Chapter Twelve
Hollie
They dated.
Until two hours ago, I was blissfully unaware of this fact.
Now the knowledge is messing with my head, like an out-of-control ear worm.
AJ dated Amber Bradshaw, and they got together after she kissed him at her graduation party. After pretending to be me, claiming she was the one to kiss him inside that stupid closet. And all because I was too shy to do anything about it.
I guess nobody bothered to enlighten him then.
Noah even said she was his girlfriend. He took her home to meet his mother.
I’m speechless. And maybe a teensy bit jealous.
It shouldn’t bother me. I know that. I never saw AJ after I saw him kissing Amber. I left for England the next day, and I never told him it was me, because I was too chicken. I fled the party. So why should I care what happened afterward? It’s my fault he never knew what really happened.
At least my suspicions have been confirmed. That it was Amber he’d wanted to kiss all along.
I yawn. The light is fading fast. I cannot believe we are back on the road already, and we’ve left Noah behind. I wriggle around in my seat, trying to get comfortable. Worse than that, it feels like my engine might be making funny noises.
Shit. It is making funny noises, and I seem to be losing power. What do I do?
AJ’s drifting further ahead on his bike.
Then there’s a loud BANG.
I squeal. For a moment, I lose control of the steering wheel, mainly for shock. Hitting the indicator, I break hard and pull over on the side of the road, gripping the curves of the wheel. My car comes screeching to an ugly sounding halt, smoke coming out of the hood.
I switch off the ignition, blink hard, then stare out of the windshield.
The skin strains over my knuckles. About fifty meters ahead of me, through the haze, I see AJ pull over on his bike.
He removes his helmet, and I see him look back in my direction.
I unbuckle myself and make a swift exit, suddenly convinced my car is going to burst into flames.
AJ’s running down the breakdown lane toward me.
‘I don’t know what happened,’ I blurt breathlessly when he reaches me, and now every time I look at him, all I can picture is he and Amber having vigorous sex. ‘It just started making odd noises.’
AJ grimaces and rubs his forehead. I know he needs to be getting back, and this situation isn’t ideal.
The smoke has lessened. It would appear my car isn’t about to explode. He points to the driver’s seat. ‘Pop your hood for me.’
I go back to the car and do as I’m told. I watch AJ remove his jacket and lower it to the ground. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing as I hit the release button. He reaches two hands under the hood, then lifts it.
I get back out and go to the front of the car.
More smoke billows out from underneath the hood and there’s a hissing sound.
AJ’s holding on with one assured arm above his head, surveying the damage and supporting the hood’s weight.
I’m met with his impressive bicep at eye level, the intricate tattoo inked around the circumference.
He waves his left hand over the engine, clearing the remnants of the smoke.
‘Can you see what’s wrong with it?’ I ask.
‘You got shitty car syndrome, that’s what,’ he says after a moment, unimpressed. He sighs, then points. ‘See that? Your fuel pressure regulator is screwed. That’s why your engine was making a weird noise.’
‘Can you fix it?’
‘I can, but not without tools or a new pressure regulator. Guessing you don’t have one of those in your trunk.’
‘Uh—’
He looks at me. ‘You got Triple A?’
‘I do, but it’s on my father’s account. I’d have to call him first. Then he’d know I was here, wherever here is. I’m guessing that’s not such a good idea.’
AJ lowers the hood, then closes the whole thing. He presses the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
‘What do we do?’ I ask. ‘Can you call Echo? Tell him you’ll be late back?’
‘I don’t have my phone. I left it in Rapture on purpose. Do you have yours?’
I nod my head.
‘You got data service?’
‘Of course.’
‘Your daddy pay for that too?’
My shoulders drop. He’s annoyed at me? Surely, I should be the one annoyed at him? ‘Look, if you need to get going, then you just go. I’ll sort my car out.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’m not leaving you here.’
If I use American phrases to Americans, it’s usually because I’m making a point. ‘Well, you seem pissed at me that you’re not going to get back to Echo on time.’
‘I’m not pissed at you. I do hate your car though.’
‘I told you, I can’t work in this country. I don’t have a green card.’
‘I get it. But if I don’t work, I don’t get paid. I don’t have a daddy to bail me out.’
My eyes widen at him. I can’t believe I’m hearing this, at the side of a busy highway, after everything I’ve done for him the past couple of days.
