Chapter 20 Amy
I have no idea what just happened. On the plus side, I didn’t get another “This can’t happen again” talk. That doesn’t make anything clearer, though. He wants me to call him whenever I feel like I’m about to lose my shit? Is that what he just said?
Jesus. You can expect multiple calls a day, then.
Once he’s disappeared out of sight, I head back up to the apartment, expecting to find Raven and Charlotte hovering in the doorway with their arms folded. If I’d remembered to take my key, I could’ve slipped around the back and avoided them. As it is, I’m going to have to face the music.
“You are so predictable,” I sigh when I find them exactly as expected.
“A basketball player, huh?” Raven grins.
“ ‘Campus Drivers’?” Charlotte’s eyes are shining.
“And he spent the night…”
“You thinking what I’m thinking, Ravy?”
“We tie him up in the basement? Get the cattle prod out?”
“Honey, it’s finally happened. Amy has become a real live college girl!” Charlotte scoops me into her arms.
I shove her away. “Urgh! Boundaries, people!”
“Bullshit!” Raven screeches.
“Just ignore your sister, sweetie.” Charlotte smiles at me. “I’m so happy you finally made a friend who doesn’t look like an organ harvester.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
I manage to prize myself out of their clutches, darting between them and racing past Joey. He’s sitting there with his eyes locked on the screen, riveted by a parade of singing cartoon characters. I clench my jaw. What kind of sick fuck comes up with this stuff?
I fix myself more coffee, bracing for Raven to circle back for another shot.
“Make me one?” she pleads, dragging out a chair.
“That all you got?”
She pats her belly. “This little guy is slowing me down.”
I carry the coffeepot over and pour her a mug.
“Anyway, my curiosity is winning out.” She takes a sip. “What exactly have you got going on with Lewis?”
“He’s just training me up to be a Campus Driver,” I say, as casually as I can.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it literally just happened, Raven. It wasn’t a sure deal.”
“I don’t like it when you go all secretive on me.”
“We’re not in Brooklyn anymore.”
She thinks for a moment, stirring her coffee absent-mindedly. “You sure you can handle it on top of your classes? I know you’re worried about money, but we’re doing just fine, you know…”
“I live here,” I protest. “I want to help out.”
“I never asked you to—especially not if it messes with your studies. Just two years to go, and you’ll be graduating.”
“Don’t worry about it. Lewis is really on it, and if he can handle the driving, plus his basketball, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I really, really want to be a Campus Driver, and it’ll look good on my record—the dean loves these guys.”
“You’ll need to be on your best behavior, you know.”
She flashes me a sweet smile, and I roll my eyes.
“Man, one coffee with Lewis, and you’re sounding just like him!” I look at her for a moment. “Feeling better about it now?”
“There’s something else.”
“Of course there is!” I sigh.
She pauses. “I don’t know how to say this…”
“So, maybe don’t?” I start rinsing out my cup.
“You like the guy. So, I’m wondering whether—”
“Back up, Raven! I’m begging you… Please don’t go there.”
“I’m your big sister, Amy!” she protests. “Remember?”
“How could I ever forget?”
I’m dying inside—this is beyond awkward.
“I know what you’re like,” she continues. “I know what you’re like with men. You always find a way to keep them in check, but I was watching you earlier, and you were… different.”
“Because I’d just woken up? You know I hate mornings.”
I know she doesn’t believe a single word I’m saying. I glance down at her hands—she’s playing the world’s smallest violin.
“Stop! Your fingers look like wieners, by the way.”
“They’re just bloated because I’m pregnant!”
“Or because you’re fat.”
She opens her mouth to snap back at me but changes her mind. “Don’t change the subject, smart-ass.”
I could open up to her about Lewis—tell her exactly how he makes me feel. Maybe she could give me some insight, but… I feel myself clamming up. It’s stupid, but when you’ve kept the same vibe going for so long, the sense that you’re growing into someone else feels weird. Embarrassing, almost.
“Sorry, sis—but no guy will ever get me twirling my hair and acting like a lovesick teen and shit.”
“You’re right. No guy can fix that for you. Only you can.” She points to my chest.
