Her attention whips back to me. She attempts not to smile, but when I playfully waggle my eyebrows at her and floor the gas pedal again, her laughter bursts through.
“God, what would I do without you?” she says, and my heart ceases in my chest.
“Probably be way less horny,” I tease then laugh when she punches me in the arm.
“I’m never horny for you.” Her cheeks tint red. I have to wonder if sometimes, when I’m sneaking touches, she secretly likes it.
“Whatever you have to say to get yourself through the day.” I release my foot off the brake and peel down the driveway and onto the road.
Then we fly through town with the windows rolled down and a breeze blowing in, heading for the party. We stay there for about forty-five minutes then bail because the cops show up. Ella seems mildly disappointed so I silently vow to make sure she has fun tonight. I drive toward the mountains with music playing from the car speakers. Both of us remain quiet, content.
When we reach the foothills, Ella scoots forward in her seat and spreads her arms out to the side, angling her head back and shutting her eyes. “I wish everything could stay like this forever, just you and me in this car. No parents. No big, scary world. No responsibilities.”
“Things can stay this way.” I glance back and forth between her and the road, mesmerized by the arch of her chest, her relaxed body, her parted lips. “As long as we’re together, we can always have this, no matter where we are.”
Usually, she’d agree with me but, like the last couple of weeks, she stays silent.
“Ella, are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, gripping the steering wheel. “You’ve seemed kind of—I don’t know—different lately.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything. I’d press for more, but I don’t want to sidetrack her from the few moments of freedom she has, so I bite down on my tongue and bottle up my emotions, telling myself everything will be okay.
We have a plan to stay together forever, and as long as we stick to that plan, everything will be fine.
Chapter 5
Ella
I’m having way too much fun. I’m having way too much fun, and I feel guilty. I’m having way too much fun, and I feel guilty about it because I bailed out and left my mother home unsupervised. And the air smells like it’s going to rain. It might not seem like much, but every time I have fun and it rains, disaster happens. Like in eleventh grade when I broke my arm snowboarding off the roof. I was having fun and rain was pouring down from the clouds, melting the snow into sleet, making it slippery and causing me to wipe out epically during the landing. Or like when I wrecked my dad’s car racing. Then there was the time Micha and I snuck into the local swimming pool and got caught. All rain, rain, rain.
I just hope tonight isn’t a repeat of history.
I probably wouldn’t be having that much fun, but Micha is … well, Micha. He knows how to get under my skin and work his way into my psyche. When I was about eight, I seriously thought he could read my mind. Sometimes, I still do.
When we finally pull up to The Hitch—a neglected restaurant that’s tucked away near a back road in the middle of the mountains—I know right away that the fun I was having is going to go up to a whole other level, making my guilt soar.
Because we’re racing tonight.
And racing equals adrenaline rush.
And adrenaline rush equals tons of fun in drunken Ella land.
Micha slams on the brakes as we near the other cars parked around the flat, dirt area, skidding to a stop right before we run over a crowd of people. A cloud of dust coughs up around the car as Micha shifts into park.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks as he turns the keys and silences the engine.
The hour drive up here has effectively cleared my head of the clutter usually occupying it. “Yep. Much better.”
“Good, then I’ve done my job.” He unbuckles his seatbelt then turns to get out of the car. But then he pauses and twists back to face me. “I’m really glad you came with me,” he says before he leans over the console to brush his lips across my cheek.
Sober Ella would ream his ass for the move, but drunk Ella kind of likes it. He must not realize I’m that drunk, either, because he quickly hops out of the car before I have a chance to scold him. I hurry after him, reaching for the small bottle of Vodka I stashed in the pocket of my leather jacket as we stride across the gravel and past the parked cars.
Micha eyeballs me as I throw my head back to take a swig. “Where’d you get that?”
“From my house.” I screw the cap back on.
He frowns. “How much are you planning on drinking tonight?”
I shrug, maneuvering around so I’m walking backwards in front of him. “As much as it takes to keep the fun going.” I do a funky little dance move, and he snorts a laugh.
“Fine.” He moves up beside me and drapes an arm around me, navigating me toward a gathered crowd. “But, if I win the race, I’m so joining you.”
“Then who will be DD?”
“Guess we’ll be spending the night in my car again.”
“You know what? That doesn’t bother me.”
He grins, still staring around as we approach the crowd, the headlights of running cars beaming across the darkness around us. I breathe in the comforting scent of him—cologne mixed with mint and something else that only belongs to Micha.
The rustle of voices and excitement in the air instantly pumps up my adrenaline. I must be shaking with excitement or something because Micha whispers in my ear, “Relax, baby. We’ll get to the good part soon.”
I roll my eyes yet can’t brush off the wild, uncontrollable, fluttering feeling inside my body. I try to keep the sensation contained as we near the group, but it becomes too much, and I finally give up and allow myself to get all bouncy.
Micha laughs at me as I dance to the music playing out of one of the speakers. “And there’s my feisty girl. I was worried she wasn’t going to come out tonight.”
When I let out a playful growl while nipping at him, he chokes on a laugh, nearly buckling over.
“Okay, hand over the bottle,” he says, sticking out his hand, still chuckling.
I jut out my lip. “How come?”
“Because you just tried to bite me.”
“So? I heard you like to get bit.”
He skids to a halt in the dirt. “Where did you hear that from?”