‘You had your chance,’ she said with a smugness that suggested she could read his mind.
‘You’d go off with just anyone?’ he asked snarkily.
‘Not just anyone. I’m sizing them up. You know them well, got any recommendations for me?’
‘Not funny.’
It really wasn’t. But she chuckled anyway.
‘Not one of those guys would be any good,’ he said firmly. Would it be bad if he told her they all had STDs? Yeah, defamatory and enough to cost him his job.
‘None as good as you, right?’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘Oh, Gabe, ever heard of the dog in the manger?’
‘I just think you’re making a mistake.’ Massive mistake. And the idea of it was killing him.
‘No, I’m getting on with my life. There are lots of things I want to do. This is just one of them.’
‘Well, do some other things first.’ He thought half desperately. ‘Go swim with dolphins or something—wouldn’t that be good?’
She put on a thoughtful pose and her eyes went bluer than that fantasy ocean he wanted her to dive into—alone. ‘I guess that would be good. I’ll add it to my list. But right now I’m enjoying flirting.’
He put his hand on her arm to stop her, couldn’t resist that smallest touch. ‘Some of these boys don’t know how to do slow,’ he warned.
She turned back to face him, her smile slaying all his good intentions. ‘Who said anything about slow?’
She pulled her arm free and sauntered back to the group of girls and their hangers on, and Gabe was left with his jaw hanging mid-air. Yeah, he couldn’t leave. Just stood, ostensibly laughing at some of the jokes with the guys, but, really, watching her like a damn hawk and mad with himself for obsessing. It was only because he’d put her out of bounds that he wanted her so much, right?
The boys started to go, keen to get an early night. But those two talking to her were still here. Then she moved. So, naturally, Gabe did too.
‘You’re leaving?’ He caught up to her as she headed towards the corridor.
‘Yes, I’m leaving,’ she confirmed sarcastically.
‘Alone?’ Oh, he was so enthralled he had to ask more to be sure. It was pathetic.
‘Gabe, it’s the night before the first big game of the season. You really think any of those boys are going to go for an up-all-nighter with me now?’
Actually he wouldn’t blame any of those boys for picking pleasure with her over being sensible the night before the season starter. But it seemed they were more professional than he was. Had more self-control. He glanced back at the group of them and saw several watching her. Yeah, she was the new crush. He walked out with her, happy to let them see it. If they thought he had a claim, that was fine by him. He didn’t give a damn about maintaining his no-dating-in-the-stadium distance this second.
He walked with her to the car park, watched when she stopped and pulled a key from her pocket. ‘This is your car?’
Roxie paused—he was all wide-eyed and animated as he took in the gleaming metal—and she couldn’t hold back her smile any more. ‘Sure is.’
He blinked a couple of times before running a hand over the bonnet. ‘Wouldn’t have expected that.’ Only then he frowned. ‘But doesn’t one of your Bolly bottles have D on it? For driver’s …’ His gaze narrowed and he whirled towards her. ‘Show me your licence.’
‘Only when you show me your badge, officer,’ she drawled, finding such pleasure in mocking him. She was in way too good a mood because he hadn’t wanted her to flirt with those others. That in fact he’d followed her out and hadn’t seemed to care that everyone had watched him do it.
‘You’re driving illegally.’ He looked amazed and suddenly laughed. ‘I can’t believe that Miss Goody Two-Shoes is driving illegally.’
She steeled herself to resist her melt reaction to his laughter. ‘Why do you think I’m Miss Goody Two-Shoes?’
‘Oh, come on.’ He met her gaze with that warm humour glinting in his own. ‘You’re totally good. You told me how good.’
She sighed and exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. ‘I really don’t think virginity ought to have anything to do with whether a girl is “good” or not. You need to get over your outdated stereotypes of women.’
His grin went totally wicked. ‘You’re right. But you dare take me to task about stereotypes? What about your new hairdo, your fake breasts, your sudden decision to shimmy and shake it all in public? Truth is you live in a hideout and garden instead of partying. You’re Roxanna not Foxy Roxie, you’re playing at being a sophisticated vamp go-go dancer. Question is why?’
Foxy Roxie? Oh, she wished. ‘I’m not playing at anything. What do you think I am, some toddler who’s got into her mother’s make-up drawer? So you saw me before I had my hair done, so what? I’m capable of more bad than you can ever imagine.’ And she was thinking such bad thoughts this second. And just because she’d never acted on them much in the past, didn’t mean she wouldn’t in the future—or now.
The glint of humour got lost in the brilliant blackness of his eyes. ‘Actually I can imagine.’ His voice dropped. ‘Believe me, I can.’
She turned her back on him and his damn flip-flop, flirt-or-not attitude. Just to breathe for a second. But he took the step right up to her car, right beside her, so close she couldn’t actually open the door.
‘So if you’re capable of all that bad,’ he muttered low in her ear, ‘why didn’t you have sex with your boyfriend in the back seat of this baby?’
Burning from the inside out, she gave his shoulder a shove—but he didn’t move. ‘Because it would have been disrespectful,’ she answered honestly—and breathlessly.
He spun, leaning back on the door, and getting his face right in hers. ‘No more disrespectful than driving round without a licence. How come the cops have never pulled you over?’
She shrugged, battling the urge to lean in the inch that would bring her mouth into contact with his. ‘It’s a vintage car in mint condition. I think they assume that the dame behind the wheel cares for the car way too much to be doing anything illegal. I always drive carefully.’
‘It must be heavy to steer,’ he said almost absently, his gaze not releasing hers. ‘Who taught you to drive?’
‘My grandfather. It was his pride and joy and I respected him, so, no, I wasn’t going to get spunk stains on the leather.’ She’d never have done that to her grandparents. Especially not when her mother had disappointed them with the whole ‘baby out of wedlock and left them to hold it’ thing.
His smile deepened at her crude reference. ‘So why haven’t you got the licence?’
‘I haven’t had the opportunity.’
He looked sceptical. ‘How can you not have had the opportunity?’
‘I’ve been busy,’ she fudged. ‘Besides, L-plates would ruin the look of the car.’
She’d needed to be able to drive at any time—to get to the urgent pharmacy or wherever when her grandfather’s meds ran out. Sure, she could have done it in the last few months, but, yeah, there was that one bit of her that wanted to stick it to the authorities. The institutions that had abandoned her and her family. They’d been left alone to deal with everything. There’d been no support structures. A social-worker visit a long time ago. No follow up. Because by then she was no longer a child—she’d just turned seventeen, her grandmother had just died and left her the sole carer for her grandfather at the beginning of what ended up a long illness. The time she’d needed someone—anyone—to help, there’d been no one.
‘You have to get your licence. You can’t keep driving without it.’
Who was the Goody Two-Shoes now? Struck her that Gabe had more of a conservative element than anyone had guessed. ‘I’m working on it.’
‘Getting the celebratory Bolly isn’t exactly working on it.’ He eyeballed her and looked dead serious. ‘Give me the keys.’
She sighed dramatically, covering the hiccup in her heartbeat. ‘Who do you think you are?’
&
nbsp; Somehow he broadened his position, blocking her from the car door. ‘Give me the keys or I’ll call the cops and dob you in.’
She gasped at the unmistakable menace in his tone. ‘You wouldn’t be such a nark.’
‘Try me.’
She curled her fingers round the keys so hard they marked her skin.
He just waited, his hand outstretched. ‘Give.’
Her nostrils flared as she smacked the keys down hard on his upturned palm.