“The zoo was crowded, yeah. It was me and my mates, a few others gathered around. I don’t know. I’ve tried to forget about the day a koala went psychotic on me. I had nightmares for months. Surprised I didn’t need therapy after that.”
She slaps at my arm. I grab her hand before she can pull away and lace my fingers through hers, resting our joined hands together on the console. I haven’t held her like this yet. I’ve wanted to all night, in my studio, on the footpath that first day. My hand practically engulfs hers. She feels a bit tense. Her nails, dark as the night, tap restlessly against my skin.
She stares down between us, biting at her bottom lip.
“So . . . I’m guessing you aren’t a fan of kangaroos either? Did one chase you down the street or something? Kick you around a little?”
I grin, giving a gentle squeeze to her hand. She’s not pulling away.
Bit of a shock. I was expecting some resistance.
I press down on the accelerator and ease through the intersection.
“Nah. I never had a problem with kangaroos. Although, there have been some cases of rogue ones attacking people. The mums can be vicious.”
She laughs softly, gazing out the window.
“Have you always lived here?” I ask her, smiling when her fingers relax against the back of my hand. I turn us onto a side street, avoiding the pile up of traffic ahead.
“Mm. Yeah. Born and raised Chicago girl. I thought about moving to the beach a few years back but . . .” Brooke jolts upright, leaning forward in her seat and staring out the window. She tugs her hand free and braces it on the dash. “Uh, Mason. You’re going down a one-way street right now.”
“What?”
“One-way street. Shit! There’s cars coming! Pull over! Quick! Get off the road!”
My eyes sweep the small alley I’ve turned down.
“Fucking hell.”
I was so focused on not crushing Brooke’s hand with mine, on the feel of Brooke’s hand, on Brooke, I hadn’t noticed the well-lit street signs posted in warning, indicating that I have indeed turned down a one-way street.
Cars are parked along either side, leaving me with little room to pull off as head-lights loom closer.
I tap the brakes.
“Shit,” she whispers, squirming in her seat, her head whipping left, then right, then behind her. “Can you back up or something? Quickly, like floor it?”
I glance in the rear-view mirror, then ahead of me once more. “It’s all right. Look up there. I can pull off a bit in front of that motorbike until they get by.”
“That’s not going to give them enough room to pass you.”
“It might.”
She groans, covering her face with her hands.
I pull ahead and squeeze as close to the motorbike and the car parked in front of it as I can get without knocking into one.
Damn. This is going to be tight.
I shift into park. “Right. See? It’s all good, gorgeous. No worries.”
A blaring horn pulls my attention off Brooke.
I roll my window down as the car at the front of the line heading our direction inches past me at a snail’s pace. Their side mirror nearly strips my door of paint.
“This is a one-way street, you idiot!” the man yells up at me, shaking his fist as he slows to a stop.
I hold up a hand. “Yeah, sorry about that, mate. New in town. My apologies, yeah?”
His face visibly relaxes. The female passenger, I’m guessing his wife, leans over him to look up at me. She waves a quick hand. “Welcome to Chicago! We visited Sydney a few years ago on our honeymoon. Beautiful city. We had the best time.”
“Oh, my God. You have got to be kidding me,” Brooke mumbles next to me, her voice breaking with a soft giggle.
I give her a quick smile, then turn back to the couple. “Oh yeah? I’m glad to hear that. And again, I’m terribly sorry about this little blunder. I hope I haven’t ruined your night.”
The driver waves his hand dismissively. The car behind him lays on his horn.
“All right! Jesus! Are we all in a hurry?” he yells, craning his neck around to look at them. He gives me a sharp nod. “Enjoy Chicago. Watch out for one-way streets.”
“Right. Got it.”