Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Jason
I spend the night tossing and turning, coming up with a thousand contingency plans to help Hailey in a way she’ll accept.
By the time I get up in the morning, running on only a handful of hours’ sleep, I’ve only decided one thing for certain—I’m paying for her car repairs, whether she likes it or not.
The only thing I’m not quite decided on is how I’m going to do it.
Do I just give the repair shop my credit card and phone number?
I mean, yeah, obviously, but I guess the real question is, do I do it while Hailey’s watching?
Or find a way to pull the guys aside and do it when she’s unaware?
Part of me thinks she’d see doing it behind her back as a dick move. But that same part of me thinks she wouldn’t let me if I do it in front of her, even though we both know she can’t afford whatever it’s gonna cost.
Based on how her car was acting last night, I’m guessing it’s her transmission.
And transmission repairs aren’t cheap. If she’s struggling to scrape together rent, no way she’s going to have an extra few grand lying around to cover it.
And I know she said she’d use her emergency credit card, but I suspect she doesn’t have the credit limit to cover it either.
Of course, I’m contemplating the worst-case scenario, but with the burning smell and the way her car lurched and stopped?
The worst-case scenario seems likely.
Retracing my path to her house, I look at the area with fresh eyes.
Last night, it was dark, and it was hard to see much of the neighborhood.
I have to admit I wasn’t super impressed with the lack of street lamps and how dim the few in the area are.
But in the fresh light of morning, it’s not so bad.
A little run-down, but generally well kept up.
At least she’s not living in a slum somewhere.
When I park in front of her house, I’m not sure if I should get out and knock—that’s what my dad would insist was only proper—or just text that I’m here.
But I’m saved from making a decision by her appearance on the front porch. She’s dressed almost the same as yesterday—cutoff shorts but her top is a berry pink tank top with a low scoop neck that shows off just a hint of cleavage.
Her long legs are bronze and smooth in the morning sun, and if she weren’t my childhood best friend’s little sister, I’d be thinking of all the ways I’d like those legs—
Nope. Not going there. Cutting that thought off before it can go any further.
Jesus. I don’t need to be lusting after Hailey. That’s the last thing she needs right now.
A helping hand? Sure.
Some extra cash until she can get back on her feet? Absolutely.
Her deceased brother’s best friend panting after her?
Not fucking likely.
And what would Hunter say if he were still around anyway?
God, I don’t even want to think about that. He’d smack me if I even hinted that I think she’s attractive.
Nope nope nope. Not going there.
She’s pulling the passenger side door open before I’ve finished berating myself, and I’m dragged out of my head and back to the present moment. “Morning!” I almost shout.
Squinting, she pauses to look at me for a second, her expression telling me that I was way too loud with that greeting.
“Uh, morning,” she responds after a beat, settling in the seat and shutting the door before buckling her seatbelt.
“You are waaaay too upbeat for this early in the morning. Is this how you are all the time?”
Backing out of the driveway, I let out a soft chuckle. “Nah. Only on Tuesdays.”
When I glance at her, she’s squinting at me again. “It’s Thursday.”
“So it is,” I murmur, realizing I’m due to fly back to Seattle in two days. Will that be enough time for them to get her car fixed? In all my tossing and turning and contingency planning last night, that’s one angle I didn’t consider.
“So, I know I said I’d give you a ride anywhere you need while your car’s being worked on,” I start, glancing her way to see how she reacts.
Her lips curve in a sardonic smile, and I plow forward.
“But I’m flying back to Seattle in a couple days.
Do you have a way to get around if your car’s in the shop for longer than that? ”
A soft, humorless chuckle comes from the passenger seat. “Well, unless I can find a cheap bike, I guess I’ll be walking.”
“Seems like it’d be hard to do food delivery on foot,” I say carefully.
Another humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, I think that career path is closed to me for the moment. Unless I can find a job that offers a company car or something that I can do from home, I think I’m fucked.” She glances at me from the corner of her eye at a stoplight. “And not in a good way.”
I grunt because I don’t know what to say to that.
Hearing Hailey cuss is weird enough as it is—not that it’s weird for a grown woman to use that language, it’s just that it’s hard for me to square the goofy tomboy I used to know with the adult sitting next to me—but adding in the sexual innuendo on top of that?
Dear god, she might be the death of me without even trying.
Her laughter draws my attention, and I glance over at her.
She shakes her head. “The look on your face is hilarious.” Leaning closer to me, she presses her lips together like she’s trying—and failing—not to smile.
“I’m twenty-five, you know,” she says. “I’m not the little kid you used to know anymore.
” She lowers her voice to a dramatic whisper.
“I’ve had sex before. More than once.” Then she gasps, her mouth forming an exaggerated O of fake shock, and she holds one hand in front of it.
I force a chuckle, trying to show that I’m not shocked. “I mean, I know that, Hailey. Well, I mean, I didn’t know know. Like, I haven’t been stalking you or spying on you or anything.”
That makes her laugh for real. “No kidding. You’d’ve known more about my life if you had.”
“Well, I mean to make up for that now,” I mutter.
“What?” she yelps, and I jump, jerking the wheel a little in surprise, but I recover quickly. “You’re going to start stalking me? Or is it spying?”
