“Who says I’m having any fun?”
“You’re about to.” He stopped but kept hold of my fingers. “Or, if you want, I can put you to bed and go have fun with someone else.”
I rolled my eyes. Please. Like I’d be jealous or something?
“You’re the one I want to play with, though,” he whispered, leaning in.
Yeah, I’m sure. A psycho with a penchant for blind girls who can’t pick him out of a line-up. Was I out of my mind?
“People and music and fires and beer,” he taunted. “Let’s go, Winter. The world awaits.”
I shook my head at myself. I was out of my mind.
“You’ll bring me home?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Alive and… untouched?”
And he laughed, and it was the first time I’d heard his voice. Deep and smooth and very much humored at my expense. “Tonight. Sure.”
My expression fell, and I hesitated only a moment before I pulled out of his grasp and inched my way over to the closet, feeling for one of my hoodies that was bound to be in there.
Finding one, I pulled it out and slipped it on, digging out a pair of sneakers, too. I wanted my phone. I should bring it.
I turned back toward the stairs, but then stopped, remembering the GPS on it my parents used to track me with an app.
If my mom woke up or my dad came home, would I want them to be able to find me with a boy whose name I didn’t even know, doing something I shouldn’t be doing, and use it as an excuse to send me away again?
But then again, if I needed them to find me, I was going to be damn glad I had the phone, wasn’t I?
Decisions, decisions.
Screw it.
I inhaled a breath, turned around, and reached for his hand.
He took it and opened the door.
“Why don’t you use a stick?” he asked, leading me down the driveway. “Or a guide dog or something?”
Believe me, I’d love to. It would allow me a little more freedom.
“If I need to go anywhere, someone helps me,” I told him. “My parents don’t like me to draw attention to myself.”
They thought people would stare at me. I wasn’t the only visually impaired person in town, but I was pretty sure I was the only full-on blind one, and I knew their fears without even asking. And they were right. It made people uncomfortable. I’d been through enough awkward conversations to know when someone just wanted to be away from me, because they didn’t know how to act around me.
The part they were wrong about was that they thought the world was still the same for me, and I should learn how to navigate it the same way I did before. I couldn’t. People might be uncomfortable, but they would get used to it. They would change. It was a source of resentment that my parents thought that no one should be inconvenienced, and it was my responsibility not to be a burden to others.
It was my world, too.
“You could never not draw attention,” he finally said. “And it has nothing to do with you being blind.”
The way he said it—gentle and thoughtful—made heat rise to my cheeks, and I didn’t know if he meant my dancing or if I was pretty, but I smiled to myself, suddenly warm all over.
I didn’t have time to ask him to clarify, though, because the next thing I knew he was in front of me, reaching back, grabbing my thighs, and hefting me up onto his back. I sucked in a breath, my feet lifting off the ground, and I hurriedly circled my arms around his neck so I wouldn’t fall.
“I can walk faster,” I told him. “I can. I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up and hold me tight.”
Okayyyy. I locked my arms around his neck.
“Tighter,” he bit out. “Like in the closet the other night.”
I smirked but he couldn’t see it. I tightened my arms around his neck, tucking my head close with my cheek next to his. I’d tried not to think about my parents’ fight that night, but I couldn’t not think about him. How his arms, heat, and pulse in my ear made it all go away. How sometimes you have to get the worst to feel the best. It was a nice memory.
He carried me down the driveway, and when his shoes hit rocks, I knew we were outside my walls.
He stopped and set me down, my leg brushing a body of metal. I put out my hands, rubbing them over steel, glass, and a door handle.
I smiled.
Of course, he wouldn’t have pulled up right in front of my house. He’d parked outside the open gates.
I trailed the length of the car, feeling the smooth surface, but not glossy like glass. It was a matte paint, the long, clean lines and grill narrow, sophisticated, and sleek. Definitely foreign.
“I like your car,” I told him and then teased, “What’s its name?”
He breathed out a laugh and then I felt him behind me, his whisper hitting my ear. “My pets all have pulses.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and every inch of my skin sparked to life. How did he do that?
Taking my hand, he led me around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and climbed in, and I heard the seat slide, but I wasn’t sure if he was moving it forward or backward. Something else shifted, too. The steering wheel?
My heart pumped harder, and apprehension made me retreat a step. I don’t think…
“Come here,” he said.
Uh, no. Maybe this isn’t a great idea.
His fingers took mine, and he tugged. “Get in this car right now.”
My stomach sank to my feet as I hesitated, and I felt a little sick.
I could go back to the house right now. I could go to bed with my music and audiobooks and my quiet house while the world continued to spin around me, and the next time I was given a chance to do something wild, stupid, and scary, it would be even easier to turn tail and run… Every day just as predictable as the last.
This was stupid. And illegal.
But he was fun. I didn’t want it to be over.
I closed my eyes and let my shoulders slump a little, defeated.
Fine. I slid a leg into the car, ducking my head as he guided me into his lap, fitting my legs between his long ones. I leaned back a little, so I wasn’t right up on the steering wheel, my back pressed against his chest.
Placing my hands on the wheel, he wrapped my fingers around it. “It’s like a clock,” he instructed. “You’re at ten o’clock and two o’clock right now.”
His fists tightened around mine, emphasizing my position.
I nodded, my belly still somersaulting like crazy.
“I’ll handle the pedals and the stick shift,” he told me. “You just steer.”
“Steer how?” I blurted out, tears of frustration springing to my eyes already. “We’re going to die.”
He snorted. “It’s an empty road,” he told me. “And at this hour, sure to be deserted. Relax.”
I shook my head, still unsure.
“Hey.” He nudged my chin, turning me to face him. “All you have to do is trust me, kid. You understand?”
I paused, feeling his eyes on me and his body behind me.
But the fear melted away. He was in charge, and he could do anything. I did trust him.
I nodded and then took a deep breath and turned my head forward again.
His legs shifted under me, his hand reached underneath mine, and suddenly, the car purred to life as he started the engine.
His right hand settled on the gear shift, moving it into position, and his breath fell on my neck as my fists grinded the steering wheel.
“You’re going to pull up onto the street, just to the left,” he explained. “When you feel all four tires on the smooth pavement, straighten out.”
I swallowed, nodding again. “Not too much gas at first, okay?”
All I heard was another laugh, though. Okay, so maybe I didn’t trust him.
“Giving it some gas,” he warned me, and the engine revved.
I shook the steering wheel side to side, nervous, but he hadn’t taken his foot off the brake…or the clutch or whatever yet, so we weren’t moving, and I relaxed again, feeling stupid.
He didn’t laugh at me, though.