I wave my hand. “No biggie. I’ve been briefed on how you roll.”
“How I roll?” He pulls out onto the highway, picking up speed.
“You know, with the ladies?”
His mouth tugs down in the corners.
“Look, I’m not judging. It’s your life. You don’t have to explain it to me.”
He’s quiet for a second, and he focuses on the road. “If we’re going to work together, I don’t want you thinking I’m a douche bag.”
Too late. “Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off. I turn and look out my window, watching the pine trees pass by in a blur. For some reason, my mind wanders to Wes.
We dated for five months earlier this year. One night, with his parents out of town, he’d made a bed of blankets in front of the fireplace. It was the first, and last time we slept together.
He was distant the next day when we talked on the phone, and then didn’t answer my calls or texts for the next two days. I found out online that he’d be snowboarding with his friends that Sunday, and I drove down to the ski hill and waited in the lodge all afternoon. I had to know what was going on. I finally met up with him in the parking lot. He and his friends were sweaty and laughing as they made their way to his truck. His face dropped when he saw me.
He said he didn’t want to be tied down, and things had been getting too serious between us. Serious? No shit. Three days before, he told me he loved me and took my virginity. When I reminded him of that, he just said he didn’t want a serious girlfriend right now. His friends stood beside his truck, loading their boards inside while he broke up with me.
I didn’t even wait for him to finish, I turned and walked calmly to my car. I needed to get away from him before I broke down. I went straight home and spent the afternoon hacking into his personal files, social networks and email, intent on making his life a living hell, all the while tears streaming down my cheeks.
Colt keeps the music playing low, one hand on the wheel, his face relaxed. I watch him drive from the corner of my eye. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, his arms are tone and tan, and wound around one wrist is a woven bracelet made up of individual thin strings of leather.
And after a little while, I’m feeling bold. “So what’s with the bracelet?” I make a point of looking at the strings on his wrist.
He glances down at it, his brow drawing together.
I wonder if it’s from one of his many admirers, and what memory it’s conjured up.
“It was my mother’s,” he says, surprising me.
Oh.
“She wore it as an ankle bracelet.” He smiles. “And I did too, when she first gave it to me, until I got too big and it didn’t fit. Then I moved it to my wrist.”
Colt turns up the music and I know the conversation is over, but I’m left wondering if there’s more to the story.
Chapter 12
It’d been five years since I lost my mother, but the ache was still there like a pulled muscle, flaring up when you thought you were recovered. I don’t know why I’d admitted that stuff about my mom to Taylor. I needed to hold shit together, keep my head in the game. I was here for an assignment, not to reminisce about my mother and certainly not to examine my feelings for some girl who thought she had me all figured out. I know what Taylor thinks of me, and that’s fine. It’ll be easier to stay away from her if she stays away from me too.
We make it six hours of the nine hour trip when a tire blows out, sending the car screeching across the highway. I swear under my breath and slow to a stop on the shoulder. “Wait here,” I tell Taylor while I get out to inspect the damage.
She waits inside, watching me in the side mirror.
I kick at the flattened rear tire. Great. Just great.
I glance at Taylor. Despite what I told her, she’s unlatching her seat belt and getting out.
She stands next to me in silence watching while I jack up the car and bolt on the flimsy spare from the trunk.
“What are we going to do now?” she asks, once we’re back in the car.
“We won’t be able to go above forty-five on this tire, so we’ll need to pull off at the first repair shop we find.”
We ride in silence for a few miles, the music off, the hum of the roadway louder under the inadequate tire, until after about fifteen minutes, the GPS directs me to a repair shop just off the highway.
Taylor waits while I go inside. The place is run down, poorly managed and lacking in the tire I need. Fuck. I slam my fist against the counter.
After arguing for several minutes with the guy at the counter, I storm outside. Taylor is out of the car and on her feet.
“What are you doing?” she scolds. “That poor kid at the counter is practically shaking.”
I stomp out past her into the parking lot, but can feel her hot on my trail.
“Why are you in such a piss-poor mood?” She jogs to catch up with me. “So we got a flat? Big deal. We’ll get a new tire and we’ll be back on the road shortly.”
“You mean tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” she questions.
“They don’t have the tire we need, and with the shop closing for the night, we won’t be able to get one until the morning.” I keep walking.
Taylor catches up and tugs on my sleeve. “There’s a pizza place across the street. Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. We’ll figure out what to do.”
I glance at her, those big blue eyes are fixed on mine and the pissed off feeling subsides slightly. I give her a tight nod, and follow.
For the next fifteen minutes, I mess around on my phone trying to find the tire I need in stock somewhere else and glance up occasionally to watch Taylor nibbling on a slice of pizza.
She’s certainly not shy about eating. I told her to order whatever she wanted, and while most girls would get a side salad, and some water, she took that literal. Three large slices of pizza piled with spicy sausage and onions. A smile escapes my lips when she catches me watching her eat. But then I go back to my phone.
“Have one.” She slides the tray toward me.
I glance up again briefly, making eye contact. “I’m good.” I search every car place within fifty miles, but I still can’t get the tire delivered to the repair shop faster than tomorrow. So I quit searching for a tire, and instead start looking for a hotel. “Are you about done? I found a place for us to stay tonight.”
Taylor swallows down the last bite of pizza, wiping her mouth across the napkin. “Give me that.” She rips the phone from my hands, shaking her head. She begins tapping at the keys, that little crease appearing between her brows. “There’s nothing more irritating than incompetence,” she mutters under her breath.
I lean back against the booth, knowing she won’t be able to miraculously find something if I couldn’t. But her cockiness is cute. Nice try, sweetheart.
“This freaking Podunk town,” she murmurs next.
I suppress a smile and fold my hands behind my head. “No luck?”
She shoots me a glare that screams fuck off. God she’s adorable when she’s pissed. I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “Are you through? I found us a hotel for the night.”
She squints her eyes at me, her mouth pressing into a line. “Fine.” She slides the phone back across the table toward me.
“Let’s go. The shop probably has our loner ready.”
I slap a twenty down on the table and lead Taylor to the door.
Chapter 13
At the auto shop there’s a newer model silver sedan waiting for us with the keys already in it, so they don’t have to deal with Colt again, I presume.