“Ha. No. That’s not what I mean. Just … I feel bad I haven’t kept up with you.”
“Oh, Jason,” she says, laying her hand on my arm briefly, and there’s a zing at the contact, but it’s over as soon as it starts because she takes her hand away.
Did she feel it too? Is that why she didn’t leave it there longer?
“It’s never been your job to keep track of me.
The fact that you’ve kept in touch as much as you have is more than anyone has any right to expect given …
” She makes a gesture with one hand and shakes her head. “Well, everything.”
Pressing my lips together, I grunt again, not wanting to directly contradict her, but … she’s wrong.
She chuckles, clearly interpreting my grunt correctly. “You’re a good guy, Jason.”
The thing is, though, I’m not all that good, am I? A good guy would’ve done a better job at making sure she’s okay.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m doing okay.”
This time I press my lips together to keep from asking, “You sure about that?” because from where I’m sitting, she doesn’t seem to be all that okay.
And I don’t know if she can read my mind, or if I’m just that transparent because she says, “Well, generally I’m okay. This month is a little suckier than normal. And the car thing …” She sighs heavily.
“Don’t worry about the car thing,” I jump in to reassure her. “I’ll make sure you have transportation before I go back to Seattle. And until then, I’ll drive you anywhere you need to go.”
She’s silent as I pull into the parking lot of the mechanic. Her car’s sitting off to one side, looking lost and alone. “That’s really kind of you to offer—” she starts, but I shake my head, cutting her off.
“I’m serious, Hailey. Do you need a ride somewhere after this? I know you said you teach. Do you have lessons or a class or something?”
She blows out a breath. “I have a gig tomorrow. I was going to reach out to see if one of my friends could give me a ride.” Pressing her lips together, she shakes her head then looks at me. “Are you sure you don’t mind? For real?”
“Not at all. Let me know where and when, and I’ll be your chauffeur. I’ll find a way to entertain myself until it’s over, then pick you up. Maybe we could grab a drink or a bite after?”
With a relieved smile on her face, she shrugs. “You’re seriously a lifesaver. You don’t have to take me out for dinner after. It’s a wedding at two on a farm a little bit east of Madison. I need to be there about one thirty.”
“I can do that.”
“You don’t have plans with your parents or anything?”
I give her an amused look. “I’ve been home for almost two weeks now. We had a few plans, but we exhausted those a week ago. I’m just hanging around and generally being a nuisance. I think my mom’ll be glad I have something to occupy myself, even if it’s just driving you around.”
“Well, if driving me around makes your mom happy, you could do some food deliveries with me.” She bounces her eyebrows, grinning.
“Uhhhh,” I hedge, not sure what the right answer is. “Are you serious?”
Her grin turns lopsided, and she shrugs. “Kinda? I mean, I was planning on working today before my car went kaput. Now I can’t, so I’m at a bit of a loose end for the day after this. I was planning on practicing some, too, but …” She trails off, shrugging again.
“Or,” I say slowly, glancing at her then looking away, “I could cover whatever you would’ve earned today, and we could go do something fun instead.”
She’s silent for a beat, and I look at her to find her staring at me, just blinking. “So … you want to pay me to hang out with you? Like an escort?”
I nearly choke on my own tongue when she says that, and shake my head quickly. “No, no, no. Not like that. Think of it like a paid vacation.”
Her eyes narrow, and she studies me. “A paid vacation, huh? I can’t say I’ve ever had one of those.”
“Most people get them as part of their benefits package.”
She laughs. “I can’t say I’ve ever had one of those, either.” She shrugs. “The life of a freelancer.”
“Right. Well, for this one brief window of time, you, too, can take advantage of benefits that millions of Americans take for granted. Whaddaya say?”
After studying me for another moment, she releases a breath and nods. “Okay. I could use a paid vacation. Plus, it’s easier than trying to sell feet pictures on OnlyFans or something.”
She’s climbing out of the car as I say, “Wait, what? Are you doing that?”
Cackling, she starts walking away.
“Hailey, wait up.” I scramble out of the car and jog a few steps to catch up to her. “Are you actually doing that?”
Still grinning, she shakes her head. “No. But what else was I going to do today with no car and no way to make money? I can sell feet pictures from the comfort of my home. And according to the internet, there are perverts happy to pay for them.” She stops in her tracks and turns to face me, giving me that squinty-eyed look she uses to size me up.
“You’re not one of those kinds of perverts, are you?
” She holds up her hands, palms out. “I mean, no judgment if you are. I just don’t want to offend you. ”
My mouth hanging open, I sort through a variety of responses, and I take long enough that her squint turns into a cheeky grin.
Closing my mouth, I rub my jaw. “No,” I growl at last. “I don’t think feet are gross or anything, but they don’t turn me on.
And I wouldn’t pay strange women on the internet for pictures of their feet even if they did.
I’m honestly not sure if I should be more offended by the fact you think I would or on behalf of feet-pic buying perverts. ”
She laughs, and I decide that I really like this version of her that gives me shit and laughs and leads the way to the mechanic’s office. Not that I didn’t like her last night, of course. But I really hated seeing her look so beaten.
I like knowing that her default is something like this, and that all she needed was someone to help her to find her way back here. And I really like that that someone is me.