“You flirted with her, though,” I point out, though it’s a moot point. Flirting doesn’t matter to Micha. He flirts with everyone, even the sixty-year-old check out lady at the grocery store who smells like cat food.
“So what?” He crooks an eyebrow at me. “I’ve already told you time and time again that I’m just passing time until you finally come around. Sometimes, I get bored and need to flirt.”
I fight back a smile. I shouldn’t be glad about this.
Stop it. STOP.
My smile’s breaking through.
“Don’t smile, pretty girl,” he teases as we reach the front of the crowd. “It’ll ruin your I don’t give a shit facade.”
“Hey, you promised not to call me that tonight,” I remind him in a lame attempt to sidetrack the conversation.
“I’m not forgetting your jealousy that easy,” he retorts, his lips tugging into a sexy half-grin.
I chew on my thumbnail as I take in the cars parked around us, refusing to focus on him. There’s Danny’s 1971 Dodge Challenger, Mikey’s 1968 Camaro, and Benny’s 1970 GTO, which I’m secretly in love with, though I’ll never admit it to Micha, because it’ll hurt his feelings.
“So, tell me this.” Micha steps up beside me and sketches circles on my upper arm as he stares at the line of cars across from us. “Why does the idea of me sleeping with her bother you so much?”
“Because she’s not good enough for you,” I say truthfully with a shrug. Then I casually reach over and steal the bottle of vodka from his pocket.
He gives me a suspicious sidelong glance. “Who is good enough for me? You?” He’s joking, but it triggers a hidden nerve. I think about how I’m about to bail on him and our plans in a month, just leave him in this dump of a town.
It feels like invisible fingers have wrapped around my throat. “No, Micha, not me.” I slip out from under his arm. “I’m in no way good enough for you.” I back through the crowd, my heart throbbing in my chest. “I’ll be right back.” I reel around and run back to the car.
After I hop into the backseat, I unscrew the cap from the bottle and take a few sips before resting back. One day, and hopefully soon, Micha is going to realize just how amazing he is and start looking for girls who have substance instead of girls like Ditzy. Then these little moments in this town—with me and everyone else—will just be moments that he’ll eventually forget about.
I’ll become a fading memory along with everything I did. Even when I break my promise to him.
Chapter 6
Micha
I said the wrong damn thing. I knew I did as soon as I said it, but I get so sick of her thinking that I’m still sleeping around with everyone, because I’m not. I can’t anymore, not when I feel the way I do about her.
I can’t think of a way to recover from my mess up, and she ends up running off somewhere. I don’t chase her down since she’ll keep running from me if I do. If I give her a few minutes to clear her head, she’ll more than likely come back and pretend nothing happened.
I remain focused on the race, feeling a little better when I get challenged by Stanford and his Mustang because it’s gotta fucking weak sauce engine.
I’m about to go back to my car, ready to roll, but Ella still hasn’t come back to me. My head is a little foggy as I scan the crowd for her and then by the rundown restaurant where a few people are getting high. Ella’s not usually into that, but she can also get really random and end up doing a lot of stupid shit sometimes. Still, she’s not back there. And, as I’m heading back to the crowd, Ethan finds me.
“Just get in the damn car,” he says, giving me a shove in the back. He doesn’t race, but he’s obsessed with me winning. He puts a lot of work into my car and engine; therefore, ‘we share the win.’ “I’ll drive with you if you can’t find her.”
Frowning, I hike across the dirt toward my car, swinging the keys around my finger. “Just look for her, okay? And don’t say anything stupid when you find her and piss her off.”
“You know that’s not possible.” He backs toward the lineup area where two cars are parked side by side. “If I say anything to her, she’s going to get pissed at me. The only person she never does that with is you.”
He’s right. The two of them clash more than my parents did before my dad bailed.
Running out of time, I spin on my heels and jog back to my car, trying to tell myself that it’ll be okay.
I can race without her in the car. I don’t have to worry about her.
When I reach my car, though, I suddenly feel better.
Ella’s lying on the backseat, staring up at the stars through the rolled down window with the bottle of Vodka in her hand.
I rest my arms on windowsill. “Did you finish the bottle off?”
She shakes her head without looking at me. “No.” She raises the bottle so I can see the liquid splashing inside it. “I took a few shots, though.”
A breath eases from my lips as I open the door. “Do you want me to take you home so we can talk?”
Her eyes cut in my direction. “What? No. Why?”
My shoulders unravel as I hop into the seat and shut the door. “You just seem upset, and I have a feeling I might be making the night worse.”
She eyes me for an eternity then finally sits up, screws the lid back on the bottle, and drops it onto the floor. She scoots forward in the seat and rests her elbows on the console. “I’m fine.” She tugs the elastic out of her hair and shakes it out. “Sorry for flipping out. I’m going to be chill for the rest of the night. I swear. And I totally get if you don’t want me to ride with you now. I’m being distracting.”
“You’re perfectly fine …” I bite on my bottom lip as I watch her comb her fingers through her hair. My hands start to ache when she angles her head back, her chest arching forward as her eyelids slip shut. I could write a thousand songs just about the way she looks right now, and a thousand more about the way she makes me feel.
When she lifts her head up again, her eyes open, and she encounters my hungry gaze.
I quickly clear my throat and look away before I end up doing something stupid. “You know I always want you to ride with me, even when you’re upset. And when you’re being distracting.”