Breaking Even(24)

I can’t help but laugh. I bet the beauty queen flipped the hell out if he did that to her. I just want massive payback. And I will have it. When he least suspects it.

We sit at the far back and just watch all the happy couples, and the Sterling men who have brought equally designer women. Why the hell did I think shorts and a tank top would be okay? Oh yeah, because it’s a barbeque!

“Why haven’t you gotten your car fixed yet?” he asks just as Tag comes over, carrying something odd and fruity to give to me.

I’m thankful for the interruption.

“It’ll get rid of your food coloring. Hopefully,” he snickers.

I roll my eyes while mumbling a thanks, trying to keep my mouth as closed as possible.

“And this is for you,” Ash says, coming up and handing Rye a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

We’re going to be trashed at this rate. Liquor is the devil.

He thanks her as they walk off, and then he returns his gaze to me as I drink my weird fruity drink with a straw. I’m trying to decide if I like it or not. I’ve never been a fan of frozen drinks. Brain freeze is a bitch.

“Well,” he prompts, leaning up on his elbows to stare intensely at me.

Crap.

I shrug as though it’s no big deal. “Haven’t had time.”

He mutters something about safety and me being an idiot. I choose to ignore him.

“I’ll have it taken to my garage. It’ll get fixed quicker there.”

I’ve heard of his garage—through the others. It’s supposed to be the place where all of the rich and famous around here go. There’s no way I can afford that if I can’t even afford the scrubby piece of shit garages.

“It’s fine. I have something lined up,” I lie, taking a bigger sip of my drink.

“You’re lying. Your whole body just stiffened. If it’s about money, don’t worry. Your insurance will cover it. I’ll make sure the deductible isn’t an issue.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I... uh...”

“You don’t have insurance?” he asks, his voice hitting an angry note.

I give him a sheepish grin while shrugging. “Liability only. It’s fine. I’m working overtime at the museum. I’ll have the money in a couple of weeks to cover it.”

Maggie has already volunteered to pay the full amount of rent on the house and utilities just so that I can get my car fixed, but I can’t let her do that. I’m still paying off some of John’s credit cards that were in my name. It’ll take a while, but eventually I’ll get it all caught up.

“And you wrecked a Porsche? That’s not very smart,” he grumbles, leaning back while taking a deep breath.

“It was a bad day. A really bad day. It was... You’re right. It was stupid. But you pushed me. Why are you parking on our side of the street? Your side has plenty of room.”

He frowns as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Kittens,” he says randomly, and I give him what has to be an unbelievably confused stare.

“Kittens?” I ask, trying to look for a code to decipher. Nothing.

“Kittens—several that are just a few months old. They’re living in the storm drain of the gutter. They climb up in your engine, and when you start your car... Well, it’s not pleasant. Animal control is behind and they haven’t come out to remove them yet. All of my neighbors are getting as far away from that damn opening as possible.”

I bite back a grin. He doesn’t want to be a kitten killer. That’s what started all this.

“Aw,” I saw teasingly, enjoying the way he narrows his eyes at me.

“I’m allergic to cats. That’s the main reason,” he lies, and I work really hard not to smile mockingly. Okay. Maybe I don’t work at all.

“Stop smiling,” he grumbles, sipping his drink again.

“For a bad boy, you’re actually a pretty big softie.”

His lips curl up in amusement as his eyebrows raise. “Bad boy? What makes you think I’m a bad boy?”

I squirm uncomfortably while absently stirring the straw in my drink.

“You have tattoos all over your upper body. Your nipple is pierced. So is your eyebrow. And you have a motorcycle.”

He lets go one of those throaty laughs that always makes me smile, and I just let the vibrations rattle through me.

“And that qualifies me for bad boy status?”

When he says it like that, it sounds pretty stupid. Instead of making myself look like a bigger idiot, I shift the subject.

“Why do you only have one nipple pierced?”

His grin slowly changes into one of more mockery. “Because I wasn’t bad enough to get the second one pierced,” he jokes, making me feel like a jackass.