“Tired?”
“Mmm. I worked late last night, and when I got home, my roommate had a guy over who was banging her like a jackhammer. From the fake-ass noises she was making, she enjoyed it as much as I did. She had him over last weekend too, same story. Don’t know why she wanted a repeat performance.”
That made me laugh. “Not touching the roommate thing, except to say I’ll buy you earplugs. No one should have to be an innocent bystander to bad sex.”
She snorted. “It’s no big deal. You grow up in a tiny trailer with a skanky mom, you learn to tune it out. I was just ready to crash when I got home last night but it took me a while to shut down with all the jackhammering.”
“Where do you work?”
“I told you I don’t want you peering in the windows, Theodore.”
I glanced at her. “Really? You’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Your dad being in prison isn’t a secret, but your job is?”
“I’m not my dad.”
I nodded. “True. Glad you don’t take his shit on.”
“Let me guess what your dad does. Hmmm...real estate? No, I bet he’s in money management. Rich people like to manage other rich people’s money. Or wait, is he—?”
“President Whitlock. My father is the president of Savage U.”
Helen whistled. “Your dad’s the head bitch in charge? Damn, Theodore, I did not expect that. I guess that explains why Davis’s knees were knocking when you told him your full name on the first day of class.”
“Yeah. I don’t like my father very much, but I’m not afraid to throw his name out if I need to.” I chuckled under my breath. “I would really like to see his face if he heard you calling him head bitch in charge.”
“Let me get my diploma first, then it’s on.”
I turned, finding her ruby lips upturned, relaxed in her seat, pretty as hell and comfortable with me. Fucking finally.
“I get my diploma, I might do the honors,” I replied.
She went quiet again, humming to a White Stripes song, tapping along with the drum section on her thigh. We were only ten or fifteen minutes out from the performance site.
“Did you work things out with your girlfriend?”
Damn. I’d been feeling smug for drawing Helen out, and now we were right back to this. She hadn’t been wrong yesterday. My breakup with Abby had been complicated. Humiliating. Heartbreaking. I’d loved her for two years. Treated her right, gave her all I was able to give. Everyone thought we had a future, the real kind. She ripped that out from under me like it was nothing. Because I didn’t fall in line—the line she created well after we’d established who we were together. Because I’d loved her, it had been tempting to give in for her. But the fact that she could end us so easily, without a discussion, only an ultimatum, had given me the will to say no—the answer that broke us.
It had also happened months ago. My head was straight now.
“Not my girlfriend, Helen. I’ve told you that. I wouldn’t be touching you if I thought there was a microscopic chance for that relationship to be revived.”
“But she misses you too, and she had such a good time with you Wednesday.”
“Sounds a lot like jealousy, Tiger.”
“I’d have to want you to be jealous another girl has you.”
I shook my head. “No one has me. Abby and her parents were at my dad and stepmom’s house Wednesday for dinner. It was awkward, we barely spoke, and I sure as shit didn’t tell her I missed her.”
Out the corner of my eye, I saw her cross her arms. “I don’t care. Your messy personal life is none of my business.”
“Nothing messy about it. Our break was swift and clean.”
“Yet her parents and yours are buddy-buddy, having dinner together. Might’ve been swift, but it doesn’t sound clean.”
“Jealous, baby,” I murmured.
“I would smack you if you weren’t driving.” She shook her head. “You’re so damn smug. I do not play these kinds of games, Theodore.”
“I’m not playing any games. I’m driving you to a show an hour out of town. A show I didn’t need to go to because I could have easily hit the performance during the week. I can’t control what other people do or the texts that show up on my phone. You don’t know me well, I get that. But I’m straightforward, baby. Games are not in my wheelhouse. I think you’re gorgeous, interesting, sexy, and when you don’t have a massive wall of spikes around you, the kind of soft I could sink into. Maybe I get a kick out of you being jealous, but that’s only because it lets me know you might be interested too. That’s not a game—that’s me getting a read on you. Do you get me?”
A breath whooshed out of her. “You can’t just say shit like that. No one says shit like that.”
“Like what?”
Her hands flailed in the air in front of her. “All that you just said. People don’t just lay it on the line. It’s not—”
“I don’t know what other people do. I don’t really care.”
I could feel her aiming eye daggers at me. “I hope you don’t expect anything like that from me.”
I grinned. “Nope. I don’t have any expectations.”
“Good. Because people don’t talk like that,” she muttered.
“It’s obvious you’ve never been treated the way you deserve.”
“Or is it possible I’ve been treated exactly how I deserve and you are grossly overestimating who I am?”
My hands tightened on the wheel. “Don’t say shit like that about yourself.”
She inhaled sharply, then reached out and traced her fingertip over my tight knuckles. “Okay. I won’t. But don’t break your steering wheel. I need a good grade in this class. In order to get that, I have to attend this performance. If you break your car, I’ll have to hitchhike and—”
Grabbing her hand, I brought it to my mouth and bit down on her knuckles. “Stop talking.” I rubbed my lips along the smooth skin on the top of her hand.
“’Kay. But do you think I can have my hand back?”
“Nope.”
“’Kay.”
* * *
Helen wanted blueberries. She’d never say it, but I saw her eyeing people around us eating them. I rose from the blanket I’d brought for us to share, and she looked up at me.
“Stay here.”
She rolled her eyes and gestured to the stage. “Where would I go?”
I picked up a piece of her hair, rubbing it between my fingers. “Stay, Tiger.”
There was a stand at the opening of the park selling blueberries in small baskets. The price was astronomical, but I didn’t blink. I wanted to see her reaction when I gave them to her.
Helen wasn’t alone when I got back. Seated beside her on his own blanket was the big motherfucker from class who’d taken it upon himself to be her bodyguard. Lachlan. And he was holding out his own basket of blueberries, which Helen helped herself to.
I thought he was cool, but I was reconsidering.
I sat down beside her. She turned, grinning. “Look who’s here.”
Lachlan jerked his chin at me. I stared at him, unblinking. He chuckled as he turned away.