Right Kind of Wrong(99)
“But that’s my ride!” I yell, throwing my arms up. “How am I supposed to get home?”
He starts the engine and flicks the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “You should’ve thought of all that before you stopped making payments.” Then he pulls out of the gas station with sweet Monique as his captive and I watch the last piece of my other life slowly disappear.
Motherfu—
“Sir?”
I spin around to see a scrawny gas attendant wiping his hands on a rag.
“What,” I snap, frustrated at everything that’s gone wrong in my existence.
“You gotta pay for that,” he says.
I make a face. “For what?”
He nods at the pump. “For the gas.”
“The ga—” I see the gas nozzle dangling from where poor Monique was ripped away and I want to scream. “Oh, come on, man! My car was basically just hijacked! I wasn’t paying attention to how much gas I was using.”
He shrugs. “Don’t matter. Gas is gas. That’ll be eighty-seven dollars.”
“Eighty-se—” I clench my jaw. “I don’t have eighty-seven dollars.”
He scratches the back of his head. “Well I can’t let you leave until you pay.”
I scrub a hand down my face, trying to contain the many curse words that want to vault from my mouth. With a very calm and controlled voice I say, “Then do you have a manager I can speak to about settling this issue?”
He tips his head toward the small gas station store. “My sister.”
Through the store’s front window, I see a young woman with curly red hair at the register and a smile stretches across my face.
“Perfect,” I say.
As I head for the entrance, a few drops of rain fall to the ground, plopping on the dirty concrete by my shoes. I look up at the dark clouds, fat with the oncoming storm and frown. I really don’t want to walk home in the rain.
A string of gaudy bells slaps against the station door and chimes as I enter the store, and the sister looks up from a crossword puzzle. Her name tag reads WENDY. I file that information away.
Roving her eyes over me, her face immediately softens. “Why, hello there,” she says in a voice I know is lower than her natural one. “Can I help you?”
I give her my very best helpless-boy grin and sigh dramatically. “I certainly hope so, Wendy.”
Her eyes brighten at the sound of her name on my lips. Girls love it when you say their name. They melt over it. It’s like a secret password that instantly grants you their trust.
She leans forward with a smitten grin and I know I’ve already charmed my way out of an eighty-seven-dollar gas bill. And maybe even found a ride home.
“Me too,” she says eagerly.
I smile.
Sometimes it pays to be me.
Also by Chelsea Fine
Best Kind of Broken
Perfect Kind of Trouble
PRAISE FOR CHELSEA FINE’S BEST KIND OF BROKEN
“By turns humorous and heartbreaking, Best Kind Of Broken has become one of my favorites!”
—CORA CARMACK, New York Times bestselling author of Losing It
“You’ll fall for Pixie and Levi, just like I did!”
—JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT (J. Lynn), #1 New York Times bestselling author of Wait For You
“Tangled with friendship, history and heartbreak—not to mention a huge dose of humor—Chelsea Fine’s New Adult novel is not to be missed! Beyond an incredibly HOT read, Pixie and Levi’s longing for each other will have you rooting for them till the very end.”
—JAY CROWNOVER, New York Times bestselling author of Rule
“This book destroyed me. Tore me into little tiny pieces. But somehow with lots of laughs and some very steamy times, Chelsea put me back together again! Chelsea Fine’s style is witty, visceral and fresh. All I wanted to do was crawl inside this book and live with the characters. And now all I want is MORE.”
—CHELSEA M. CAMERON, New York Times bestselling author of My Favorite Mistake
“Sandwiched between laugh out loud moments and some serious heat, Best Kind of Broken is an unforgettable story of loss and forgiveness that will leave your heart aching.”
—LISA DESROCHERS, USA Today bestselling author of A Little Too Far
You Might Also Like…