Chapter 3 Lewis
I keep my eyes on her back until she disappears out of sight. My instinct was right. She definitely has an amazing ass. In any other situation, I would’ve offered to take her out sometime. But…
That whole conversation was weird as hell.
I did a pretty good job, though. Or, at least, I think I did.
I shared the most fucked-up stories I could think of, and I pushed her buttons by smearing my fingers all over her Pontiac.
There’s no way she’s saying yes now. No way!
Especially not after that whole scene when she bent me over her car.
I glance over at the Firebird, scanning for traces of my cheek against the bodywork.
Damn. The girl has an iron grip; I’ll give her that.
It’d almost be a turn-on, if I weren’t trying so damn hard to shake her off.
I slope back over to the gang, rubbing my shoulder as I go.
“Did she just whip your ass?” Carrie grins.
“I need a friend like that.” Lois nods. “She’s our very own superhero.”
“She nearly broke my arm,” I mutter.
Carrie cackles. “She nearly broke your spine, you mean.”
I glare at them. “Thanks for the backup, guys.”
“Hey, you must’ve said something pretty messed-up to trigger her like that.”
“Yeah, Adam’s right—what exactly did you say to her?”
“Relax, Carrie.” I hold up a hand. “I was just telling her what life’s really like as a Campus Driver, that’s all.”
“I saw you touch her car,” Lane interrupts, shooting me a disapproving look. “Not cool, man. That’s like touching a random guy’s dick.”
“I touched a random guy’s dick,” Lois says, wiggling her eyebrows. She catches Lane’s eye. “What! You were basically random.”
“They said ‘dick,’ ” Don whispers to Carrie.
I sigh. “You guys are exhausting.”
“So, anyway—is she in?” Adam asks.
“Sorry, dude, I couldn’t make out her reply, what with my head slammed up against a car, and all.”
I rifle back through my memory. She didn’t say a word, I realize. I’m pretty sure if she’d been interested, she would’ve made it clear.
“What’s her name?”
“No idea.”
Don rolls his eyes. “In other words, you went on a mission and came back totally empty-handed?”
“Listen…”
“No, you listen. You need to start taking this shit seriously, Lewis. Dragging your feet isn’t going to make this go away—you get that, right?”
I start fake crying. “Don’t yell at me!” I pause to think. “I’ll do better next time, I swear. I’ll work on my spiel.”
At some point. Maybe. In a year or two.
I take a few steps back. “I need to get going. Practicals in twenty. See you back at base after practice? We can talk more then.”
“Sure.” My roomie smiles. “I’ll tell you about the two guys I’ve got my eye on. You free tonight, Lane?”
“Yup.” Lane glances at his girlfriend. “How ’bout you?”
“I’ll bring smoothies!” Lois nods.
I glance over at Carrie. “What’re you bringing to the party?”
“It’s a real shame, but I’m going to book club.”
“Come by later, then. You can read us one of your porny bedtime stories.” I wink.
“Sure.” She shrugs. “I’m reading one about a succubus who kills men in their sleep. I think you’ll really relate.”
I pull a face. “You’re really selling the girlfriend thing.”
I HEAD INTO MY MODELING workshop and spend a couple of hours working on the mock-up for my tree house cabin. This is one of my favorite classes, where we roll up our sleeves and hone the hard skills we’ll be needing as architects and designers.
I’m planning on starting up my own cabin business, just like Dad.
I mean, the goal is to get drafted into the NBA first, but I need to think ahead and cover my bases—figure out what I’ll do after that.
Basketball players don’t stay pro forever—you need to know when it’s time to check out, plus you never know when injury can strike…
and I’m the kind of guy who has a plan B, a plan C, and possibly even a plan D.
“Nice work, Conley. Maybe take another look at that angle.”
The teacher gives me a quick pat on the shoulder before wandering off.
At the start, she just kind of assumed I was a jock, but she quickly realized she’d misjudged me. No hard feelings—I’m used to it. People don’t usually expect me to be as focused as I actually am. When I set my heart on something, I really go for it.
Site planning class and lunch fly by, and by the time I head to my car, I’m swiping right on my next ride.
The guy is already waiting for me in the parking lot.
I double-check his profile pic in the app.
Yup—definitely him. I unlock the doors and usher him to the back seat before firing up the engine.
“How’s life, Amir?”
“Good. You?”
“With a car like this, life feels pretty sweet!”
“Hell yes!” He nods eagerly. “I’ve got a Dodge, too. Not a Challenger, though. A 1972 Charger. A real fireball.”
“For real?”
“Yup. Midnight blue. Sick ride.”
“You keep it on campus?”
“No, I left it back home. I’m planning on driving it back up after Christmas. I miss driving.”
