“Beth,” I warn, “It’s just one date. Don’t get all excited.”
“He’s a racer. You know that, right?”
“Yeah...”
“But you don’t date racers.”
“I know, Beth, but it’s just one date. It’s not like I’m going to marry the guy.”
“So, why did you turn down Max? It would have just been one date, right?” She arches her eyebrow, not about to let me off the hook.
“Grr…” Why does she do this to me? The chemistry—that I would be blind not to notice—aside, it wouldn’t just be a date with Max. Nothing is just anything with Max. One date wouldn’t be enough, and I am not getting sucked in. It’s too dangerous, and I’ll wind up getting hurt. Max ‘manwhore’ Morgan does not do commitment or any of that shit, so I am not even tempting myself.
Beth knows she’s pushed me as far as she can, She backs off, holding her hands up in defense.
“Just saying, that’s all. Let me know how it goes. I’m babysitting for Sugar tonight.”
“Sugar has kids?” I asked shocked.
“Yeah, two girls and they’re cute as can be. Sugar and Causey are great.”
“They’re still together?” Because I always thought her and Causey were wild, I certainly never pictured them settling down and having a family. That kind of set-up seems too mundane for them.
“Of course, why wouldn’t they be?”
I shrug because I don’t have any good reason why they wouldn’t be. I just always thought because they were so young when they met that it wouldn’t go the distance. But then look at Beth and Aaron. They are solid.
“Just because he was a racer and they were young doesn’t mean that what they have isn’t as strong as say… Aaron’s parents. Not all racers are bad. Your dad was a racer and look how well you turned out.”
I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not getting into this argument with her. She knows my views.
“Enjoy tonight. I’ll call you in the morning.” She wraps her arms around me and gives me a big hug. Laughing, I shoo her out the garage and grab my jacket and keys. It’s time to visit my dad before I need to get ready for this date. God knows where Aaron is, but Max is bent over the engine of the Chevelle. I get distracted by the sight of his tight, denim-clad ass and the way his t-shirt rides up as he stretches, exposing his tanned lower back. My fingers twitch at my side as I imagine running my fingernails over his skin.
Forcing my thoughts out of the gutter and back to the present, I clear my throat.
“I’m going to head to the hospital and see my dad. You guys okay here?”
Max straightens and turns, resting that gorgeous ass of his on the edge of the Chevelle, adopting his usual stance and crossing his arms over his chest, t-shirt pulled taut over the obvious muscle underneath. Distracting as hell is what it is.
“Sure, you go, we’ve got it covered.” He nods and then his mouth curves up the longer he watches me. “Enjoy your date.” He winks and turns, bending over the car and resuming his work.
I stand for a second longer, wondering what the fuck he is playing at before I slowly walk out of the garage and climb on my bike.
Chapter Twelve
The visit at the hospital takes longer than I had planned for. My dad is in a foul mood and even Nurse McCartney is pissy with me. All he did was complain—about the food, about the TV stations, and about the pain. When I finally snapped that it was his own damn fault, he was even more pissed, ranting about my sucky bedside manner, and then went in a huff like a small child.
In the end, I’d had enough. After a kiss on the forehead I told him I’d see him tomorrow. He didn’t even look my way, and I gave up and left. Now I’m rushing around at the last minute trying to get ready for this date and beginning to wonder why I agreed to it. Kyle seems like a nice enough guy, but I don’t date. Why did I not ask Beth what she thought I should wear? Growing up with my dad and his non-existent fashion sense means that I am clueless when it comes to clothes and shopping. Jeans and a t-shirt are about my limit. I don’t own a dress and the only shoes I have are sneakers or boots. It suits me to ride a bike because that way I have an excuse to wear jeans all the time.
At last, I am dressed in black skinny jeans, which are a staple item in my wardrobe, and a burnt orange strappy top. I’m finally slipping on my leather jacket just as the doorbell rings. I don’t question how he knows where I live when I didn’t give him my address. It’s a small town; he’ll have found it out easily enough.
With a bright, hopefully enthusiastic smile in place, I open the door. Kyle jumps slightly and his eyes skim down the length of my body before he meets my eyes and smiles widely.