“Are you saying I need a boob job?”
She sighs. “You’re exhausting. Go to your room.”
“Preach, sister!”
Just as I’m walking away, she calls out to me.
“When you’re ready to talk about it, Amy—really talk about it, I mean—you know where to find me.”
I nod.
“And don’t you dare talk it through with Charlotte before coming to me!”
“Hey, I’m her stepsister-in-law!” Charlotte says as she steps out of the bathroom.
“Okay, checking out now.” I hold my hands up. “Don’t wanna get involved in a domestic dispute.”
I’M HANGING AROUND THE GYM, waiting for my next one-on-one with Lewis.
He’s doing the driving today—apparently all I need to do is sit back and observe.
I don’t really get what the big deal is.
I mean, how hard can it be, driving students from A to B?
I’ve had this kind of gig before, albeit in completely different circumstances.
I shrug to myself. Who cares? The point is, I can’t wait to see him.
I miss him and his dumbass ways. He’s all I can think about.
A horn blares out, and when I see the Dodge slowing to a halt right in front of me, my heart skips a beat.
I haven’t seen him since our breakfast date with my sister, so I’m a little on edge as I stroll over to his door, and when he rolls the window down, my pulse quickens.
I still don’t know exactly what makes him different from all the other guys.
He’s clearly not my type—but I’m feeling him, all the same.
He slides his shades down his nose, and there’s a darkness in his eyes that catches me off guard.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He frowns. “Why?”
“You seem off. Like you just killed someone.”
“All good.”
He’s bullshitting me—and I know that because lying is like a second language to me.
I’m impressed I can read his moods so fluently, though.
That’s new for me. Most of my peers bore me, but I could spend hours peeling back his layers—I’m starting to realize that the more I get to know him, the better I get to know myself.
“Let’s go,” he says curtly. “I’ve got a scrimmage with a local team as soon as we’re done here.”
“Do you ever have a day off?”
“Nope.”
He shoves his sunglasses back into place, and as I head around to the passenger seat, my mind is racing. I recognize this vibe—he’s acting the way he has whenever he’s been mad at me. I double back and lean down into his window.
“If today’s not a good day, we could always reschedule.”
He seems to think for a moment, and I brace myself for the letdown.
“No.” He meets my gaze. “I think it’ll do me good to get out of my head for an hour.”
“You sure?”
He nods. “The championship is a big deal—it’s kind of tearing me up. I’m a little stressed-out today, you’re right. But it’s nothing to do with you.” He pats the seat beside him. “Plus, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I shudder. “Okay, maybe we do need that rain check, after all.”
“In the car. Now. And that’s an order.”
I arch an eyebrow at him, and he starts to laugh.
That’s better.
Once I’m settled in my seat, he grabs a plastic bag from the back and tosses it into my lap.
“Just for you.”
He sounds cheery, and I shoot him a quick glance. When he gets into Campus Driver mode, he does an amazing job of putting on a brave face, and I hope I manage to do the same.
I turn back to my gift, opening the bag and peeking inside. All I can see is some kind of cloth. And it’s pink. I recoil. Scratch that—it’s the grossest pink I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’m starting to get a very bad feeling about this.
“Nope.” I shake my head.
“You haven’t even looked at it yet…”
“The answer’s still no.”
I pluck the T-shirt out of the bag, shaking it open and letting out a “Fuck no” when I see the lettering.
“This is all part of your onboarding, Firebird.”
“Am I being hazed?”
“I would never do that to you!”
I flash him a withering look, and he pulls an angel face in response. “Die,” I mouth.
“It’s symbolic—a meaningful token to mark the start of something life-changing.”
“That’s so moving.” I pretend to wipe away a tear. “These are tears of terror, by the way. Have you seen the color of this thing?”
“Hey, you wore a redneck hat on New Year’s Eve—now all of a sudden you have standards?” He grins. “Did you see the back?”
I turn it over.
“ ‘Property of Lewis Conley.’ ”
“It even rhymes!” he says gleefully.
I’m finding it hard not to crack a smile, but there’s no way I’m giving him the satisfaction. I pull on my candy-pink trainee T-shirt and fasten my seat belt.
