“Maybe you should let her do what she wants.” Their motives, no matter how well-intentioned, seem selfish. But I’m not much better. I don’t want her to go either. I am barely able to keep a lid on the feeling of frustration, which has been mounting since he told me.
“Fuck that,” Aaron bursts out. “You need to speak with her.”
“Still don’t see what good it will do.”
“Just try,” Aaron pleads, glancing outside again and the thought of her leaving tugs deep inside me.
“Okay but I’m not promising anything. I’ll probably send her running away faster.”
Aaron claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, Max.” He turns to leave but stops. “I’m having a party a week from Saturday. It’s my birthday. You should come alone.” He gives me a pointed look, and I catch his meaning right away.
“Sure, thanks.” I nod, and he makes his way out the diner, collecting his order as he leaves. When I look out the window, Leigh is standing on the sidewalk, hands jammed into her jeans pockets, staring at me with a quizzical look on her face. Aaron shouts at her, and she throws one last look in my direction before she turns to him and starts what I guess is to interrogate him by the way he rolls his eyes. No doubt about why he was talking to me.
My bad mood doesn’t improve over the course of the day. No, make that the rest of the week. Aaron’s little talk has set me on edge. I don’t want her to go. But what can I do? She isn’t willing to take a chance on me. Maybe it’s time to up my game, one last push. Although I’ve said that before.
Chapter Eighteen
Ever since Aaron spoke to me last week in the diner, I’ve been restless. I know I need to do something, but I’m not sure what. Having to witness Causey and Meghan making out on the sofa has done nothing to improve my mood so I left. Seriously, do they have to do it all the time? And in front of me? Ryder is working on something top secret in his garage, so I decide to steer clear. Fuck knows what he does in there. It’s mid-week, and there are no races. So I just drive. Before I realize where I am, my car is climbing the road that takes me above the quarry. Up here, I’ll get space to think and digest what Aaron has asked me. Peace and quiet to wrap my head around the fact that Leigh is planning to leave. Can I honestly ask her to stay? Do I have the right? There is no way in hell I’ll manage to convince her to stay. I can’t even convince her to go out with me.
Any hopes of finding peace and quiet up here are quickly dashed when I round the last corner and see a car already parked. But it’s not any car. The black ’69 Charger can only belong to one person.
Leigh Storm.
Pulling up beside the Charger, I kill my engine and listen. It is warm out and all her windows are down. Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days” is playing on the stereo and bare feet hang out the window. I lean forward in my seat and smile at her, lifting my hand in a small wave. It is almost humorous, the way she rolls her eyes and her head falls back against the headrest when she sees it’s me.
Not put off by her less than enthusiastic greeting or the fact we’ve not really spoken to each other in over a year unless you count our faceoff at the quarter mile, I get out of my car and walk around to her passenger side.
Surprise registers on her face and her lips part when I pull open the door and climb into the passenger seat. To accommodate my long legs, I reach down and find the lever to push the seat farther back. When I straighten, she is staring at me, mouth open in silent protest. She may be trying to give the impression that my presence annoys her, but her eyes tell a different story. They sparkle with excitement, and I fantasize that secretly she’s missed me too.
But then she finds her voice. “What the fuck?” Turning to the side, I see a tub of ice cream in her hand with a plastic spoon poking out.
Letting loose a low, rumbling chuckle, I smile at her. “Whatcha doin’?”
“I was enjoying being the only person up here.” She holds up the tub and tries to pretend I annoy the hell out of her when we both know she wants me. Or at least, that’s what I wish.
It’s the way we are with each other. I annoy her in the hope of getting a rise out of her, and it works every time. I love seeing that flash of anger stain her cheeks. It makes me wonder what else brings color to her cheeks like that. It’s been like this ever since that first night I kissed her. Would it have made a difference if I had taken her that night? But I can’t go there because it will just torture me. As much as she pretends to hate me, I don’t think she does. I have never hidden the fact that I want her.