“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You fell asleep. Then apparently I did, too.” I sit forward and rub my hands through my hair a few times. “If I knew what number you were, I would have carried your ass in.”
“You would have?” Her voice is a whisper, making me immediately regret saying it.
“Hell yes, this car isn’t all that comfortable.” I look out the window at that beautiful car. “That yours?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Sweet fucking ride.”
“Well, it was in its day, I’m sure,” she says with a laugh as she opens the door. “Sorry I kept you from your girlfriend…”
I shake my head, and she smiles. Looking down as her smile grows, her hair falls over her face to hide it.
“I’ll see you later tonight, then?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
I drive home quickly. That wasn’t fucking cool at all. I should have woken her up. I should definitely not have told her I had considered carrying her inside. She is like fucking beer goggles clouding my mind when I am sober. There is just something about her. I can’t fucking shake it, but I have to.
...
Saturday night, I have Jagger fill in for me. I couldn’t spend three nights back to back around the college girl who is now in my head all the damn time.
I decide I should take a look at her car, you know, so I don’t have to take her home again. I am a strong man, but not fucking invincible. To make matters worse, she is constantly checking me out. I could fuck her just as easily as I did that chick at the fundraiser, but she seems so innocent, too damn innocent for the likes of me.
I push the snow off the car, and I shit you not, she is beautiful.
Hoping I’m not gonna have to use the slim Jim to break in the car and hot wire it, I feel along the underside of the fender and laugh. She has a hide-a-key. Of course she does, she’s a chick. She needs one. She’s lost her keys and spent more than twenty minutes looking for them more than once at the bar and they were in her jacket pocket the whole damn time.
Fuck.
I pop the hood and grab my portable jump box, hooking it up. When it has been long enough to give the battery a charge, I sit in the seat then turn the key and nothing, not one noise. No attempt at a turn over, no clicks for the starter to show it is catching. Nope, she is dead, and the cause is most likely the alternator.
I run down to the parts place where, thankfully, Roy, the owner, finds the right one. He has to blow three inches of dust off it and doesn’t promise it will work, but I take it anyway. After freezing my balls off while changing it in the dark, I get in again and turn the key.
Click, click, click, and catch.
She comes to life, sputtering a few times at the same time as the belts start squealing in the cold, letting me know there is a lot more this beauty needs. I sit back and rev the engine a few more times.
I caress the steering wheel, running my finger around the outer edge of the circle teasing the temptress beneath me. I adjust in the seat, running my hand down the gear shift, stroking up and down to get a feel for the beauty under my hands. Then, I run my flat palm over the passenger seat to feel the texture of the tattered threads before I bring my hand back up to trace the steering wheel once more. When I’ve gotten used to the feel of the car, I grip the gear shift and make sure it’s in first before pulling out.
I feel the car move beneath me as the tires fight to grip the road while the engine pulls to carry the machine, and the car moves in the cold, winter weather. I drive to my house and hit the remote door opener to the garage and pull her in.
Opening the door to the apartment, I call Floyd. “Come on, girl, just a four block run.”
When we get back to Olivia’s parking lot, I open the passenger door to my car, and Floyd starts to jump in.
“You do, and you’ll be sleeping on the floor.”
She stops and I take my coat off to throw it over the seat.
“Get in and keep that ass on the coat, understand?”
Once home, I play around with Olivia’s car, realizing she needs a solid tune up and a couple belts replaced. I am gonna put in a new battery, too.
I clean the inside and hose her down. I could easily get lost in this for hours, and I do. Eventually, I look at my watch, and before I know it, it is two in the morning. Son-of-a-bitch. I’m gonna be late to pick Livi up. I don’t want her walking in the cold. As much as I want to stay away, I can’t. Now, my attempt at avoidance has backfired. I’m anxious to see her again. Plus, I’m excited to tell her about her car.
Chapter Eight
Olivia