“Didn’t think you would.”
The wind cuts across my knees as he speeds up. I don’t feel safe, but I’m not closing the door. The three double vodkas have quadrupled my stubbornness.
“Keep your arms inside,” Chris says.
“What? Why?”
“Just trust me…” he states.
Swerving to the right, Chris mounts the curb two seconds before my door smashes into the steel streetlamp. The dented door slams shut, and I glare at him as he calmly fiddles with the stereo. He chooses a station playing a Fire Life song, and I’m convinced the universe is having fun at my expense.
“How’s Billy McVane doing?” he asks.
“You just drove your brand-new Aston Martin into a streetlamp,” I mumble.
He taps at the wheel like we’re on a pleasant afternoon drive. “Partly correct. The full truth is that I drove mydoor into a streetlamp. Because my irritating, wasted passenger wouldn’t close her door.”
“You’re a lunatic,” I tell him. “You’re anactual lunatic.”
He winks at me. “Been called worse.”
“First you stalk me. Then you show up and humiliate me in front of my friends?”
“Friend,” he says. “Singular. Maria was your only friend back there. That Aaron guy was just taking advantage.”
“You assaulted my classmate and ruined his art project.”
Chris pulls the car to a stop. “Call him.”
“What?”
“Aaron,” he says. “Call him.”
“Why?”
Chris sighs and turns to me. “For once in your life, just do as I ask without all the drama.”
“Fine,” I huff, pulling out my phone. “Okay. It’s ringing. Now what?”
“Put him on loudspeaker.”
“Why? So you can threaten him again?” I’m intrigued by the look in his dark eyes, so I do it. “Hey, Aaron.”
“Who’s this?” he asks.
I frown. “Harper. We just did the photo shoot thing. Then the psycho lunatic ruined everything.”
Aaron groans. “That old guy is insane.”
“Hey, Aaron!” Chris shouts. “This is the insane old guy lunatic who just ruined everything.”
I don’t know why I’m smiling. Must be the alcohol.
“Listen, let’s make this short and sweet,” Chris says. “Tell Harper the truth about your little art project. And if you don’t, I’ll turn this car around and we can chat about it in person.”
The line falls quiet.
“Don’t be scared of him, Aaron! You did nothing wrong, and I won’t let him hurt you.”
Chris chuckles. “Going to let a girl fight your battles? It’s fine. If you can’t be a man and tell the truth, I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
“There was no art project,” Aaron mumbles.
My heart races. “W-what? You don’t have to say this.”
“There was no art project,” Aaron repeats. “Sorry I lied to you, Harper.”
Wow. This tops the worst house party in history. The embarrassment and shame I feel right now are off the scale. I’m expecting Chris to be grinning, but he’s not smiling when I look up at him.
“So, what did you want the photos for?” I ask.
“Just…umm, you know. For myself.”
“Eww!” I groan. “That’s so sick and twisted, Aaron.” I attempt to end the call, but Chris snatches the phone from my hand. “What are y?-“
He presses a soft finger to my lips and raises his voice. “You could have chosen any girl in the school to do this with.”
Ouch. Way to make me feel even worse about myself.
“All those hot, popular girls on campus.” Please stop doing this to me. “So, tell Harper why you wanted photographs of her specifically. And save the gory details. She doesn’t need to hearabout what you planned to do with them. Just why you chose her.”
Chris lifts his finger from my lips and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“Listen,” he mimes at me.
“Because she’s hot,” Aaron says, and a wave of heat rushes to my cheeks. “Like, really hot. That’s why. Oww!” Aaron squeals. “Get off me! I swear I wasn’t?-“
Chris ends the call and rests the phone on my bare thigh, fixing his big brown eyes on mine.
“Lock that into your stubborn head, Harper.” His jaw twitches as he leans back in his seat. “You need me around to keep you safe, because clearly you can’t do it yourself. You should have seen how that guy was staring at you. Like a piece of meat.”
“Sounds like you’re jealous,” I say, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
“You’re cute, Harper, I’ll give you that. And all these things you’re doing are cute too. You know what’s not cute?” He turns and glares at me with fire in his eyes. “Calling me jealous. Chris Collins doesn’tdo jealousy.”
“Oh yeah?” The alcohol is taking over and I smirk. “So whatdoes he do?”
He grabs and squeezes the gear stick. “Things you couldn’t handle.”
A fiery blue spark zaps my palm when I cover his hand with mine.
“You just called me ‘Harper’ instead of ‘kiddo,’” I say.
He stares down at my fingers. Every muscle in his body looks coiled and set to explode.
“You know what you are, Chris Collins?” I ask. “Electricity. That’s what you are. No one knows how it works. No one even sees it. But it controls everything.”
He lifts his head, those penetrating eyes boring into me. “Electricity can cook your dinner…but it can also cookyou.”
“And what if I want to be cooked?” I say, a subtle tremor rippling through his hand as I lean closer to his face. “What if I’m bored with playing it safe? What if I want to go ahead and stick the knife in the toaster?”
“Stop,” he mimes.
He doesn’t move away as I edge closer to his lips. I’ve kissed guys before, but it’s never felt likethis. My world is spinning. My heart is thumping in my ears. A warmth rushes up my throat and…
“Urrrghhh,” I gag as a jet of vodka and undigested pizza explodes through my lips. A wide-eyed Chris glances down at his shirt, and I throw a hand to my mouth. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head and turns back to the wheel. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine!” I shout. “I just threw up all over you! Right when we were about to…”
“Nothing,” he finishes. “Right when we were about to do nothing.”
Ouch.
“Whatever,” I mumble, sitting back in my seat. “Don’t feel bad about hurling all over you now.”
He hits the gas and we drive home in silence. Chris is still in his car while I struggle to slide my key into the lock, and I run to my room and flop down to the bed.
Did I really just try to kiss my dad’s best friend? I’m never drinking again.
Ten minutes later, a gentle knock taps against my door.
“Meeeeeh!” I babble, too scared to move.
Chris snickers as he enters.
“I made you some toast, lightweight.” He lowers the plate to my bedside table, and then I feel him tugging at my heels. “Wriggle your toes a bit.”
“Beeehhh,” I groan.
A rush of air hits the soles of my feet and I sigh with relief. Chris grabs under my armpits and slides me up the bed. He then covers me with a blanket.
“There’s a bucket there. In case you have any more…accidents.”
“Bodyguard!” I say, flinging my arm out. “You can be my bodyguard. But I’m going to make you crazy for me.” I try to seductively slap my ass, but I don’t know where it is. “You won’t stand a chance.”
Chris switches off the light. “Goodnight, Harper.”
I hear the door shut and peel open one eye, squinting at the blank space on my wall where my painting used to hang.
This is why I don’t drink very often. Because right now my logical mind is wasted, and the only thing I want in this world is a hug from my mother. But the inescapable pain comes from knowing it’s the one thing I can never have.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.