Jamison
Imoved to pass Cody and headed for the checkout. I wanted to quickly shake off the exchange about my car, and in order to do that, I needed a second where I didn’t have to look him in the eye. I’d never, not once, offered to let a guy drive my Porsche. I wasn’t even sure why I was offering it to Cody. It was something about the way he treated that guy Buck’s horse earlier in the day. He showed the horse care and respect, and I was sure that he would offer that same kindness to my car. It seemed like Cody would value how I felt about the car, and for some unknown reason, I wanted to know more about him. He’d been so quiet on the drive from the arena to the liquor store, and in that stillness, I concocted this idea that we could play this game. I would give him access to my most prized possession and, in return, he would give me some details about himself. In my mind, the game was a perfect compromise. He got something and I got something.
But I guess access to a rich girl’s things didn’t read as a gift of anything much. Most people thought that my things were expendable to me because I could always get more. And sometimes that was true, but there were a few things that mattered, certain toys when I was little, certain clothes, and my car. These things were all I really had. They were the only connections to happiness I knew. I knew that was sad. But offering access to my car to someone, it was sort of akin to opening my heart. Not that I was doing that with Cody. I just thought maybe I could trust him a little.
He reached out and grabbed my arm before I could pass him. “Don’t,” he said.
“Don’t what?”
“Be upset.” His voice was calm, sweet even.
“I’m not.” I gave a fake smile.
“You are, and you have a right to be. That wasn’t a nice question I just asked you.”
I didn’t say anything, but I let the smile fall for real.
“Fuck.” He pulled me by the arm and crushed me to his chest. I could feel that beneath the fabric of his shirt, he was solid and warm. He hugged me heartily, the way a boyfriend hugs you, like a real, care-filled hug. I couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged me like that, and embarrassingly, I almost started to cry. He spoke into my hair. “For some indiscernible reason, hurting your feelings isn’t an option for me.”
I squeaked out, “Okay, fine, I forgive you.”
He laughed. Then his voice got deep and super formal when he said, “I’d like to drive your car, Jamison. I’d be honored.”
I swallowed. I didn’t know exactly what to say. I’d never met a guy like Cody Morgan. Something about him was just upstanding, not like prim or proper. He seemed wild in all the fun ways, but still good. Usually, wild and morally bankrupt went hand in hand. “I guess…”
“It’s okay if you’d rather I didn’t. I mean, I don’t even know where we're going.” He was still holding me like I belonged to him.
“I can program the GPS.”
“Does that mean you want me to drive?” I couldn’t see his smirk, but I could hear it.
“Will you drive fast?”
“Yes, and I’ll answer all your questions as long as we take one topic off the table.”
I leaned back so that I could see his eyes while he spoke because learning whatever topic was off-limits for him meant knowing something deep about him before I’d even started to dig. “What’s that?” I asked.
With a dead-serious expression, he said, “Lizard people.”
Lizard people? What the fuck?I laughed. The seriousness of his face broke and he turned, pulling me toward him so that we ended up side by side with his arm draped over my shoulders.
“I feel much better when you’re smiling,” he said.
“Me too,” I offered.
We started to move, headed toward the checkout.
Then he stopped for another second and said, “Seriously though, if you don’t mind, I’d rather we talked about me, not my family.”
“Not into being the twin brother of a famous rock star?” I asked. He shrugged, giving away next to nothing, and I realized that I was immediately asking about the thing he didn’t want to discuss. “Sorry, no family questions. Got it.”
We paid, went outside, and headed for the car. It was insanely warm, perfect conditions for my plans. Standing in front of the bumper, I pulled my keys out of my back pocket and went to hand them to him, but right before he took possession of them, I pulled them back. “Wait a minute.” I tweaked my head in curiosity. “Are your parents lizard people?”
He smiled wide, all teeth, and then he grabbed me and kissed me silly. When he let go, I had to shake my head to clear the struck dumb fog he created. Clarity regained, I realized he was backing away. In the air between us, he was jingling the keys that he duped from me. Mischief sparkled in his eyes. He was sly as a fox, this one.