to the gate.
That sweet smile brightens when I scramble out of the car and quickly catch up with her, but it’s no match for the look she gives me as she steps inside her apartment. It takes every last ounce of my self-control not to do anything more than bend down for one last kiss.
She offers me a little wave and shuts the door.
Crossing my arms, I wait sixty seconds just to ensure there aren’t any creeps lurking nearby. Once I get visual confirmation that nothing appears out of the ordinary and my chest feels at ease, I return to the convertible and set off for my garage.