‘Look, just give me your phone,’ he says, holding out his palm. ‘I’ll see if I can find a local auto shop.’
I go and retrieve it from the passenger seat. Switch it on for him, then return to my car, watching him carry out a couple of searches then listen to the muffled sound of his voice as he makes three separate calls. When he hangs up, he comes and stands by the side of my open door.
‘There’s an auto shop in east Roswell that can help us out. Said they can tow it, then fit the new part first thing tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’
He runs a hand around the back of his neck. ‘Guess we’ll need to pitch up someplace overnight.’
I know for a fact he’s not happy about this. ‘What about Echo?’ I ask.
‘Echo’ll have to sit tight.’
I blow out my cheeks. ‘We would have been better off staying with your aunt.’
‘Point taken.’
We wait in the front seats of my car in silence, only the radio on low and the sound of other cars rushing by.
Within a few minutes, AJ is asleep, his sunglasses still on, his head tilted toward me and the sun setting behind him through the open window.
He hasn’t put his jacket on, so my gaze trails down his left bicep. It’s obvious he works out.
Then, my head snaps up and I click my tongue.
I can’t put myself through this. Being borderline obsessed with him and his irresistible physique.
Wondering what it might feel like to run my fingers through his hair.
And now, knowing that Amber was his actual girlfriend, all those feelings are now drenched in jealousy.
But what right do I have to be jealous? It’s not like he sees me in that way, at all. When we get back to Canyon, he’ll be gone. We won’t be exchanging numbers or seeing one another again, given who I am and who my stepmother is. So, I just need to get through tonight.
It’s practically dark by the time the tow truck arrives. I give AJ a nudge and he jolts awake.
‘We’ve been rescued,’ I say.
He takes off his sunglasses and squints through the windshield. ‘Was I asleep?’
‘For about twenty minutes.’
He gets out of the car and goes to see the driver.
For some minutes, AJ fills out some documentation on a tablet, then escorts the driver of the truck over to the hood of my car.
He flicks his fingers at me to pop the hood for a second time.
I comply, then hear the two men converse, and after a few minutes, the driver gets to work securing my car to be towed away.
‘Do I stay with my car?’ I ask as I get out.
AJ picks up his jacket. ‘The guy’s given me the name of a motel opposite the auto shop. We can stay there, then pick up the car in the morning.’
‘So—’
‘So, you’ll have to ride with me.’
‘What?’
‘Get on the back of my Honda. You know, two-up.’
Sweat breaks out on my upper lip. I swiftly wipe it away. ‘I’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle before.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll give you my helmet.’
‘Don’t you need it?’
‘If my mom or Aunt Rita knew I was taking a girl for a ride on my motorcycle and I didn’t give her the only helmet, believe me, there’d be hell to pay.’
I swallow. He had me at taking a girl for a ride.
‘We can wait for the truck,’ he says, and starts walking back up the breakdown lane. ‘Give the guy your key.’
I retrieve my bag from the back of my car, then hand the fob over to the truck driver. AJ and I stand side by side, watching my car as it’s attached to the ancient-looking truck. When the driver is ready to leave, he gives us a thumbs up. I pick up my bag again and follow AJ over to his motorcycle.
In the darkness, he pats the rear saddle. I look down.
‘I’m supposed to fit on there?’ I question.
‘If Reyes can fit his pert little tush on there, so can you. You’ll be fine.’ He hands me his helmet. ‘It’s not for long. Put your bag on your back and put this on.’
I sling my bag straps over my shoulders then tentatively reach for his helmet. When I pull it over my head, the scent of him invades my nose. It’s like rubbing my face in his freshly-worn T-shirt and for a moment, I lose myself in it.
He lifts the visor for me. ‘Okay, basics,’ he says. ‘Feet on the footpegs. Arms around my waist to hold on. I lean, you lean, but don’t overdo it.’
My heart is beating fast. ‘That’s it?’
‘Relax. We’re only riding a couple miles. I’ll go slow.’
I don’t think he can see me swallow my nerves.
He swings his leg over the bike first, leans down to turn a key then flicks on his lights.
He switches something down on the handlebars before lifting the kickstand and pressing a second button to start the engine.
He signals that I should get on behind him.
I place my right foot on the foot peg, then swing my left leg over, shimmying into position. Beneath me, the bike rumbles.