“So hot.” He bites down on his fist.
“One more word, and I’m using it to strangle you.”
“It actually does suit you—I knew I should’ve gotten the matching cap.”
“I guess there’s always next Christmas.”
“If you play your cards right, I might get you the head-to-toe look.” He claps his hands together. “Okay, let’s do this. Baby’s first trip.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.”
“That’s the spirit, Firebird.”
I’m expecting to feel the way I usually do in a passenger seat—awkward and weirdly embarrassed. But with Lewis next to me, I’m buzzing. Plus, there’s the sexy elephant in the room. I have no idea where we’re headed together—guess I’m just a passenger in more ways than one.
He slots his phone into its holder, swipes the screen, and pulls up the app.
“Remember what I showed you the other day? This is where you flag that you’re open to requests. Add a shift start and end time, and the app automatically checks which rides you can take. If a trip is cutting it a little close, it’s redirected to another driver.”
He taps the screen, and a few seconds later, a notification pops up.
“Off we go! See here? We’re picking up SexyBikini a mile away and dropping her off two miles west.”
I curl my lip. “SexyBikini?”
“Don’t be so judgy, Amy. What happened to girl power?”
“I didn’t say anything! I love sexy bikinis!”
And I love the way he just glanced at me even more.
“I hope I get that level of passenger, too,” I continue. “GangstaBigGuns, maybe. BareBackJack.”
“What did we say about gangsters, Amy Hitman?”
“Not cool.”
“You’re not relapsing, are you?” He eyes me. “Remember what happened last time you did that?”
I shake my head. “Guess it wasn’t all that memorable. Oh, wait a sec!”
I whip out an imaginary phone and hold it to my ear, and he stares at me, confused.
“You gonna pick up?” I snap. “You said to call you whenever I start spiraling—remember?”
His face brightens and he plays along, waiting a few seconds before he replies.
“You’ve reached the talented Lewis Conley’s office. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you. For best results, keep it sweet. Beep!”
I clear my throat. “Hey, Dr. Conley. Amy Hitman, here—professional badass. Like we agreed, I’m calling because I want to do bad things. It’s urgent. Call me back.”
I hang up, and we lock eyes for a moment. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking when he’s lost in thought like this—it’s terrifying and fascinating in equal measures.
He starts fake dialing on his invisible phone, holding it back up to his ear. I pick up.
“Ms. Hitman?”
“Dr. Conley?”
“Thanks for reaching out. I’m glad you called, because this sounds serious. I’ve got a bikini-fetish patient I need to see to, but once I’m done, I’ll take good care of you. Are you free in”—he scrolls through his real phone to double-check SexyBikini’s booking—“say, half an hour?”
His lip curls in a cheeky smile, and I suddenly get what he’s thinking.
Once we’re done with this trip, we’re going to take a ride ourselves, and in a way, that surprises me.
This isn’t the time or the place—not when you’re as focused and driven as he is, anyway.
I like the way he seems to be loosening up, though.
He doesn’t feel as unreachable anymore. Our worlds don’t seem so far apart.
My eyes linger over his mouth, just long enough for one of my favorite fantasies to play out in my mind’s eye—him, me, in a car, undressed…
“What was it you told me? The dean said no hooking up with clients on campus?”
Damn it. Why the hell did I just say that? Now he’s sure to change his mind. Why am I freaking out about this?
“You’re not a client, and we won’t be on campus.”
“And what about Don?”
Girl, shut the hell up!
I don’t know why I’m giving him a hundred good reasons not to go through with this. Maybe because I want to hear him say it—I want to hear him explain what this thing is between us, where we’re heading. I want to know exactly what kind of mess I’m getting myself into.
“Does he need to know?”
“No…” I whisper.
Enough with the questions, there’ll be time for all that later. Right now, I’m Amy Hitman—fearless and free and fully in the moment.
I hold my imaginary phone back to my ear. “Your methods are certainly… unusual, Doctor.”
“I aim to please.”
Yourself, or me?
He looks me square in the eye. “So… Call it thirty?”
I nod.
He hits the gas, and before I know it, we’re racing down the street to collect SexyBikini.