Chapter 2 #2
Taevin’s eyes widen to a comical size. “Oh my goodness, Ry! Stop it. This is Jackson Wilson. I just wanted you to see his face in case he turns out to be a serial killer instead of a high school hockey player taking me out for celebratory ice cream at The Sprinkled Cone.”
I choke back a scoff. “If I were a serial killer, I wouldn’t have suggested you call your friend or send a picture of me to her. And to answer your question, yes, I do have a brother.”
“Semantics. You probably want to seem reasonable instead of the crazed psychopath you are,” Taevin notes.
Her friend Ryan, whom I forgot was still on the phone, clears her throat. “You seem willing to go to your favorite ice cream place with him, but just in case your paranoia is correct, either call me or send me a proof of life picture later. Love ya!”
Shaking her head, Tae chuckles at her friend. “Alright, I will. Love ya too! Bye, Ry.”
“Nice meeting you, Jackson Wilson, hockey player and hopefully not serial killer. Have Tae send me a picture of that brother of yours,” she says before hanging up.
Tae slips her phone into her purse and turns to face me. “So, that wasn’t weird at all.”
“I agree, it wasn’t. I liked meeting your friend. Hopefully, when you call her later for proof of life, the conversation is filled with how hard you’re crushing on me.” I toss her a wink before slinging my hockey bag back over my shoulder and making my way toward the rink exit.
“As if. I’m just in this for the free ice cream. What sane person would turn down free ice cream from a cute boy?” Her eyes widen and her blush spreads to her neck when she realizes what she’s just said.
I can’t stop myself from smiling like the Cheshire Cat. “And what sane person would turn down the opportunity to offer a cute girl he’s shamelessly crushing on a ride home?”
Taevin bites her lip, hesitating for a moment, before she follows me out of the rink as we head toward my truck.
“Is this yours?” she asks.
“She is.”
“She?”
“My sweet Frannie girl here is a 1975 Ford F-150 Supercab.”
“You would have a red vehicle,” she teases.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, rounding the truck and opening the passenger door for her.
Instead of hopping in, she turns to face me, which puts us in closer proximity.
There’s something about this girl being in my orbit that twists me up inside, but in a good way.
A way I’d like to get more accustomed to.
Rolling her eyes, Taevin says, “It means I’m not surprised you’d have a flashy colored vehicle. ”
She’s so fucking cute, I can’t help but chuckle.
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. My older brother Bennett and I have been working on restoring her for the past three years, and because of the sweat equity he put into her, I let him choose the paint color this past summer.
He went with Candy Apple Red, of course. ”
“Of course,” she echoes my sentiment. “So, does this thing even have seatbelts?” Tae questions as she hops into the cab of my truck.
“I wouldn’t have allowed such precious cargo if it didn’t,” I tell her, leaning in and pulling said seatbelt across her lap before latching it and ensuring it’s secured.
My cheesy as hell line has her rolling her eyes. “I’ll bet you use that line on all the girls you give rides to.”
I pinch my face in disgust. “That’d be weird considering the only other girl I’ve allowed inside Frannie has been my little sister, Walker.”
I’m still standing between her and the open passenger door when her brown eyes shine up at me in disbelief. “You can’t be serious?”
“About what?” I say somewhat defensively.
“You’ve never had another girl in the cab of your truck aside from your sister? Who, by the way, has one of the coolest names I’ve ever heard.”
I smirk down at her. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever even asked to get in my truck, Taevin Gray. Now, let’s go get you that ice cream cone.”
Shutting the passenger door, I quickly round my truck and slide in beside her to start it, making sure to crank up the heat when I do.
Rubbing my hands together to warm them up, I bring them to my mouth and blow on them, before turning to Taevin and asking, “So, what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? ”
Looking her over, I try to guess before she responds.
My money is on her favorite flavor being vanilla with sprinkles on it, but she surprises me when she says, “Monster cookie in a waffle cone—there’s just nothing better than the peanut butter flavor hitting my tongue followed by the crunch of the frozen M&Ms. What’s yours? ”
I’m left somewhat stupefied imagining said ice cream hitting her tongue, but I think she’s completely clueless to her effect on me, so I try to pull my shit together. Clearing my throat, I reply, “Mint chocolate chip.”
“Like your eyes,” she murmurs under her breath, but with the way she’s facing me, gazing into my eyes, I’m able to catch what she said.
“I’ve got mint eyes?” I ask, amused by how easily her cheeks heat.
Biting her bottom lip, she nods in response. “They’re not quite blue, but they’re not simply green either. They’re almost like sea glass, don’t you think?”
“I guess they kind of change in different lighting, so that’d be a good comparison.”
“And the color is rare,” she points out, and the breathlessness in her tone, combined with the way we’re leaning toward one another, is leaving me heady.
I wonder what she’d do if I leaned in and kissed her right now. Would she turn away and get scared off? Would she tell me to get lost?
Before I can ponder that further, Taevin’s phone lights up with an incoming call. She looks at the screen and says, “It’s my dad, I’d better get this.”
Swiping accept, she answers, “Hey, Dad. The game just ended, and I’m going to grab some ice cream on my way home.”
I can’t quite make out what is being said on the other end of the call, but when Tae lies about who she’s getting ice cream with, I stiffen beside her.
Sure, her father is our pastor, but I didn’t take Taevin as the lying teenager type. The thought that maybe she’s only lying because she’s with me, and perhaps I’m someone to lie about, is unsettling.
When she hangs up, she turns to me and it’s as if she’s read my mind when she says, “I’m sorry I lied about who I’m with to him.
It’s just that my dad is overbearing and extremely strict.
If he knew I was with a boy right now, regardless of the fact that he’s a member of our church, he’d come pick me up and drag me straight home.
And then he’d likely ground me for the rest of senior year. ”
“So you’re a senior?” I ask.
She shakes her and giggles at me. “Yes, I am. But is that all you got out of that?”
“No, I heard every word. Look, I get it. My dad is . . . strict too. I’m not upset you lied to your dad about me, just a little surprised by the action, is all.”
She mock-gasps. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’ve already put me in the perfect Taevin Gray, church choir girl box. How will I ever live up to your expectations now?”
I’m fucking obsessed with this little bit of personality I’m seeing from her. It’s unexpected, yet refreshing at the same time.
Shifting into reverse, I rest my arm on the back of her seat and turn to pull out of the parking lot. “Come on, let’s get you that waffle cone before I put you on a pedestal, Tae.”