I glance at my passenger in the rearview mirror. Neat and tidy. Smiley, yet non-creepy. The most amazing idea just came careening round the bend, leaving Firebird in the dust. I smile to myself. The guys want a heavy hitter? I’ve got just the dude.
“You a freshman?”
He nods.
“The Campus Drivers are hiring, you know. You’d be starting in September. Interested?”
His eyes widen. “Wow. I mean, that’s insane. I’d be down, but I’d need to get my class schedule first…”
Organized, too. He’s perfect.
“For sure. It’s all about that work-life balance.
” I nod. “How about this—I drop you where you need to be, and on the way, I’ll tell you a little about how we roll.
You can tell me about yourself and then just go and think things through.
” I smile at him encouragingly. “Then, once you’ve got your car back in January, we can talk business. ”
“Sounds great!”
I spend a solid fifteen minutes chatting to Amir, and he feels like the right fit.
He’d make an amazing driver. Plus, the guy drives a Dodge.
We’re basically made for each other. He speaks three languages and doesn’t drink.
Daddy Don is going to fall hard for him.
Don’t get me wrong, Firebird is cool and everything.
But if there’s one thing I hate, it’s being told what to do.
Once I’ve walked my new trainee through the details and dropped him off, I head to the gym. I’d been planning on squeezing in another couple of rides but decide against it—I definitely can’t roll up late for practice.
MY FAVORITE TEAMMATE CORNERS ME in the locker room, frowning as he peels off his T-shirt. “What’s with the good mood?”
“It’s a surprise,” I singsong. “I’ll tell you tonight.”
Don shoots me a suspicious look, but he knows better than to push it—he knows I won’t crack. I get changed and trot over to the court, where our assistant coach is waiting for us, whistle clenched between his teeth.
“Just a month to go until Dad’s back out on the streets.” Don sighs.
His dad would normally be here coaching us, but ever since his heart attack in June, he’s been on bed rest—or bed arrest, more like.
I grab a ball and toss it to my roomie.
“I can’t wait. There’s no one like Coach Wolinski. I mean, Williams is great, but he’s got zero sense of humor. Absolute disgrace, dude.”
“I heard that, Conley!” the coach yells over.
“Just joshing, Coach!” I laugh, before dropping my voice. “Like I said… Zero sense of humor.”
“We’re playing Iowa on Sunday,” Coach Williams growls. “Shit is about to get very real for you guys.”
“And he’s got a potty mouth—”
“Ten laps around the court, Conley.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, come on!”
“Make that twenty,” he snaps.
“I’m—”
“Thirty.”
I start to run. Williams was a prison warden in a past life, I’m sure of it. I can feel his eyes burning into my back, and when I try to slope back to the team after my twenty-first lap, he’s straight on my case.
A million drills later, and Don and I head back home to collapse onto the couch. Lois is already elbow-deep in blender blitzing.
The girl needs help.
“Make it stop, Lane!” I call over. “I literally can’t hear myself think!”
“I didn’t realize that was something you did,” Lois screeches over the grinding.
Don nudges me. “So, what was that surprise you mentioned?”
“You’re not gonna believe it…”
“What’s going on?” Adam asks, easing into the space beside me.
I grin, savoring every second of the cliff-hanger. “You guys sitting comfortably?”
Don raises an eyebrow. “Looks that way.”
Lois appears in front of us, balancing a tray of smoothies in her hands.
“That looks amazing,” Lane says unconvincingly.
I roll my eyes. “Are you guys ready for this, or are we gonna spend the night talking fruit?”
“You’re unstable, dude,” Lois mutters, sucking on her straw.
“I’ve found my trainee,” I start.
Don splutters on his smoothie. I shoot Lois a meaningful look.
“You’ve found a trainee?” he repeats.
“Yessir.”
Lane cocks an eyebrow. “I didn’t even know he was looking for one. I thought it was gonna be Firebird.”
“Did she say no?” Adam asks.
I shrug. “No idea. The point is, I found the perfect student for us. His name’s Amir, and get this—he drives a Dodge, too!”
This would be the perfect time for confetti, but we’re all out of toilet paper.
“I’m gonna check back in with him in January. Isn’t that great?” I beam.
I was expecting a round of applause and a group hug at the very least, but the silence is deafening.
“This is the part where you guys clap,” I prompt.
Lane frowns. “What about the girl, though?”
“Adam can take her.”
Adam shakes his head. “Adam already has a trainee.”
“And you need to finish what you started,” Don says.
“I didn’t start shit.”
“You spoke to her.”
“Because you forced me to. Shit, guys. I tell you I’ve found an amazing driver, and your response is to just carry on breaking my balls over some girl?” I suck my teeth. “She’s not interested, anyway. I’d bet money on it.”
“How’d you figure that, with your face smooshed into her car?”