When Boone tipped his head at me, almost smirking over the fact I wouldn’t label the first time he’d given me head as something I wanted to forget, I couldn’t contain the flustered expression I’d been holding back. Reaching for the handle he was still holding, I threw the door open and leapt inside the car.
Only to be reminded why one shouldn’t throw their bare skin onto a leather seat that had been baking in the sun for the past hour without doing a few taps to get used to it first.
“Hot?” Boone winced as I rolled onto my side.
“Scalding.” I rolled onto my other side, keeping the rolling motion going.
“Air conditioning coming up.” After slamming my door, Boone jogged around the front of the car, threw himself inside, and had the engine on and the air running before I could complete another roll back and forth.
“How far is your center?” I could have sighed with relief when the cool air rushed across my face.
“How far is what used to be my center? Not far. Or kinda far.” Boone threw his arm over the back of the seat, angling his head back too, before backing out of the parking spot. “Depends on your definition of far.”
“Is that your subtle way of saying it’s a matter of perspective?” I quirked an eyebrow in his direction as he gassed down the street.
“That’s my not-so-subtle way of saying everything’s a matter of perspective.”
Boone waved at the classic Mercedes that had just passed us after the driver waved out the window first. As we passed, the driver gave us a strange look. Probably because he was used to seeing my dad behind the wheel, not some young guy with hair tucked back into a ponytail.
“When you went to lift a car from my dad this morning, why this one?” I asked a few minutes later, after we’d made it from the wealthy part of town into one that was distinctively middle-class. I liked this part of Charleston better. More public parks, way more kids, and more dogs being walked on leashes. Not the kind that could be stuffed in a ridiculous-looking baby stroller.
Boone’s fists slid up and down the steering wheel, like he was thinking. “I’ve driven this one before, so I felt reasonably certain I wouldn’t destroy it like your father believes I’ve destroyed the other things in his life.”
I smashed my lips together and nodded. “That makes sense.” I smiled as we passed a city park stuffed as full with children bouncing around the toys as there were trees. “I was just thinking it might have been for another reason . . .”
At the same time, Boone’s and my gazes shifted to the backseat for a moment.
He nodded once. “And because of the memories. The good ones.” He’d left his arm draped over my seat back, and when his hand draped over the cusp of my shoulder, I flinched.
“Sorry.” His hand moved back to the seat.
“No, that’s not why I jumped,” I said quickly. “It felt good.” Clearly I was saying things too quickly now, as was confirmed by Boone’s expression changing into something I couldn’t quite translate. But no matter what, it didn’t mean anything good when he was looking like that, inside this car, talking about those memories. “I mean, I was surprised it felt good.”
Boone’s brows knitted tighter together.
I groaned silently and slumped into the seat. “Never mind. I can’t put together an intelligent thought to save my soul today.”
After another minute of shifting around in my seat, the growing silence shifting from uncomfortable to unbearable, I noticed the corners of Boone’s mouth twitching before a smile moved into place.
“Good to know my touch still feels so good it makes you jump.”
When his eyes slid in my direction, right before he winked, my mouth dropped open. “Good is a generous way of putting it.”
His eyes rolled, calling my bluff. “You might be paying me ten grand to pose as your date for the week, but that was for free.” Another wink matched with a roguish smile. “You’re welcome.”
I wanted to swat his chest, but I knew better than to touch him. Not with the way I was feeling—like everything he did pulled me closer instead of repelling me as it should have. “A little more driving, a little less gloating please.”
“Just so you know, my hand’s here for your feel-good pleasure.” Boone kept a straight face and lifted his hand that was still just behind my shoulder.
I ground my teeth together. “The only way that hand could give me any more feel-good pleasure is for it to never touch me again.” When Boone glanced over to check my expression, I hoped he found one as convincing as I’d intended.
After one final glance at me, Boone chuckled. “God, Clara, it’s no wonder your parents figured the two of us out. You aren’t just a bad liar, not even an exceptionally bad one.” Boone shook his head. “You are certifiably incapable of lying.”
His laugh continued to fill the cab, and though I knew he was only teasing, I felt my feathers ruffle. “I seem to remember getting a few lies by you when we were kids.”