I cleared my throat.
It was my body.
Nothing else was engaged.
Not possible.
I took a left at the stop sign. Ready to bring up any subject in order to kill the tense silence, I opened my mouth as her phone went off.
She answered it on the first ring.
“Uh huh… No, no, I got a ride.” Silence. “Oh, that’s sweet.” She sighed.
Are you freaking kidding me? She sighed? It wasn’t a normal sigh either. It was a girl sigh, the type girls get when they tilt their heads to the side and give you screw-me eyes.
She giggled.
I was going to rain a shit-storm on whoever was on the other end of that line.
“Thanks. That’s nice of you. Yeah, we’ll be there in a few minutes. Aw, you didn’t have to do that.”
Murder. I was going to murder him, slowly, painfully, with my hands around his neck and I’d smile. Yup, I’d smile, and I’d go to prison still smiling as he kept his grimy hands off of what was mine.
Mine?
I slammed on the brakes.
“Holy crap!” Pris screamed. “No, no, sorry… Yeah, I’m okay. My driver must have gone temporarily blind.”
So now I was the driver.
I’d been demoted from breakfast maker to driver.
Might as well put a stamp across my forehead that said bitch.
“Yup, we’re pulling up now.”
She hung up the phone as I turned into her driveway. The only reason I knew where she lived was because I’d gone to her house the day I left for LA to apologize, only to find out that she wasn’t home.
In all her excitement to see whomever the hell she’d been talking to, she hadn’t even given me directions. How’s that for being stalkerish?
“Who was that?” I asked when she pressed end, still smiling.
“Oh.” She looked at me and blushed. I almost kissed her then. I almost reached across the seat, jerked her head toward mine and burned the memory of my lips onto hers. But a knock came at the window.
A tall, muscular guy stood on the outside, opening her car door like he was freaking Prince Charming. “Pris, did things work out last night?”
I got out of the car and glared. I didn’t care if the guy was the next pope or Mother Theresa’s long lost cousin. He was on my shit list. Because he’d made Pris smile. And I’d done nothing but irritate her all morning. Oh yeah, and hit on her. Wow, negative points for Jaymeson. Nice.
“Hey.” The jackass held out his hand. “I’m Smith.”
“Jaymeson,” I said tightly, my eyes narrowing as he squeezed my hand a little harder than necessary. I wasn’t ever the type of guy to be violent, but I swear to all that is holy if I’d had a gun, I would have pulled it, no hesitation. The guy just screamed player.
Players knew players. I could spot them a mile away; it was like looking in a mirror that didn’t have the same reflection, just the same mannerisms. And this guy? Yeah, a million bucks said he wanted a quick screw and nothing more.
“How’s the house?” Priscilla asked, clearing her throat.
“Pretty bad.” The Smith guy winced. “We’re lucky the neighbors called when they did. They saw smoke coming out of the basement windows and got worried when the smoke alarms didn’t go off.”
Priscilla’s face went white as a ghost.
I reached out to her but was intercepted by a cold shoulder from Smith as he gripped her hand and squeezed. “Hey, it’s okay, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve already gone through the house and grabbed your purse and keys. You should probably call your parents so they can get hold of the insurance company.”
Priscilla nodded, but I could tell something was off. Her eyes pooled with tears. “Um, how much damage do you think it did? Money-wise?”
Smith whistled. “If I was ballparking it? I don’t know, sweetheart.”
I clenched my fists.
“The electrical needs to be totally redone, the basement has gone to hell, and everything needs to be cleaned from smoke damage. I’d say at least ten grand, and that’s low-balling it.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Okay.”
I watched the exchange with interest, my eyes scanning Priscilla’s face for more clues into why she was freaking out. It had to be the money. My guess? They didn’t have insurance.
“No worries!” Smith smiled. “Insurance will take care of everything.”
“You’re right.” Her smile was forced. “I’ll try not to worry.”
“Great.” He licked his lips and looked between me and Pris. “So can I give you a ride or—”
“I’ve got it,” I interrupted, stepping up to her side. “I’m renting the place right next door to where she’s staying. Plus, I’m kind of responsible for her.”
I felt a sharp elbow to the stomach as Priscilla laughed awkwardly. “Uh-huh, like a big brother. Right, Jaymeson?”
Oh look, my balls, they’re flying away.
“Right.” My nostrils flared so big with irritation that I actually saw them flare, in front of my face.
“That’s so cute.” Smith crossed his arms. Really, dude? Trying to show off the muscles? Too obvious.
“That’s me,” I said crisply. “Cute.”
Smith nodded then looked behind me. “Nice ride. Your dad buy that for you?”
“Thanks,” I said in an even voice. “And no, I work for a living. The last thing he bought me was a toy truck when I was three.”
Wow way’ta make it more awkward.
“So…” Priscilla clapped her hands. “My purse? Keys?”
Smith nodded, not breaking eye contact with me. “In my truck. I just assumed you’d be too shaken up to drive around today so I was going to offer my services, but since you already have a ride—”
“I’d love a ride to the church.”
I opened my mouth to argue but Pris hit me across the chest. “I’d have Jaymeson take me, but I don’t want him getting struck by lightning his first day in Seaside.”
They both laughed.
I, however, invented new curse words while Smith wrapped his arm around something that wasn’t his, and led her toward his truck.
“Thanks, Jaymeson,” Pris called behind her. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yup,” I yelled back. “You sure will.”
I didn’t miss the shit-eating grin plastered across Smith’s ugly face as he opened her door and gave me a small wave.